That'll do, pug

Game and gutsy, you dismiss the jovial little pug as a lapdog at your peril, finds Flora Watkins, although do beware the snoring

- Flora Watkins

THEY have been court jesters to royalty from the House of Orange to the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, charming everyone from couturiers to Churchill along the way. Immortalised in Meissen porcelain and by the artists William Hogarth and Sir Joshua Reynolds, they are now the influencer’s companion of choice. Those comical, Instagram-friendly faces are capable of breaking the internet—Doug the Pug, based in the US, has some 13 million followers on social media.

Pugs are one of the oldest dog breeds, favoured by Chinese emperors since the Shangdynasty of about 400BC. Following their flat-faced cousin the French bulldog (‘Vive le bulldog français!’, March 22, 2017), pugs’ endearing features and affectionate natures have seen their popularity soar in recent years.

‘It’s the amusement factor,’ thinks author Raffaella Barker, whose pug, Flash, is the source of much hilarity. ‘Their body dysmorphia is supreme; he thinks he’s a great big, magnificent labrador or wolfhound and goes up to other dogs assuming he’s bigger than them and is really inappropriate.’

Flash, who behaves ‘like a dustbin’, steals chocolate if he can—once, notoriously, at Christmas. ‘My sister-in-law called it “trufflegate”: he got our lurcher, who’s quite picky, to get them off the table, then snuffled them himself.’ Remarkably, he suffered no ill effects. Tell-tale smears of grease on the kitchen floor in Cley, north Norfolk, betray pats of butter that have gone the same way. ‘He’s always completely unrepentant,’ discloses Miss Barker. ‘They’re very bonding for families, because everyone finds them funny.’