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Thu 30 Mar, 2006 05:32 pm
The little friends and i went down to the lake today. I took along some chicken coldcuts and a baguette. After we had wandered for a while, we sat down at a picnic table to chow. Now, earlier, i'd seen an elderly gentleman with an Irish Wolfhound and an English Mastiff--two dogs who made a small horse when combined--and they were off the leash. However, i don't comment on those things if it's not a problem for me.
We were eating little chicken sammiches when the Wolfhound suddenly appeared, and was checking out the top of the picnic table--he could see the top just standing there. Miss Cleo (see my avatar picture) crouched down, her ears went back, and she began to growl, showing her teeth--little Miss all of 23 pounds Cleo. Now, under her silky coat, she has the figure of a bulldog, with a wide, bow-legged stance and a neck which is thicker and wider than her head. She was givin' him what my Sweetiepie Girl calls "the evil weasel face." Ol' Irish suddenly decided, it seems, that the notional chance of snatching a scrap of chicken was outweighed by the likely probability of a savage explosion just under his nose--and he backed up two steps, and then turned and loped off.
Now Miss Cleo is not allowed to talk to other dogs that way (I don't want The Girl, Little Miss Thing, to get into trouble with the Sweetiepie Girl). But, as the Hound appeared so suddenly and unexpectedly, eying what she considered OUR food, and as her reaction was rather a natural one, i didn't punish her. She knew she'd done wrong, she got very submissive and crawled over to me. I quietly reassured her--after all, she'd been very good toward other dogs up to that point, as she was afterward.
But it does seem to demonstrate the old country boys' adage that "it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." Often, a sense of proportion does not necessarily lead to what may seem the obvious conclusion.
Dogs are really into hierarchical structures in the pack. I'd say Cleo is a lot higher in your pack than Irish is in his (lord knows you'd want something that big to be submissive).
That's what makes it easy to have cats and dogs together - you just let the dogs know that the cat is at the top of the tree - you don't have to tell the cat, it always assumes it is anyway.
Irish could have choked to death on her. That would define Pyrrhic victory neh?
I feel the need to remind everyone that cats is the very spawn of Satan . . .
It's a good dog you have there. Something to be proud of.
I have often wondered why small dogs think they are 10ft tall and bullet proof, I have to stand over my Miss Foxy at feeding times daily as she is very prone to attack Mr Rotty...and when I say attack I mean she just goes at him latching herself onto his face.
Miss Cleo's "brother," Mr. Bailey, is smaller than she is (he looks bigger, because his fur is "poofy," but she outweighs him by a considerable amount). Nevertheless, he considers himself the alpha dog in any situation (which does not bring him into direct confrontation with Miss Cleo). For years, his best friend was a large black Alsatian, named Scout, who was about six or seven times his size. Mr. Bailey took the alpha dog position, and Scout had no problem with that. I have a wonderful photo in the jeep, with Mr. Bailey sitting up smiling on the sofa, and Scout laying on the floor in front of the sofa with his huge head on his paws. To put his size in perspective, i could pound his butt without bending over, and i'm over six feet tall. I do mean pound, too--i used to hit his butt with my fist, and he would smile.
It's always an adventure when Cleo thinks there might be a threat to her food source.
Or a threat to her pack.
Sometime last winter, Cleo chased away an off-leash Rottweiler that approached hamburger and mrs. hamburger a bit too swiftly.
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Scout was a marvellous dog. It was always fun walking Scout and Bailey together. There was actually a little gang in the neighbourhood about 5 years ago. Scout (about 115 lbs of King Shepherd), Arno (about 140 pounds of some Mastiff/Rottie cross), 3 Bernese Mountain dogs (all over 80 pounds), and Bailey (who weighed in at about 15 pounds in those days). Bailey always walked at the front, and let the big kids know if they needed to deal with anything.
When we <the human companions> stood someplace to talk, Bailey was the point dog - standing at the front and keeping watch, while the big dogs lay at their companions' feet and kinda dozed. Then someone would come by, Bailey would bark, and all the other furkids would leap to their feet and scare away the someone approaching. Quite an effect.
link to a pic of young Bailey and Scout
I watched a chihuahua thouroughly rough up a Toyota Forerunner who had the nerve to beep at him, to make him get out of the middle of the street.
It was awesome.
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