King of my Castle

They say a man's home is his castle but I believe that that saying is wrong.  The home is only the man's castle because the dog lets him live there.  

The dog is really the big cheese as far as the castle is concerned.  

I'm clearly the boss in my household.  The People that live here may try to tell you differently, but they are mistaken.  Part of my strategy is to let them believe that they are the bosses so that they'll keep my food dish full.  It is a small price to pay.

If you are not convinced, allow me to give you some proof:

1.  Guess who eats first?  That's right!  Me.  Every morning, kibble lands in my dish before anyone else eats and every evening at 4pm, same thing.  

2.  I have a bed in the living room.  I'm allowed to curl up on my bed any old time I want.  I don't have to go to the back of the house unless I choose to.  Sure, I may choose to curl up on the kitchen floor but that is only because I want to.

3.  They throw food at me.  The Little One sees me and if there is anything in her hand she hands it to me.  I don't even have to lift a paw.  That's power.

4.  The neighbors fear me.  The dogs across the street see me and start barking in terror.  The cats next door spend countless hours frozen in fear on the other side of the fence.  Even if I run up to them and bark in their faces, they just sit there.  Frozen.  Terrified.  Sometimes if they are particularly scared of my presence they will move to the front yard and sit silently under the tree, praying I won't see them.  

Chickens.

5.  Does anyone wipe YOUR feet when you come in from outside?  'Nuff said.

Yeah.  It's good to be king.