as a former owner of a Pug, that one has special appeal. Dad would smoke a pipe, late in his tobacco use years. (As did I, trying to cut down on the nicotine .) He had one pipe that he didn’t want and gave it to Chrissy. She seemed to like to just sit around and hold it in her mouth; exactly as though she was imitating him smoking his Sir Walter Raleigh.
Chilly out shoveling more snow in the early hours today.