Mighty Small

He's a mere mite of a fellow, but he
thinks he's mighty powerful. Imbued with
a classic Napoleonic Complex, though he's
no pompous little slick-haired general,
hand tucked into waist-coated uniform,
yearning to be an emperor commanding
vast dominions. No, this little fellow just
has the courage of his convictions and he
is convinced he is the vastly entitled
princeling of our modest household.

All things come to him who elaborates
his expectations, and the sturdy little
jackanapes makes it quite clear that in
the companionable relationship that arose
between canines and humans, it is the
superior intelligence of the dog that
ensures he is the leader, while the biddable
human slavishly hastens to do its bidding.

One should hasten to clarify that the
dignity of the power struggle succumbs
to the logic of inverse proportion; the more
minuscule the size of the dog, the more
assured the incomparably larger human is
assured to docile agreement to domination
by the dog. Rather Napoleonic, after all.