Place In The Pack

He was in the house, my house, he tried to be nice, that was when I knew. Some of us have a doggy-sense that tells us what is going on and my doggy-sense was doing more than tingling. So, I told him, I told him good and proper that this was my pack and if he was going to join then he’d better toe the line.

It was odd because the rest of the pack hadn’t mentioned a potential new addition, yet there on Monday morning he appeared acting like he belonged. He was shut in the newbie wing of my house, banging around and being friendly with my staff.

When I joined I was kept in the newbie wing of the house, with its concrete floors, minimal furniture and blockades preventing access to the rest of the residence. Over time I established myself as the pack leader, started roaming where I wanted and had the run of the place. With this freedom I had carpet to run on, a kitchen to sniff food in, and beds in almost every room, this pad was mine. Latterly I’d seldom ventured into the newbie wing and a few days prior to our new arrival it was closed off, which I wasn’t too bothered about. Had I known the reason then I wouldn’t have been so easy going.

Once the new addition was let into the house and shut behind the newbie door I knew, I just knew that he was looking to become part of our pack. I shouted, I growled (I do a fine growl; deep and menacing), and he must have known from my good looks that I am good with my paws as you can’t stay this handsome if others get close enough to have a chew.

At the end of the day he left with my woof echoing in his ears. He was gone. I’d established the pecking order around here and he was out before he’d properly joined, or so I thought…

Tuesday morning he returned. I was shocked. It couldn’t be. He’d come back for more. I spent that day putting him in his place, I knew he was cowering behind the door, I could smell it. After day two he went away and I wondered if he was away for good, or just spending days with us and nights somewhere else as he wasn’t as dog as me and unable to hack it here 24/7.

Wednesday and he was back, Thursday, Friday, every day I’d tell him I was in charge and at the end of every day he’d leave. After Friday he didn’t come back anymore. Since then things have returned to normal and the three of us are back in our usual routine, though the newbie wing is still out-of-bounds.

Thinking back it is odd that my pack would try to adopt an adult human. The fact he was called “The Builder” by my packmates seemed odd as it isn’t a common name as far as I can tell in the strange language they use in this country. I’d been happy for them to call me “The Leader” but if “The” is also a commoner forename then I’ll be having second thoughts on that and may insist upon “Sir, Pack Leader, Sir”.

I’ll leave you with an action shot of me leaping into a room with my birthday duck, having a quacking time I was.