Gracie

Part Rottweiler and part Labrador Retriever, Gracie is a massive beast of a dog.  Not even two years old, Gracie bounces and flops through this house--completely unaware of her own massive bulk and her invasive presence ensures that everyone around her will be aware that she's in the room.  I've known this dog since she was six months old; about the same amount of time as Will, when he took her in and has raised her since.  

I know Gracie's secret.  

When I moved into Will's place, I knew that I would have to adjust to living in Gracie's space.  The day that I moved in, my shorts were covered in her drool.  Where I once had to deal with Miss Lester's hair all over me, this dog drooled on everything that she came in contact with.  I don't have to mention how much I love dogs, but this was one dog that I refuse to bond with.  Partly because even though I'm not with Miss Lester, I still consider her my dog.  Don't get me wrong, I don't ignore Gracie--it would hard not to, it's just that she's not a dog that I would play with.  I barely even pet her.  And whenever she comes begging for food, I give her a hardened stare that sends her the opposite way.  

A few nights ago, I was getting ready to go out for a late night bike ride.  As I was moving my bike out of the living room and onto the porch, Gracie decided to lay down smack dead in the living room floor, between the front door and where I was standing.  Rather than demand that she move, I instead continued to roll my bike backwards, forcing her to jump from where she was and to immediately back out of my way.  

The narrow hallway that leads from the front of Will's house to the bedrooms was the next location of Gracie and my showdown.  Where she would normally bolt through, causing Will, Glenn or me to jump or be knocked out of her way, I now stand firm and push her out of the way with my leg.  I make it a point to never been in a position to where she can see me at my eye level; instead always looking down at her--again, my stare sending her the other way.  

In spite of these actions, which will eventually teach her which of us is in charge, I'm not mean to the dog.  I know how much Will loves her.  I don't know how he does it, but he does care about the dog.  

But it doesn't mean that I have to care about her.