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He drools and dribbles little gobs of drips.

He sprawls out wide, not cuddled up close.

He stays thin and lean, not wide and solid.

He digs little holes to burry little treasures.

He chases squirrels and retrieves what you throw.

But in the body of a pug this is no pug,

certainly not any pug that we have known.

A tea cup mastiff he is,

a giant heart, all our own.

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