You know, before I adopted him, I would hear people say that Pugs were so funny to live with and you just couldn't help but laugh and laugh at their antics.
Then he came home and I discovered that part of their comedic appeal was how seriously they took life, and how utterly silly they were when they did it.
Riley would have been stone cold car chaser. We have a 6 foot wooden privacy fence, and no houses or anything behind us. The way our lot is angled, you can sort see the road as it curves around behind us. Cars driving by would kind of flicker in and out of sight through the wooden fence pickets (if that makes any sense). Oh my gosh. Riley would come charging out of the house, and "chase" the cars along the fence line. Then, after the car had rounded that curving turn and disappeared (never knowing they had been totally chased off by a big, bad dog), he would turn to face the house and kind of snort and kick his back legs out. Then he would calmly trot back into the house, his task totally accomplished. He was serious! And hilarious in his seriousness.
He never walked anywhere. The slowest he would go was a stately trot. Most often, though, he raced at top speed. Skidding on the hardwood floor as he went. He would trot past the cat a thousand times and then, for some unknown reason, that 1001th time he would decide that chasing the cat was the best idea ever.
Oh, and he WOULD.NOT.SIT.STILL.IN.THE.CAR.EVER. He would fling himself all over, including into the driver's lap. And he was a fat dog. That was like having a 30 lb. ferret dropped into your lap. He had to be crated. I could not figure out how to cure him of his inappropriate car behavior.
And he snored really bad. And had horrible, stinking gas from both ends. His farts and belches were legendary. As my husband said (more than once), there were "valid reasons why he went through so many homes". But he had a heart of gold. He lived large, but he loved large, too.