Now that Sissy-cat lives with us temporarily, I see how brave she is, and how fearful I am. I’m not a coward, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t have her self-assurance.

It seems I’m constantly on the watchout for things that can hurt me, while this thought doesn’t occur to her. I envy how she sees the world as one big oyster at her disposal – my world is more like a game of survival.

I’d been wondering what does it mean for our little pack, what’s my role, what would I do if someone attacked us. Would I be brave enough to fight or would I run away? Yesterday we found out.

As we were meeting friends in the city dog park, we saw an ugly fight. Two big dogs were both certain that they should be King of the Park, so obviously they showed each other they weren’t. They were far enough so I didn’t worry but after the fight was done, and Missy talked enough with her friend, we set off.

That’s when one of the wanna-be-kings came over. He was friendly with Missy, and she petted him but I felt her insecurity. My protector instincts kicked in immediately. There was my human, fearing a dog, who was nice at that moment but wasn’t trustworthy.

I jumped in front of them.

“Leave her be!” I growled.

He was stunned.

“I just want scratches!” he tried to explain, but I was having none of it.

“She’s not giving them to you! She’s my Missy!”

He tried to get around me to get to her but I blocked his maneuver.

“Go away, we’re leaving!”

As we did, I kept at Missy’s heel, growling at Big Muscle to make him keep his distance. He did.

I guess that made me Queen of the Park, but more importantly, Protector of the Pack.