Bailey the Brave

Last summer, we went to visit Nick's parents in Fargo for a week. Bailey came with. Nick's parents had puppies, but we figured it would be okay for her.

One of the puppies, Benjamin, is...not really what you call brave. Actually he's the opposite of brave. I think he's afraid of air. That's the only explanation for his behavior, which is mostly just tremble in fear when anyone moves. Especially Nick. Actually, his fear of Nick is so ridiculous it's amusing. Sometimes so ridiculous it's annoying, because I'm usually tripping over him after he dives under my feet because Nick did something terrifying, such as turn a page in the book he's reading. Until I met other dachshunds, I didn't know they could be happy, because Benny was the only one I knew.

Anyway. Benny is about...5 times the size of Bailey? Roughly. Bailey was terrified of Benny at first. She was terrified of all the puppies. But it didn't take too long for Bailey to see who had the power in a hypothetical Bailey-Benny face-off.

One morning, I was sitting in the kitchen, and Benny was close by, staring intently out the window. Maybe Nick was outside. I'm not sure. Bailey walked up behind him, silently. Benny was not aware of any of this, having focused his single brain cell on whatever was going on outside the window. Not meaning any harm, Bailey stopped right behind him and barely sniffed his tail. From what I saw, it seemed like Benny must have had a firecracker lit under his butt. He shot forwards about 4 feet, which was probably the maximum distance his short little legs could carry him.

Benny scampered off, terrified. If kittens could talk, Bailey would've said "Are you kidding me?" as she gave Benny a look of amazement at his tremendous bravery and trotted over to the puppy couch, where she plopped down, probably in the spot that smelled most like Benny. Because clearly she owns Benny.

Go ahead. Call her a bully. I don't blame you.