Tyson vs. Holyfield...German Shepherd Style

When Bristol and I were younger - even a few months ago - I didn't question her. We were friends. I learned very early that she was the alpha dog. If she wanted something, I let her have it. If she told me off, I went to the ground and never challenged her. It wasn't worth it. She'd kick my ass. She was undeniably the boss in our little dog pack.

But she's 13 now. And she's showing her age. She's weak. And though humans have this curious but I suppose honourable quality of caring for their old, their weak, their infirm, it doesn't work that way in the animal world. In a wolf pack, when a wolf is old and infirm, we start to challenge it for the leadership spot. And we will kill it - or drive it out of the pack.

Though I am aware we are not a pack of wolves living in the wild, there are undeniable instincts we cannot fight. One of them tells Bristol to be defensive around me because I may try to usurp her position as alpha or worse. The other tells me to fight her.

So now, when she takes a shot at me, I fight back. And we've had two knock down, drag out fights.

I know it's hard for the humans. But it's not personal to us. Things have changed. It's too much for grandma to manage on her own in the house - who could blame her?

Sooooooooooooooooooo....guess what?

I get to go home!!

Grandma is bringing me back home on Friday. I feel badly - but I can't help my instincts. Either can Bristol.

Now, it's up to my human to figure out what the hell she will do with me for the rest of the campaign.