Togo Goes Free
I walked through the gate with no harness around my shoulders and no leash dangling loosely. I was probably fifteen feet into the front yard when it occurred to me — the last two seconds represented a first-time event in my life. I had never been outside in an unfenced area completely free.
As I thought about the possibility of going wherever I wanted and sniffing as long as I wanted, my heart leaped for a second and my back legs leaped a little, too. Suddenly, I was past the corner of the house with the street stretching long and wide in both directions.
That’s when I heard his voice. “Hey, Togo! Where are you going, buddy?”
As excited as I was, I was also glad to hear that calm voice. Soft and clear — just like on our walks or when we dig together in a flowerbed or when we get my dinner ready.
Daddy is my wingman. I take him on almost all of my walks. (Momma occasionally begs to be my companion. I love her. So it’s permitted. Occasionally.) Frankly, Daddy needs the exercise and me to look out for him. And Momma gives me extra treats if I keep him in shape.
I glanced back over my shoulder. Daddy had stepped about a foot outside the gate and had kneeled down.
“Come here, Buddy!” he called.
You might see scenes like this with other dogs and their people. Usually, the conversation is much more terse and direct. The dog person stands and says, “Come!” It’s really more of a command than a conversation. Those are the dogs and people who have spent time training for such a moment. And most of the time, the dog immediately goes to a previously-arranged position next to their person. Very transactional.
Or you might see a dog running in the opposite way as their person calls their name. First, asking sweetly for them to come. Then, sensing failure, the pitch of the human voice changes and they alternately beg and threaten. And most of the time, the dog keeps running happily. And — this is the fun part — the human often chases them. Very entertaining.
For me, the view of Daddy down at eye level inviting me over was compelling. While it might have been fun to have played chase for a while, I also had to consider Daddy’s advanced age and decrepitism. And I had to appreciate his kneeling down. Not all of Daddy’s parts bend and work the way they used to. I wanted to recognize his effort. You see, what Daddy and I have is special. Very relational.
I didn’t take another glance at the street. The thirty feet between Daddy and me disappeared in a second. And I was welcomed with hugs and pats. There may have been a kiss on the nose. But in the happiness of the moment, I don’t remember whose nose it was.
Some dogs may think my choice was crazy. Maybe.
Freedom of action is pretty empty without freedom of choice. Sometimes we all need to choose some boundaries. Especially if the reward keeps your wingman (or wingwoman) happy.
