Incremental progress has definitely been made toward peace in the household. But it’s complicated.

Riley is clearly the center of all things.

Puddin’, our chow, has decided that she is Riley’s protector. She might as well have a jacket emblazoned “Security,” because she is always on top of what’s happening with Riley and puts herself between him and any perceived harm.

Tinker, our oldest, most frail dog, has found better living through chemistry. Living in a Xanax haze absolutely has improved the quality of her life. Unfortunately, Riley senses her weakness and has bitten her, scared her and then she attacks.

Lil He is still terrified of Riley, who browbeats him loudly every chance he gets. Those barks say “Get back up on the sofa! Now!”

The problem is that Riley is not yet three years old and he still wants to play.

Puddin‘ does not play.
Tinker is too old to play.
And since Riley has made Lil He his bitch, they can’t play either.

Little dog is between a rock and a hard place.