From my sketchbook.
The pug was sad. All day he had sat on his little velvet covered stool at the queen’s behest, never once averting his eyes from hers. How that little dog love his mistress, how little he knew the power he wielded in the royal court. “Well, pug”, cooed the queen, “should this man loose his head?”. Her gaze turned to the accused, “If pug nods his head,” she informed him, “you loose yours”. With that she produced a small delicacy from her purse, and moved it up and down before the pug who dutifully nodded his head. The man was dragged away to his fate, and queen rewarded the dog with the morsel and, until the next time, the little pug was happy.