Drake is a demon

Percy is a pain. He’s always been a pain. He’ll probably always be a pain. Percy’s obnoxiousness can sometimes distract us from the other trouble makers in the house. Drake is quickly taking over the rating of most terrible lately.

Drake and Haas are not nearly as voracious as Percy when it comes to food. They often don’t finish their meals and as Percy will consume everyone’s food, they have to be fed separately in their crates. If Drake and Haas do not finish their bowls, I hide them for later. It generally works out. This is where the power play began.

As I was taking Drake’s food out of his crate, he sniffed the bowl so I offered him a bite for the road. He grabbed a mouthful and, instead of going to eat in front the tv, he dropped the kibble in front of Percy’s crate and ate them one piece at a time while poor Percy watched. I figured this was a fluke and went on about my business.

In the meantime, when Drake decided he was ready to snuggle, he would climb up on the couch and sit on Percy until Percy left. Then, Percy would sit and stare mournfully while gnawing on his blanket. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure I heard Drake laugh. This was my first indisputable sign that Drake might be a bully.

I knew he might need an intervention when it was time for the dog’s flea tablet. The medication delivery system is a part of a peanut butter sandwich. Haas ate his. Percy ate his. Drake looked at it, looked at me, crossed his paws, and huffed. Fine. I opened his crate to tear it into pieces. Instead, he grabbed part of the sandwich, dropped it in front of Percy and ate it slowly.

Drake is such a punk. I’d like to say I’ll have him trained and in line by the end of this extended time at home, but I have a feeling it will be quite the battle of wills. Maybe he’ll have us trained!