I would like to announce that my dog, Brandy, has an ego.

Brandy has a rubber hotdog that squeaks. For some reason, she likes this toy more than most, although I doubt she realizes that it resembles food.
Her favorite form of playing with humans is tug-of-war, but with one, fairly small object, rather than a rope. She and the human will grasp either end of the sock, chewed up teddy bear, or what-have-you and pull until someone gives up. This is accompanied by Brandy's growling, which is usually interpreted as playful, due to her wagging tail.

Sometimes, though, the game takes a bad turn. In this instance, Brandy was in a grouchy mood, and when my father tried to take her hotdog away, she felt protective and barked at him. To compensate for my dog's asserted dominance, my dad stole the hotdog away and placed it on a high mantle, so Brandy could stare at it and punishment.

Later, when my father offered the toy back to her, she refused it haughtily.

Clearly, her ego was hurt. The dog has triumphed in refusing to submit to the man's manipulation.
In these situations, my father then must reclaim his throne with an all-powerful, resounding final statement: