Auguste is just a baby. He lies on his back and sucks his toes, he pees whenever and wherever he feels like it, and he cries at night, because he hates to be alone. A good mother knows you mustn’t yell at your children when they cry at night. Nor may you bring them to bed with you. So I go downstairs, lift Mr. Auguste up by the scruff of his neck as his real mother would do, and deposit him in his own bed, saying firmly, “Stay!”. Repeat fifty times. Do not lose your calm, or the puppy will become scared and cry even louder. After fifty times, (well, actually more like ten) Mr. Auguste stayed in his bed.

Rusty has decided she does not like having a baby brother after all. Like most only children, our ‘only dog’ was used to having her own bed, her own room, her own water dish. And now this little fuzzy sausage on legs is sleeping in HER bed, drinking from HER waterbowl, and even more horrifying – it eats dog food! (there won’t be any left for her!) I can see her thinking, “I hope this is a rental.”

Auguste is blissfully unaware of sibling rivallry. In the garden, Rusty runs and leaps as fast and high as she can to show how strong she is. Auguste just sticks his nose in the grass and snuffles or fights with a leaf. Then Auguste notices her and barks – this perplexes Rusty – she does not bark except at hedgehogs, so she goes lookig for that dratted hedgehog, and Auguste is convinced he scared her off and is Proud.

Auguste does not like the rake. He attacks it. He also leaps on the mop and tries to kill it. He is absolutely fearless, dashing up to the garden gate when the garbage truck rumbles by, unfazed by noise or size. Rusty is timid, and watches all this with a “Look at that fool” expression. Auguste naps between bouts of energetic playing. He also hides all his toys in his bed, and this morning dragged his food dish into his bed and proceeded to fight with it. The fight ended with the dish upside down and Auguste unable to get a hold of it. So Auguste barked and growled at his dish while Rusty looked on with a pained expression.

Today I bought Rusty a new dog bed to replace the one Auguste has commandered, and also I bought her a rope toy. She is thrilled. She is lying in her new bed with her new toy, and when Auguste comes over she gives him a low growl to put him in his place. Auguste pretends not to hear and trots over to her old bed and plops down in it with a sigh of contentment. I bought Auguste a purple and orange spikey plastic hedgehog that squeaks.
They are both in Rusty’s new bed. Auguste just got a spanking because he thinks he might be the boss of the house and he growled at me. A baby growl, but that earned him a swat on the butt with a folded newspaper. He took refuge in Rusty’s bed, and since he’s punished, Rusty feels smug and is letting him cuddle up to her.

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