We ain’t got no underdogs in this house! All three dogs are over-dogs, to us anyway.
Well, okay. I suppose in polling the three dog pack, Bonnie heads the list as top dog. She has been top dog since she got here at 10 weeks old. It’s something in her personality and every other dogs acknowledges her position. And they are fine about it. She is the leader, but a very good-tempered, charming leader. The kind of boss you wish you’d had.
Duke is in the middle. He wants to be on top, but that’s not something you choose. I think nature chooses for each dog. Gibbs has chosen the bottom of the little pecking order and has never shown any enthusiasm to be anywhere but where he is. We treat them the same — mostly. They eat the same food and get the same treats with as much love as they a willing to accept.
Bonnie is the most independent of our pooches. She will join you on the sofa — for a while — but she has her own stuff going on. She doesn’t want to hang out for long petting sessions. She drops by for a visit, plays a while, then goes off and does her thing. Gibbs is our protector. If he senses a stranger somewhere nearby, he’s out barking at it. He’s a good barker. Sounds much bigger than he is, although he is also bigger than he appears. And has quite the set of jaws on him.
Duke is busy, busy, busy. A classic middle kid, he has to make sure everyone is doing what they should be doing and apparently, he knows what that is. He certainly knows when play time and ball throwing time has come. He rounds everyone up, jumps up on each person to make sure they are in one piece — which he does by sniffing each piece of you, with a special stop at your ears. He does love sniffing ears, which makes me giggle.
Gibbs looks like an underdog, though. He is the saddest looking dog in the world. He looks sad while he eats a treat and not every dog can do that!
United, they are our pack. When we get up in the morning, it feels like we have at least a hundred of them, all swirling and woofing and huffing and chuffing. Circling around you as you carefully move towards the kitchen, trying to avoid stepping on — or being stepped on — by one of the pack.
Our dogs. Our gang.