We had a toy war this morning.
The little dogs have three toys that they like. One is a monkey, one is a gingerbread man, one is a squeaky dumbbell. Chancey is very toy-oriented and gets very defensive of the toys. Robbie likes the stuffed toys, not so much the rubber ones.
Today, Chance was playing with the dumbbell. She set it down and walked away. Her brother picked up the dumbbell, and started playing with it, which was unusual, but I figured as long as he is gently playing and not trying to chew it up, that's OK.
Chancey didn't see it that way. She came over and stood by him and growled and growled. He usually lets her have it, but didn't today. He got up and walked away. She went out the room and came back, then started with him again. I told her to leave him alone, and to go get on her chair. She rolled her eyes at me. Then our black cat walked over.
My children are beautiful, not brilliant. They get really confused over whether or not the cat is another Schipperke. Usually, they give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she is--this gives her better treatment than the other two cats. Today, though, Chance assumed she was in line to take the toy, and that was not happening. By the way, the whole time, the monkey toy, which is their absolute favorite toy in the whole wide world, was right by him. She didn't want that. I had to remove her from the situation.
Finally, Robbie got up and left the toy; I guess it's not fun to t'ant your sister when she isn't around to suffer. So Chancey came and took it. She was sitting, squeaking it, and he came back in. He loves to lick Chancey's face. It's very cute to watch, but she hates it. so he started that.
Such a growling. I couldn't figure out if she was madder about being kissed, or if she thought he was trying to take the toy again, but she was all hunched over it, snarling in impotent rage.
It was so funny to watch.