Aggression in gulching dogs

I may have mentioned that we live in the desert, as deep in the boonies as it was convenient to go. We don't live in a park, and our beasts are not lap dogs - though sometimes they want to be. I've read websites devoted to dog training, and much of the advice - though it might be perfectly reasonable in a dog that never leaves its yard off a leash - is laughable when applied to our life here.

In short, an overly aggressive dog in a pack is a danger to himself and others for obvious reasons, but a non-aggressive dog is, too. I want my dogs to be aggressive - to a point. There's a balance. For example, Magnus usually never questioned my authority but there was one very rare circumstance - when I wanted him out of the lair and he very much didn't want to go - in which he would turn and threaten me. This was a call for an immediate beat-down, which he accepted but didn't like at all: He usually went outside and then took his humiliation out on Fritz. Obviously if any dog tried to lord it over me, I would be obligated to force him to respect my authoritay. You can't indulge that kind of behavior at all, even once. On the other hand, when Magnus got old and no longer wanted to join the pack in enforcing its territorial claim against encroaching coyotes and cats and tourists, he essentially became useless. I still loved him - it wasn't like I was going to fire him - but he was officially retired and I no longer expected anything from him more useful than cleaning plates after a meal.

This comes to mind as I observe Little Bear. Little Bear is my first experience with a puppy, and is proving quite an education. His personality is very laid-back - so much so that for a while I wondered if he was ever going to start showing any pack aggression at all. He's over seven months old now, and has only recently begun joining the Evening Serenade in which the pack - led by Ghost these days - goes out to the ridge slope and barks at the hills or responds to a coyote pack's yipping. His usual response to any other pack member's aggression is to immediately roll over, even though he is now the biggest dog on the property except Fritz. I know that seven months is still quite young - it may be another year or more before he really takes his place in the pecking order and stops being a "puppy." He recently snapped at one of W's lady dogs when she showed interest in a bone he was chewing, and that's the first sign I've ever seen that there was anything in him but a happy-go-lucky useless eater. She backed off right away, which was interesting: Those two wrestle constantly and you'd expect her to know when he was to be taken seriously - she took him seriously that time.

I'd contrast that with teen-age rebellion, which Little Bear isn't the least bit shy about exhibiting. For quite some time now he has regarded simple commands - "no" or "come," for example - as friendly suggestions to be accepted or rejected as the mood strikes. I don't punish him for it, unless his safety is involved, but I don't take no for an answer, either. For example, he's smart enough to know that, even if enticed by a snacky, a trip to Gitmo in the morning or middle of the day means a stay in Gitmo and he doesn't like that any more than any of the other dogs. So he simply refuses, and ends up being dragged or carried. But he never offers teeth as a response. If/when he ever does, he'll get the first beating of his life. He is of course an incorrigible thief. I've lost a pair of sandals to him, and only vigilance protects my boots (and newish sandals). The other day he stole a bottle of pills belonging to The Landlady - he likes to chew plastic things (and metal things, and ceramic things, and fabric things, and earth and bone and air and water and he's probably working on fire) - and I caught him at it just as the pills spilled out. I didn't punish him for that too harshly because he did stop and give it back when I told him to.

(to be continued - it's rebar time)