Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Dog park diplomacy

The ayatollah clan recently took Wendell on his first trip to the dog park, that most joyous and fertile of recruiting grounds. Over the years, many a canine has been swayed by my oratory prowess and fragrant smell to embrace the tenets of canine Islam. So I was eager to return, and young Wendell was eager to learn.

The other canines welcomed us warmly, and Wendell took advantage of the large expanse of grass to run some of the tensions out of his long, slender legs. The first remark anyone now makes about Wendell is about how tall he is, or how long his legs are. At this awkward, prepubescent stage, his lower extremities are proportioned roughly like those of one of Salvador Dali's elephants.

So Wendell ran, and he found many a running partner. And I mostly sniffed, gauging the lay of the land as I prepared to launch into one of my fiery sermons.

After a half-hour or so, I noticed Wendell lying on the ground. Just a pup -- and a wispy one at that -- he sometimes takes a submissive posture when other dogs make him nervous. Usually, the other dogs give him a sniff and then kindly go about their business. But on this occasion, a canine stood over Wendell, growling. I rushed to Wendell's side, barking at the overly aggressive dog. "Move along now," I said. "Can't you see you're frightening the pup?" The bully persisted, growling and moving closer to Wendell, who lay flat on his back with his paws outstretched. Again, I barked. "Look, infidel, why don't you pick on someone your own size?" The rude canine barely acknowledged my words before lunging at young Wendell.

As you know, my flock, a big brother is duty-bound to protect his younger sibling. Even if he is a tailbiter. "You asked for it," I growled. I then proceeded to mount this bully of indeterminate gender crossways, my jackhammer-like pelvic thrusting likely bruising a rib or two. "Now who's the alpha dog?" I barked, smiling. Well it didn't take long for the humans to separate us. The bully, now properly chastened, slinked away in shame.

"Come on," I said to Wendell, "let's call it a day."

7 comments:

Nan and B.A.G.S. the pug -aka Aine said...

I thought that thrusting was only for the harem?!

However... very good tatic my husband!!!

Tigersan said...

Very interesting tactic. Me am learning the ways of the Woof :)

Me wonders if that tactic will work on me parents the next time me forget to not mark the shoes ;)

Eagle The Pug said...

Flyer hasn't made it to the dog park yet, but we're hoping to get there this weekend. In the meantime, the three of us made you a little Christmas Greeting.

h-train said...

Nothing like a dry hump to show them whose boss, way to go Mugsy. Hey, Tigersan is back too!

Ayatollah Mugsy said...

What happens in the harem stays in the harem, Aine.

Tigersan, I am glad you're OK. I feared you'd been taken hostage when I saw you tied up the other day.

Thank you, Eagle. It was magnificent. Happy holidays to you and your family.

Yes, H-Train. Praise Allah!

Pancho said...

While, clearly, you need not exhibit your alpha male status to prove your greatness... it is still completely awesome when you do, right? Nothing is quite like the joy of telling another dog who's the boss.

With continuing respect,

Pancho
(All-American Mutt Dog)

Ayatollah Mugsy said...

You've got that right, Pancho.