Who's in charge? Pug...mouse...or me?

Last night my friend Laura said to me "it's pretty clear who's in charge in your house." In case you're wondering, she wasn't referring to yours truly. It was the second time in less than a week that someone said this to me. So, I'm working on it. Turning over a new leaf. Getting serious. Game face.

Lets go back a few days...

Parker spent last Friday with his pug buddy Bob and his owners Martin and Cat. He's been there countless times and never had a problem, and yet on Friday, Parker peed in the apartment. First of all, way to make me feel SUPER when I come pick you up, jerk face.

Kate: "Hey, Martin! How was the day? Thanks so much for hanging with him!"
Martin: "Oh it was great, per usual. We went to the park, hung out, did some chewing. Then Parker peed on my bike."
Kate: "Excuse me? Please tell me you're kidding."
Martin: "Nope. Right here [points to bike]."
Kate: "Shit, I'm so sorry. He's been acting up lately and I'm stressed about it."
Martin: "It's cool. I yelled at him and put him on his back for a while. Yeah, he's clearly going through adolescence and trying to assert his dominance. You have to remind him that he's not the alpha. He looks at me and says 'that guy thinks he's in charge, so I'm gonna pee on his bike.'"

Does this look like the face of someone who's running the show?

Okay fine, maybe it is.

Martin has offered to take Parker for a week of boot camp. As he said, "I'll break him down and you can build him back up." This is frighteningly appealing to me.

In the meantime, another living thing has moved in with us. Mickey mouse is living in the pantry and has enjoyed such delicacies as almonds and chocolate chips, while pooping everywhere. (Jury's out on which one of those is worse.) What I haven't figured out is why Parker isn't going after him when he hears the noise. Or does he just not hear it? Bear with me for a minute -- how can Parker hear my cell phone alarm go off in the bedroom every morning while he is tucked away in his crate all the way down the hall -- and yet not hear the sound of a furry animal chomping away at almonds a mere 9 feet from his pen??? It's very unclear.

So as much as I am dreading the day when Mickey runs across the kitchen floor, I am totally down for PUG v. MOUSE. I'm taking bets...