The Chihuahua's incessant yipping was driving the level-headed mad. It was accelerating the misbehavior of the undisciplined and aggressive dogs in the yard. How dare the yapper direct their behavior. The Olde English Bulldog got right in her face, telling her he had permission to be out in the yard, and that she could go to hell. The Bull Terrier spat on her. Sadly, the authorities who had tried to turn a blind eye to the Chihuahua's yapping, couldn't overlook that. They collared and leashed the young terrier and took him off to the suspension room. The Staffordshire Bull Terrier was on duty in suspension. He looked at the Doberman who had brought the "kid" in. "What happened?". "He spat on the Chihuahua". The Doberman and Staffordshire Bull shared a long, exasperated look. They had seen it before. "Kid", said the Bull Terrier, "this is the second time you've reacted to her. You've gotta knock it off, in this state spitting is a criminal offense. Walk on next time kid. She's all bark". The young Bull Terrier sat down. Soon he eyed a cute poodle in the corner and the incident with the Chihuahua was long forgotten. The poodle was happy to have the attention. She'd never been sent out of the kennel before. Her parents would be livid. She'd taken off her school issue collar and gone for a glitzy hot pink one, which landed her in trouble with the Chihuahua.
Out in the Commons, The retrievers looked at the Chihuahua with disdain. "No common sense" remarked the Chocolate Brown Labrador. "Understatement" said the German Shepherd who had overheard. They turned at the bell and headed into their kennels. Puppies in each kennel needed their attention. They didn't have energy to waste. They didn't hear what the Chihuahua was saying either. They hadn't listened to her in the five years she'd been in her current position as Assistant Lead. Her hire had been meant to be temporary, to tide the kennel over during a financial recession. Things were financially set now, but it had seemed more convenient to just keep the Chihuahua rather than go through the hiring process. The old dogs knew what a mistake this was.
The Chihuahua continued to yip. Then she smiled self-righteously, looking around to see if anyone noticed. No one was around. I showed them who is in charge, she thought. She turned and walked off, time to socialize before her next round of duty.
The wise old Bernese Mountain Dog, the lead at the kennel, rounded the corner as she left the yard. She sighed. Word of the Chihuahua's mindless yapping had already reached her. She quietly followed the Chihuahua to the main office. She'd have a word with her and direct her attention from office gossip to the large pile of projects she'd left unattended over the last couple of months. It was fortunate the staff were experienced, and that most of the young pups were basically good. The Chihuahua demanded too much of her attention. Her personality just rubbed the staff and the clients the wrong way.
