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I brooded on the thought of my stolen squirrel most of the night. I wasn't hard. I could hear the lab shepherd chewing greedily on the gristle of it like chewing gum on the other side of the yard. The sound of it made my blood boil. So much so that the following morning, as soon as the sun rose, I felt ready.

Ready for what, exactly, I didn't quite know, but I wanted to show the shepherd-lab that I was done rolling on my back for him and that he had no right to anymore squirrels from me. It didn't matter if he was Alpha or not. I didn't realize it, but I was filled with a very human-like bravado and what I yearned for was a very human concept of justice. However, I was equally full of human foolishness as well as I stalked my way across the yard, my head hot and my tail high.

He saw me coming as I'd made no attempt to hide myself. He snarled and got slowly to his feet, staring at me intimidatingly the whole time. As a final insult, he swallowed the gristly bit of squirrel he'd been chewing on all night. It disappeared into that thickened gullet of his, so smugly and confidently. I could smell the blood on his breath.

He faced me and I realized that there were watching dogs behind me, but they weren't there to back me up. The shepherd-lab stepped forward and with a quick snap of his mouth to either side, made his betas step back. All at once it hit me what this must look like. It must look like I was challenging the shepherd-lab for dominance. Involuntarily, a few drops of urine leaked from my sheathe and my tail lowered, but it was far too late to escape now. I tried to summon up that fiery spirit I'd known and not let the timid self I'd become take control, it could be of no use to me now. I hunched my shoulders and stiffened my legs, and I raised my tail as high as it would go; my pouch as yet remained empty and that was a disadvantage considering the age and experience of my opponent, but I tried not to think about it.

I realized too, that as I was apparently now involved in a ritual dominance fight, that this was about more than simply "beating" the shepherd-lab. Eyes surrounded us, brown, black, yellow and hazel and blue. As long as we observed the ritual, they would not intervene, not even the shepherd-lab's betas would jump in to help him, but if I didn't play by the rules, all bets were off and I'd be one against many.

And what rules were there and how did I know them? Well, I felt them instinctually, just as the ritual itself ran in my blood and the others' as well. Only a few moments had passed and yet a theatre had formed, as naturally as a group of birds take flight together. This wasn't about killing or maiming, in fact its purpose was the exact opposite of that. This was about demonstrating who would win in a fight, if we indeed had to fight to the death. But it was more than that too, as a smaller dog with big spirit could easily cow a larger dog. And for us it was different as well because our image of dominance was skewed in certain other directions. This fight was as much about impressing the rest of the pack as it was physically defeating the shepherd-lab. This was because I'd picked a fight with the Alpha and the result of our match could potentially change the whole hierarchy so central to our lives. I felt immediately at a disadvantage.

The shepherd-lab walked towards me slowly, conserving his energy. He thought I wasn't worth the effort of the fight, that much was obvious. He waddled, even walking so slowly, so massive was his paunch and below his thick, wavering neck, a brisket larger than a ripe grapefruit bounced bountifully. He looked in prime form and despite his excessive weight, he was barely more than a year old, he was flush was adolescent strength and still not yet at his adult size. I felt like a puppy looking at him as I stood watching him approach me.

I growled low, and more loudly as he came closer. I wouldn't roll on my back, I wouldn't. It'd end the fight sure, but I knew that the shepherd-lab wasn't going to let me go even with that signal. He was intent on hurting me to teach me who was boss. I moved to the side and the circle of dogs suddenly seemed close. Normal dogs in a pack perhaps wouldn't have blocked the direction of a dominance fight, but we weren't entirely normal. They kept me from moving past them and defined the area of our fight, both because they wanted to watch and because - again due to our perception of dominance - it wasn't right to make the Alpha have to move around too much.

In fact the dominance of our Alpha was defined by regal size and regal preposition over lighter, more mobile dogs. The more I backed away, I quickly realized, the more feeble and flighty I appeared to the crowd. I stopped when someone snapped at my tail and jumped forward. The shepherd-lab, still with that cocky, aggressive look in his eyes stood still, bracing his legs for me. I had to go to him. If I moved away again, I risked the crowd turning on me. So, with no other options I could think of, I charged.

I slammed into his chest, and the shepherd-lab took the blow like a brick wall takes a stiff breeze. He didn't even budge, damn he was heavy! I got my teeth into his neck, but he hardly noticed. All I felt against my teeth was loose skin and fat. It was so elastic and there was so much give to it, that my teeth couldn't even get enough purchase to tear the skin. I'm sure all he felt was a pinch from my all out attack. He moved forward, pushing with his weight and despite my own hefty stature, it was like the weight of the world was pressing against me. The shepherd-lab was over two and a half times my weight, maybe three. He breathed calmly as I tried to bite harder and pulled at the skin of his fatty neck. Not even moving very quickly, he reached his head down and grabbed one of my forelegs. I was too close to stop him and didn't think to let go of his neck. Unlike mine, his teeth gripped painfully against my foreleg and I began to bleed. But that wasn't all he was doing. He pulled it and by chance it happened to be the same leg I'd injured against another dog earlier that year. The pain in my shoulder was blinding and I can't help but think now that the shepherd-lab remembered that I'd been injured there in the past and used that against me.

Being a puppy and inexperienced with fighting in general, I let go of the shepherd-lab's neck and the fatty connective tissue sprang back into place to form his many sagging collars like nothing had happened. I tried to bite at his ears under my chin, but the shepherd-lab surprised me by moving fast this time. Before I'd known what happened, he'd twisted his neck and sent me almost head over heels to the ground. I lay there stunned at what had just happened, especially since I'd done most of the work myself, just to avoid twisting my shoulder out of its socket. Then the great bulk of the shepherd lab was looming over me. His intent was obvious: He was going to smash me under his prodigious body. His victory would be assured and my humiliation would be absolute. A poetic and fit ending, considering what we expected of our alpha males. We wanted to see proof that our Alpha's size made them practically invincible. So far, I'd done nothing to make that view incorrect. In the audience's mind, I lost because I wasn't nearly fat enough to challenge him properly, and woe to me for even thinking that I could, silly, skinny puppy that I was.

