Maintaining the position of Alpha Dog in a Beta Zone

It’s been cold the last few days, but I really didn’t expect it to snow in the living room. It did. The circumstances behind the white dusting are easy to explain.

I have a really nice dog. I can leave Dixie in the house for hours without worrying about an accident or her getting into something. Of course, she’s had no competition for a while. My older dog Zuckey didn’t give her any competition during her last years. Zuckey slept, while Dixie got first choice of the cookies, first choice of bedding, and first choice of where she rode in the car. Zuckey just didn’t have the energy to argue. I understood. There are days when it’s just easier to give in.

Then along came Brandy. Not the bottled, liquid kind … although there are times when I am driven to it. Brandy is my friend’s dog. When my friend came to stay, so did Brandy. When they stayed, Brandy settled in quickly. Now, Brandy is big … She has thirty pounds and a good foot on Dixie. She’s sweet. She’s loving. She sheds like a load of loose hay. This is nothing new. But she has been the alpha dog at her house … just like Dixie has been the alpha dog here. Zuckey had moved onto Omega long ago.

Those with dogs will understand. There must be an alpha dog, or things will be unsettled. Blood will be spilled. Ears will be nipped. Toys will be stolen and shredded. That’s what happened. I’d found a toy when we were moving some of Brandy’s daddy’s stuff. The stuffed toy is a weird little hedgehog looking toy. It also looks a little like a burrito or a pancake or a cow patty. Whatever, the hedgehog’s faults, Brandy loves that hedgehog and was thrilled when I brought it in.

Dixie liked it, too. She examined it closely while Brandy was outside. She found the squeaker and proceeded to try it out. The sound from those little plastic squeakers can be heard three counties away. Although Brandy doesn’t fit comfortably through my medium sized dog door, she came through the house like the “one-ten special.”

I must give Dixie credit. She is a smart little dog. She dropped that hedgehog without even a second thought. Brandy caught it mid-air, flung it across the room, and caught it before it hit down. Without a word said, everyone in the room knew that hedgehog was Brandy’s ... not Dixie’s.

The next morning, I noticed some cotton balls in the middle of the living room. The “snow” stretched across the room … all the way … to where Brandy was chewing on the hedgehog. Dixie was cowering in the corner. I expected Dixie to be the culprit, however, on closer examination, I realized she had nothing to do with it.

Now, Dixie creeps around that hedgehog like it is Kryptonite. And who knows, it might be. It seems the “Hedgehog Incident” was the turning point. Now, Dixie is “second fiddle” most of the time. They don’t fight over the toys. All of Dixie’s are up for grabs, but the hedgehog is Brandy’s … or will be as soon as it gets out of surgery.

The only place that Dixie is the “leader” is when they manage to get out of the house or the fence and run around. Dixie knows the lay of the land but is followed closely by Brandy. They stay together and eventually return home, blaming the other one for the insurrection. I figure the longer they are together, the closer they will be … but the hedgehog will always be Brandy’s.