Today marks the two week anniversary of Belle’s arrival. It feels like she’s been with us much longer than that ’cause she fits right in. It really is like she was meant to find us.
She the cutest and sweetest little dog in the world. Now, I realize I say that a lot, but she is. She’s very smart, too. She’s got The Nose Game all figured out. Both the afternoon version (you can see Meg and C playing if you followed that link) and the before bed version where we hide little pieces of treats all over the bedroom and they hunt them down before going to bed. It’s like an Easter egg hunt every evening. Hubby gets the credit for inventing the doggy games by the way.
Belle’s not only adorable, she’s got spirit, too. She keeps Meg on her toes. Meg is so much happier having a doggie girlfriend around. Even if Belle does run circles around her. That frustrates Meg, and tires her out, but I can tell she’s glad to have a doggie companion.
They still are working on the top dog thing. It’s a complex hierarchical thing. Cesar Milan always refers to it as being the pack leader. It’s little stuff like who goes through doors first, who eats first, who gets pick of what toys, etc. It’s also referred to as dominance. The leader is sometimes called the alpha dog. Some overly dominant alpha dogs will kill to protect their position. Not Meg. She’s just stubbornly dominant. She won’t kill, but she isn’t giving up quietly (Meg’s always been a growler).
It’s fun to see them playing/wrestling. The one who is in the higher position is typically the dominant dog. A dog trying to exert their dominance will stand taller, or put their head or feet over the other’s back, or (gasp!) mount the other dog. There’s been no successful mounting yet, but take a look at the cool action photos I snapped yesterday and tell me who you think is alpha dog at the ToadMama abode.
I watch them very carefully to make sure they don’t get carried away. I know they’re not really trying to kill each other because of moments like this when they’ll stop completely, mid-tussle, because they either caught a whiff of something or saw a bird/squirrel/bunny nearby.
Just when I think they’ve had enough, when I think Meg is really getting pissed off and irritated with that fast little shit (what I imagine Meg thinking), I yell for them to stop.
And Meg thinking, “Aw, Mom, c’mon. Let us stay out a little longer. Please?”
Belle has been a wonderful, welcome addition for all of us.