Being a part of the pack

We're dog people. And I just uttered the biggest understatement of the year. With 7 in our current "herd" I'd say we qualify as dog people.

We just added one a couple of weeks ago and its always interesting to watch how the new one finds his or her way in the pack. They have their own pecking order that only they understand and we can't force the issue.

Up until 2004 we'd always had girls. I saw typical girl jealousy between the first and second ones. Our first had been an "only child" for a full year and was not pleased to be gaining a sister. Typical first child syndrome. She was known to ignore the new puppy completely and pushed her off my lap on more than one occasion.

The second was tickled to death when the third one came along. She had a friend! Our third dog was our first pound rescue so that was a challenge for the us. She was the sweetest thing. And the oldest was glad there was someone to play with the second one as she could not be bothered. She made it very clear from the outset that she was in charge, and was never questioned.

Eventually we picked up number 4 running the streets. We had no intention of keeping her but it was so cold that night that I wanted to take her the house to stay warm while we looked for her owners. That was in January 1997 or 1998. We quit looking. She loved to stay in the basement under the stairs. It took a long time before she'd join the rest of the group. And to be the largest of the four, she was the most timid. Afraid of her own shadow. She had no problem being on the bottom of the pile.

Time moved on. We lost numbers two and three. It was quiet. Two older dogs, one couldn't hear or walk or see very good, but still lots of love. The other continued to stay to herself. I started thinking about a puppy again. Someone who would know I was home and be excited. I'll never forget the day my husband called with the news. He'd been traveling and came across a puppy that had been hit by a car and was dragging herself out of the road with her front paws when he came driving up. He grabbed her up and brought her home. She had a broken pelvis and a horrible case of the mange. For anyone that doesn't know it, people can get the mange also. But we fixed her up and the first time that she came skidding down the hallway's hardwood floors to meet me at the door my heart just sang!

So, number five slowly started becoming the boss as number one grew older. Later that same year we did the unthinkable. Rescued a boy dog! His place in the pack was easy. He was special and he was going to protect all the womenfolk. And he still does. If he thinks there is anything outside to be concerned about he will literally sleep on top of me and face the door.

A couple of months later, number six moved in. For those keeping score, three dogs joined the family in one year's time. Number one was now too old to care. Number four just wanted to know what in the world had she done to deserve this! Three puppies. Twelve months. Not good.

Then number one passed away at the age of 16. Even the puppies knew something was wrong. The Queen Bee was gone. Number five stepped up to the plate. She was large and in charge.

So we rocked on for a year or so and then, the big plunge. Twins. Adopted two at a time. One boy and one girl. They only have eyes for each other. They wait for each other to go outside, they play, they slept next to each other for a long time. Only thing was, number six. He scared the bejeebers out of the new puppy. All he had to do was look at that little dog and he would go to the bathroom where he stood. Number six didn't bother the girl twin, only the boy.

So another year passes and, you guessed it, number 10 literally runs into our lives. He's a sweetheart. And he suffers from seizures. We're guessing that's the reason that we've had a hard time finding his owners. I guess they didn't want to deal with it. My husband looked at me after we got the news and just said "I guess there's a reason they all find their way to us". And he's right. We're kind of the Brangelina of the dog world (but we're up one so they'd better get on the stick!) and there must be some type of doggie communication that brings them here.

Number six is trying very hard to let number ten know that he's the boss. Number ten just stands there looking at him. Boy twin is tickled to death that the big dog has someone else to intimidate. He's slept better in the last two weeks than I think he has since he and his sister moved in. He's no longer the focus of the attention.

Its the same with people. We can be the top dog, or we can live alone in the basement. We can lead or follow. Be part of the problem or part of the solution. Think about the groups you're in. Are you always an officer, or always a worker bee, or do you just show up because your BlackBerry sent you a reminder? People watching can be fun. But how often do we step back and see ourselves as other see us. Do others call what we think of as leadership skills bullying? Are people disappointed because we don't step up the plate enough? Are we just so shy that we can't? Are we head-over-heels excited when someone new joins the group, or are we intent on proving our place in the group to the new kid?

I think its important to do a self-assessment from time to time. Am I doing all I can to be good productive citizen/member/participant in my world? Can I push myself beyond my perceived boundaries. Can I be a good follower when my skill set doesn't fit well with being the leader? Can I give my all to what I'm doing?

Think about. Just like within my Thundering Herd we all have our place in this world. And our "place" is not the same in all circumstances. Know how you fit best and make the most of it.