Power is a tug rope

He grabs the lead in his mouth and runs along slightly ahead,

pulling me in his wake, head turned sideways,

watching to make sure I get the joke.

He is taking me for a walk.

There is both joy and mischievousness in his turning the tables on the power in our relationship. He is laughing at me, I have no doubt. A power relationship between humans would rarely elicit such swapping of roles for the pure fun of it. He is making it clear that all along he is just going along with my idea of being in charge. And it works. I laugh and run with him, delighted at being taken for a walk by my dog. I even feel relieved. I am no longer in charge. I am squealing with wild pleasure, oblivious to the stares of strangers as we fly along the footpath. 

I think of the tug of power between people. How power can be handed from one to the other and back again. How you can give it all away or gather it all to yourself. How fluid it can be. How sometimes you just need to make sure you have turns both pulling and being pulled. It might be best not to take it too seriously.