Charley and the Ferocious Corgi

Cassie, late the beaten-down 25-pound victim of the gallumphing Charley the Golden Retriever Puppy, has come into her own. All of a sudden one day it dawned on her that even though he weighs three times more than she does, she’s bigger than him.

The astonishing thing is, he thinks so, too. She actually chases him around the yard, around and around the trees and back and forth in a great steeplechase. Haven’t managed any good photos of these antics, because they’re very fast and digital cameras are very slow. Cassie moves like a rocket; the only reason Charley can outrun her is that one of his strides equals about eight of hers. And, I think, she lets him outrun her—that’s part of the game. In any event, attempts to photograph them end in brown and white blurs.

Cassie cultivates an absolutely terrifying wolf-like growl. Addressed to a human, it would make you or me climb up the nearest tree. Charley thinks it’s hilarious. He rears back on his hind legs, assumes a goofy grin, and waves his front paws at her. This causes her to charge him, growling, roaring, and snapping. She never makes contact—clearly she has no intention of biting. But you couldn’t prove that by me.

In addition to the dawn steeplechase, we have the daily Bully-Stick Competition. Dried bull dongs are to dogs as diamonds and rubies are to humans. Except humans don’t eat diamonds and rubies. This morning I realized Charley is deliberately baiting Cassie with these things.

Usually I give each dog a bully stick (gotta be fair around here). Instead of one dog going off in one corner and the other to another corner to chew, Cassie drops hers on the floor and charges Charley, growling and barking. She takes his away from him. He walks over and grabs the other one. She drops her prize and goes after him again. He jumps up in the air and waves his paws around. And so it goes, loudly and boisterously, for 15 or 20 minutes. Often Cassie loses interest in the object and comes into my office to sleep under the desk. Charley then ends up with both of them.

Yesterday when he was here he left one of these pricey toys—which cost about as much as diamonds and rubies—in the back yard. So when he went out on the porch for his morning policing of the property (he has to be sure everything is still in its place), I handed it to him. Cassie was in the kitchen glaring out at him. He picked it up and threw it at her. Well of course she emitted a lupine roar and charged out the door like a wild beast in a Roman arena. A huge “fight” ensued, with much bouncing, barking, growling, and lunging. Ridiculous!

Sometimes these encounters end with Charley standing four-footed in front of her and emitting a long series of monotonous barks: warf! warf! warf! warf! warf! warf!… “SHUT UP, DOG!”

Apparently in Dogese “warf!” means “mine!” Or maybe “give it back!”

At any rate, from the Human’s perspective, it’s a relief to see that she now can hold her own with him. Clearly he’s not going to hurt her. And it’s interesting to consider how long it’s taken for them to come to this accommodation. Maybe it’s because he was such a young puppy at first…possibly female dogs have some instinct that prevents them from beating up on little pups. Or possibly a pup has to achieve some maturity before it learns how pack hierarchy works. Whatever, now that he’s about seven months old, she has unmistakably established her primacy.