In my household, our female dogs have always been the boss. Diamond, our border collie mix, was the first alpha, always trying to herd our other dogs (or even us kids). When she passed away, Tinkerbell, our feisty Chihuahua, became the top dog (no pun intended). Tinkerbell had secretly been waiting for this moment to seize power, like a teeny tiny dictator. She reveled in her absolute power over Coco, our cairn terrier, constantly yapping in poor Coco's face when she committed the ultimate sin of trotting out the door before Her Majesty. But soon enough, Tinkerbell was once again forced to slink into the shadows by a new alpha: Luna the Great Pyrenees. 

At first, Luna was just a fat Pyr pup who was already bigger than Tinkerbell at seven weeks old. Luna paid most of her attention to Argos, who was the only dog in the house who was willing to romp with her. Tinkerbell was about 11 years old—told old for that stuff. It didn't take long for Tinkerbell to be bullied into submission by the two new rambunctious puppies of the household.  

Luna quickly established dominance over Argos. She was bigger than he was, using her weight to pin him to the ground when they play fought. Countless times a day, Argos would come running up to one of his humans for protection when he was tired of being beat up. He hid between our legs while Luna yipped and wondered why her partner in crime had suddenly disappeared.

Luna was the protector of the household: she would lay by exits and entryways, standing guard while Argos cuddled with us and lazied around. When we were outside and the dogs perceived danger (a.k.a. a car drove down the road), Luna always took the more dangerous job of running along the fence line and barking until the threat had gone away, while Argos stood close by our side.

Perhaps the most telling deviant act that Luna used to perform was when Argos was playing with the toy that Luna actually wanted. She would go find another toy, then act like it was the best, most fun toy in the whole world: she would fling it in the air, bark at it, shake it in her jaws. When Argos was sufficiently enraptured, he would, of course, abandon his toy to play with Luna's, and she would dash over to his and snatch it up, her plan having succeeded. 

Luna has retained and strengthened her alpha status over the years. Though Argos is now physically bigger, Luna has developed a cunning and manipulative mind to get what she wants. If Argos is laying on the dog bed that she wants, she will wait until one of us comes in the room, because Argos is incapable of resisting human snuggles, and silently steal the bed the second he gets up. At dinnertime, she uses her body to block access to one of the food bowls, laying down in front of it until she has eaten all she wants—only then are Tinkerbell and Argos allowed to eat from that bowl. And as for toys, we now endearingly call her "Smaug," the dragon from The Hobbit. She loves piling all the toys in the room up on her bed, like her hoard of treasures, and growling at anyone who gets near them. 

If you ever come into our household, be ready to bow down to your new benevolent and all-powerful ruler—and don't get near her toys.