Francene Biggs is a teenager.

Not really.

Actually, Francene just turned two years old.

And no one calls her “Francene.” Unless she’s in real trouble, everyone calls her “Frankie.”

And Frankie is not a person but a pug puppy. She is 14 in “dog years.” In fact, Frankie and Fiona are the two puppies that now occupy our home. The dogs belong to our son Josiah. If you have stopped by our house, you either saw or heard Frankie and Fiona. This is my first experience in being around pugs.

Our family had two Boston terriers, Annie, and later Maggie. Boston terriers are fantastic dogs. They are fiercely loyal, affectionate and protective. They only bark when they are supposed to. They don’t dig in the back yard and they hardly ever shed. They are the perfect dogs to have curl up in your lap on a cold winter night.

Annie has health issues and passed prematurely. Maggie lasted 15 years.

We went for more than a year without a dog in the house. Frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted another dog. I loved having a dog but they can get expensive and they tend to limit your mobility. For the last few years, we really couldn’t leave Maggie in a kennel if we went out of town. And it was quite an imposition to have a friend or family member care for an aging canine.

And, if another dog lasted as long as Maggie, I would be in my 80s before she passed. (She might outlast me). Even with those considerations, we might someday get another dog.

In the meantime, we have Frankie and Fiona.

They are the best watchdogs on the planet. They bark at any sign of danger. If a twig snaps in the front yard, they run to the door and bark. If a neighbor walks by walking their dog, they bark. If my neighbor Fred takes his trashcan out to the curb, they bark. They dearly love to bark at squirrels in our back yard. On Sundays, they bark at the parishioners in the church by our back yard.

Sometimes I think they bark at the rotation of the Earth.

Sometimes, the barking gets a little annoying. That’s especially true when they bark at nothing while we are watching TV.

The funny thing is, they love people. Once a visitor is seen as a friend, Frankie and Fiona can’t wait to lick their hand or face. They get truly excited when company comes. It takes about 10 minutes for them to settle down when friends or family comes over.

And if I leave for just about any reason, they come to the garage door and meet me like I am their best friend in the world.

When Frankie likes you, she starts wagging that tail. (That’s one drawback with a Boston terrier – they don’t have much of a tail to wag). Fiona is not much of a tail wagger, but that’s OK.

Pugs shed. A lot. We bought a Roomba to help pick up dog hair in our living room. A Roomba is one of those round robotic vacuums. It does a pretty good job on wood floors. Sometimes, we empty the Roomba and it looks like there’s enough hair to make another pug.

Here’s another thing to worry about with pugs. They really like to eat. And they can get very fat. That’s obviously not good for them.

Frankie is already a little chunky at age 2. Josiah tries to limit what they eat and he buys them very nutritious dog food.

But every time I enter the kitchen, Frankie runs to meet me. She is hoping I will give her part of what I am about to eat or at least that I would be clumsy enough to drop something on the floor for her. When you prepare food, Frankie has this persistent habit of placing herself between your legs and the kitchen cabinets.

And trust me – when she looks up at you with those big eyes, it’s like she’s saying, “Please, please, please. I haven’t had a bite all day.”

I am not used to having two dogs around. Here’s the problem. Fiona, who is Frankie’s half-sister (they had the same father), is extremely jealous. If Fiona walks into the living and sees Frankie sitting in someone’s lap, Fiona will jump into that lap force Frankie to exit. And if Frankie refuses to budge, sometimes a fight breaks out. The fights are intense but they never seem to hurt each other and they don’t hurt people. We have learned the warning signs, so we separate them is a fight seems to be brewing.

My 20-month-old granddaughter loves these dogs. When she visits, the first words out of her mouth are “dogos!” I think my 4-month-old grandson likes the dogs, too, although I am sure his appreciation will grow once he gets older.

We raised three teenagers. Now, we are helping raise two “gran-dogos.”