Never mind the fact that I didn't even come here wanting to challenge his authority. But none of that mattered. The shepherd-lab's huge bulk was shifting past the point of no return, his furry tan flank was going to slam and then pin me between it and the ground. But I was tired of people stepping on me. I rolled on my back and narrowly dodged the shepherd-lab as his weight came crashing down. He huffed as the wind was pressed out of him by his own falling flab. I got to my feet as a spry young dog does, although my own pudge made my spine pop as I did so. I was breathing hard because I was out of shape. So was the shepherd-lab, but only because he'd taken a bad fall. So far he'd hardly moved during this whole fight. I stood there, watching him slowly get back up, debating whether I should attack him now or wait. Would the audience react badly if I tackled him before he rose? Surely, I didn't have to wait for his lardy ass to recover before I could go at him again? I had to think about how I would react, seeing the epic frame of the Alpha male assaulted in such a way. Surprisingly I thought I wouldn't like it, especially since the upstart - me - had so much less weight - and image! - on him than the reigning Alpha. I realized at that point that I couldn't win.

Even if I managed to beat the shepherd-lab bloody, and that seemed a long shot since I'd not even scratched him yet and I was bleeding a lot from my leg, no one would accept a lightweight like me as their Alpha. They might even turn on me if I won. The situation was hopeless. My fiery spirit was the only thing that kept me from rolling over right then. If I didn't have a message for the rest of the pack, then I at least had one for the shepherd-lab and it was what I'd originally come here to say to him. I was done with being stepped on by him.

So I waited for him to get up. He did so slowly, as if he knew I was waiting from the start. He did it in stages, twisting his hips and legs around for the most comfortable, most conservative way of rising, as well as giving himself more time to catch his breath. I noticed that he licked his chops more than once. I think this was because his side was hurting more from the fall than I'd thought, but at the time, I was only thinking that he must be hungry for his breakfast already; the cocky tub-dog.

When he was up, he came at me despite the heavy breathing. He'd shown no signs of it, but the dog could move! The shepherd-lab had played all his cards close to his chest, letting me think the worst of him, but in reality he was a good fighter. Far better than me, for starters. He angled me to the edge of the crowd without me knowing. Someone bit my thick rump and I narrowly dodged a bite to my head as a result. I jumped up and boxed the side of his head with a paw as I did. I landed beside him and noticed something else about the way he was attacking me, straight-on sort of like a bulldozer. He moved mostly with his neck, shifting his weight on his forepaws, but never really lifting them very much from the ground; he was too heavy to use his forepaws effectively. I moved past him, like I was dodging and he turned after me... putting most of his weight on the forepaw near me.

Before I was past, I kicked that leg with all my strength with a hind leg, aiming for the back of the knee. It folded and the shepherd-lab stumbled. He was off balance and then slowly collapsed forward onto his side again - he was too heavy to stop his own momentum - although he didn't hit the dirt nearly as hard as the first time. I was rewarded with the sight of his legs flailing in the air as his body wobbled wildly. The shepherd-lab once again had to rise laboriously to his feet. He was growling now and didn't look so happy. I went to his face, however, and just out of biting distance began to bark at him.

I barked the words I couldn't shout. I barked my defiance of him. I barked for my lost squirrel and I barked for the times he'd stepped on me when I was smaller than him. I barked because I hated him and I didn't hate him because he was Alpha. I hated him because he was unfair.

He got to his feet again and charged me. I didn't have the space or presence of mind to move away this time because he'd kicked himself forward before he was fully up; again another thing I hadn't realized he could do watching him get slowly up the first time. He put his teeth in the loose skin of my neck, but I wasn't as immune to the biting as he was. I could feel the pricks of his canines break the skin, either because I was indeed not fat enough or because he was just biting me so much harder. He pushed me as well, chest against blubbery chest, never stopping. My feet skidded over the grass and soil, seeking purchase, but there was none to have, not against a moving mountain of inertia on four paws. My own teeth flashed, and I growled and whined, but he had me under the jaw, there was no way to get my teeth into play. I scratched at him furiously with my forepaws, but he didn't even notice. His eyes were intense in a way I'd never seen before. I'd told him that I hated him... Well he told me he hated me too as he held my neck in his teeth.

He pushed me so hard and fast that I tripped and my hind legs began to drag behind the locomotive of the shepherd-lab. It made the pressure on my neck even worse. But he didn't shake me. He might have actually killed me if he'd shaken me, I think. Instead I was dragged along the unstoppable mass of his body, and then he slammed me against the wall of canines. They were rowdy and some were barking at this point. It must have been a really good fight! Thus I felt bites to my back and my rump from the excited dogs as their champion ground me against them, but they were as love taps to the death grip the shepherd-lab had on my neck. I was only able to breath because of my extra skin and flab occupying his mouth. He threw me down like wretched waif and then lowered his chest onto me, paws over my ribs. He was so flabby, his brisket flowed over me to actually rest on the ground behind my back. And despite the fact that only a portion of his total weight was on me, I had to struggle to breath. He let go of my red stained neck then. My paws were pinned under his chest and I couldn't move. The fight was over.

My only consolation was that it wasn't as humiliating to me as it could have been. That and the fact that I'd indeed stood up and told the shepherd-lab what I thought of him as a dog and not as my Alpha. He would remember that. And whether it would ultimately be for my benefit or detriment, I was glad that I'd done so.