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had seniority but Ellie had strength and a will to win. Many nights amid much growling and whispered canine threats, I had to go downstairs and declare that I, in fact, was the “top dog” in the house and growl convicingly at both of them before I could get any sleep. In the end, they settled into a relationship of peaceful co-existence if not actual friendship.
I hauled Lucy and Ellie everywhere including to work on a regular basis. Lucy sprawled on the back seat while Ellie hunkered down in the way back. On our nightly walks, El was generally three paces in front of me or three paces behind unless a thunderstorm was imminent when she walked hard by my side. She was always up for a good mole hunt, and, while seemingly casual in her pursuit, always on the mark. She loved the pursuit—the “game” of hunting. We contantly played games together with hide and seek being a particular favorite. I was nearly always the prey, and she caught me by “tagging” me with her nose. El loved to dive in next to me when I sat on the grass and she would pound that right paw into my side demanding a little love.
Although El started out sleeping on the floor downstairs, she lost no time in easing on upstairs. From there it was a short hop to my bed. El loved to laze around in the morning, streching and pawing at the covers trying to get even more comfortable. But, should she sense that the perimeters of her domain were threatened, boom, into action she would spring—barking and growling with teeth bared. Protecting her territory
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