Danny said. âEven just a simple sit.â
âDid you read the whole thing?â
âYep. It was good once you got into it. It makes sense. Itâs all obvious once you know about it.â
âWally could be a great dog,â I said.
âSure he could. You want to work on him awhile?â
Danny did most of the work, because Wallyâs strength made him a risk to knock me over. But we worked together, coaching each other and coaching Wally, too. We started with simple sit, crossing our hands in front of our waist in a slicing motion. Hand signals were important because a dog canât always hear you, or there might be a loud noise covering everything, and so we did sit about a thousand times until Wally began sitting as soon as we crossed our hands close to our belt line.
Then we made him go on our left side, and we walked in circles, stopping now and then to sit. Wally got that pretty easily, so then we did sit-stay, making him sit while we walked to the edge of the lead, waited, then called him and let him come. The first couple times he wanted to climb up Danny, but Danny was consistent and kept Wally on the ground and Wally got the knack of things readily. Despite his appearance as a kind of goofy lug, Wally seemed pretty smart to me. Father Jasper was correct: Dogs want to have some direction. Without direction they donât know how to behave, or how to get along with people, so they act every which way and get themselves into trouble. Inside of a half-hour, Wally acted more confidently, did not jump up in neediness, behaved as a companion, not a nut.
We were still working with him when Dad popped around the stockade fence.
âHey, there are the dog trainers,â he said. âOr should I say, the dog whisperers?â
âHi, Mr. Taylor,â Danny said.
Dad came over and stood, watching. I felt blood come into my face. I had to open my mouth to get enough air. I couldnât believe my dad would simply show up. It was so obvious what he was doing that it made me flush and go quiet.
âShow me what you guys have been doing,â Dad said, too cheerful. âThis dog looks a million times better.â
âClair gave me the book by Father Jasper,â Danny said. âWritten by him, I mean. He lays it all out, pretty much. Itâs not that hard once you start looking at the world from a dogâs point of view.â
âI guess not,â my dad said. âSo put him through his paces. Iâd like to see.â
Dad didnât meet my eyes. He didnât seem to want to embarrass me, but he felt he needed to be there, to check things out, or something. Maybe he simply wanted to send a message to Danny. Either way, he watched attentively while Danny put Wally through sit, sit-stay, heel. Wally performed well and Dad walked up and petted him afterward, saying, âGoodboy, goodboy, nicedog.â
âWow, thatâs some progress,â Dad said. âNice job, Clair Bear.â
I cringed. But Danny didnât seem to notice.
âWe did mostly sit stuff today,â Danny said. âTomorrow weâre going to move on to down-stay and recalls. Recalls are the toughest, because once you let this dog off a leash, he will vanish.â
âHow do you do it?â Dad asked, squatting, still petting Wally.
âYou use a long training lead. I got one today. And weâll take him over to the tennis court . . . You know, the one down in Wentworth?â
âSure.â
âClair and I figured we might go there one of these days and work on his recall. In a tennis court, he canât run too far.â
âWell, thatâs great.â
âIf you donât mind, that is. I mean, is it okay if Clair goes with me?â
My dad looked up at him. I wanted to sink into the center of the earth.
âNice of you to ask, Danny. I think itâs okay if you promise me one thing.â
âWhatâs that, Mr.
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