What? Another of these posts about Toby the Puppy so soon after the previous one?

Sure, why not?

One of my sisters owns an 11-year-old chocolate Lab. Sophie is a sweet pooch. My wife and I love her dearly.

Sis decided to give me some advice about dog ownership, which was that “Toby is not the boss in your house. You are.”

Yep. I got it. Sophie isn’t the boss in her house, although she does get a lot of what she seeks. Yes, Sophie is spoiled. Her Aunt Kathy and I have witnessed it from time to time over the years.

Here, though, is the crux of why it’s so hard for Toby’s mother and I to grasp the idea of who’s the boss in our house. We were cat owners for more than 40 years. And those of you who have kitties in your family understand this fundamental truth: Cats rule; you cater to them; no questions asked.

When we acquired Toby nearly two years ago, we laid the law down to him. Socks and Mittens, the two kitties we had at the time, were the bosses of the house. This was their home and you — we mean Toby — had better get used to it. Indeed, both Socks and Mittens made the point abundantly clear whenever the puppy got anywhere near them. They hissed and spit at him. They swatted him.

Finally, he got the message. And, truth be told, Socks actually developed a semi-cordial tolerance toward Toby.

Well, we lost Socks a few weeks after Toby arrived. This past Feb. 29, we bid farewell to Mittens. They both were older and it was time.

Toby’s got the house to himself, except for my wife and me.

It’s a struggle with which we have to contend. Cat ownership is somewhat addictive and we learned very early in our marriage that if we were to welcome kitties into our home, it had to be on their terms.

We were proud kitty owners for too long to assert ourselves with a puppy, with whom we fell in love immediately upon his arrival into our lives.

Whatever he wants, he’s likely to get. Within reason.