We spotted the pugs a block and a half ahead, as we waited for the light to turn. A bag with a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a fifth of Absolut Los Angeles weighing one arm down, we jogged towards them.
About ten feet away, I stopped-- and all but whistled looking in other directions.
All three turned back to us,
"What a cute little pug! How old is he?"
"Five months. What are their names?"
"Oscar and Jelly."
"Same litter?"
"You'd think right? They have the same face. I got Jelly a year before I got Oscar."
"Pugs are better in pairs."
"Yea, Jelly was so sad. I felt bad letting her alone all day."
"I'd like to get another, but Pilgrim is quite possesive for my attention."
"Jelly wasn't cool with Oscar at first. Now they're best buds. Well sometimes they're not."
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