Dominance comes in all forms

This week we waited and waited for fun-day Sunday. Monday we were blessed to have some snow fall in a flurry. Tuesday we had 80 mph winds. Wednesday was just wet. Thursday just a lit bit more of the same. Friday winds came late, and Saturday we had periods of downfall and flooding around the county. But Sunday, now thats when Mother Nature showed her first sign of force and the power of life.
We were told on Saturday that towards the north end of Bastendorf Beach, a group of large breed dogs meet at 9 a.m. every Sunday. I was game and marked it down in my mental dog planner. Honestly, why wouldn't Mamma and James find this to be a fortuitous opportunity? I could get my dog on, and they could get their social on. What better way to cap off a hard-working week than to share the company of my brothers and sisters from anotha' motha'.

As we closed in on our destination, we found no dogs, just more of the powerful aftermath, and right-now-math, of Mother Nature. Bastendorf's north jetty was about to be swallowed up by the sea, yet that did not stop onlookers from having coffee and breakfast in the their trucks. We looked for a bit, then drove farther south where we pulled over and parked. The ocean left us very little beach to play on, but that did not stop Mamma and me from jumping out and enjoying ourselves. We were running around until another dog and human showed up.

Now many of my friends know me as a friendly and non aggressive dog. But apparently raw dog handlers consider my sexiness to be a bit threatening; one could even naively call me dominant. HA! I LAUGH! James has raised me to be respectful of people and other canines, I follow all canine codes of courtesy since I have been socialized from a young age and learned well in the time I was with my birth momma. I always look to James for approval when onlookers come in and try to join our fun.

"Is your dog friendly?" "Has your dog been fixed?" "Is it okay if we say hi?"

"Yes. Please do."

I find it rather interesting when owners of dogs are so careful to ask first and than let themselves be dragged by their dogs in a rush to meet me. First sign of disrespect. Second sign, who is in charge. Answer: dog. Now don't take my kindness for weakness, but I am not just going to sit there and allow some dog to bump up against me while I am in a submissive position, especially when my personal space is encountered with a charge of negative energy.

Next thing I heard was, "You need to call your dog because he is showing signs of dominance." Now you think James was going to take that? Never. "It's that you need to ease up on your leash, Homey." I do not think the man knew that was coming, and he walked away in a hurried manner, being pulled by his dog on a long leash and barked at repeatedly by his dog. Ce la vie! Do you really think we were bothered? No, just thrown off our groove. But it needed to be told. I mean look at me, do I look like I was affected?

Momma kept having me chase her down the beach, then sending me far away to where Daddy stood whistling for me. Then he would send me back to Momma, and over and over again for 15 minutes until I was panting and drained. Literally. When Daddy told me to go peepee before we left, I lifted my leg and nothing was left to come out. But I'm obedient, so I stood with my leg lifted, then jumped in the truck and panted the whole way home. Then I got a cold bath in the wind from Momma, got a blow-dry from Daddy, and now I'm sitting calmly pursuing meaningful communication and blogging.