Fifteen Yard Penalty!

     Jake was in the dog world, what Fabio was in mine.  His coat of ruddy soft waves and perfect
layers of feathered back legs made him a vision of the breed standard. He was the soul mate of Coach's family and I had a couple of years employment with them. Coach was the high school football coach. I was the mom of a sophomore center lineman.
     Jake was three or four years old and in prime health when we met. His back yard had been interrupted with a two swing and teeter-totter set. Jake needed more exercise than his fenced yard could accommodate. He also needed a team of wranglers to manage him on a simple leash.
     Coach and I reached a compromise. Jake was to wear a body harness for maximum control and I was to teach him how to walk on a leash.
     The retriever is a good-natured breed; often the companion of young families. They are overtly friendly and not known for aggressive behavior. He was an easy-going fellow. I never had to repeat a command. We adjusted to the new routine after a couple of mis-starts. Once the garage door opened,
seventy plus pounds of enthusiasm darted for the driveway. The rubber on the bottom of my sneakers left a trail on the concrete floor as evidence of my trying to keep him calm.
     A dog will train to the voice and gender of the trainer. If the owner is not the one training the animal, obedience may not come naturally. Thankfully, Jake was already accustomed to voice directives and we began our regimen by practicing a handful of basic commands.
      Every couple of houses, we would practice "sit", "lie down", and "come". Introducing the "heel" command confused him. Being on a leash confused him. He was used to his neighborhood and the minimal supervision he had with Coach.
      I didn't see Jake frequently, but when I was hired, we would practice twice each day. He was never allowed in my car so any idea of taking him to an enclosed park, baseball diamond or
other secured area was not an option. We walked the streets of the neighborhood. When we jogged, the narrowness of the sidewalks required us to move to the street as the curbing dipped at each driveway. Sometimes too many cars were parked fender to fender and the rear bumper of the last car seemed to always have a trailer hitch. Leashes can get tangled on them. . . I'm just saying.
     Being a football mom, I was required to know the jargon. I was required to attend all home games and most importantly remain anonymous when seated with all the other football moms. As in any sport, the moms take all the credit. You'd suspect the dads were the rowdy proud ones. Well, I'm here to set the record straight. You don't mess with a football mother.
     Coach and I had a code of mutual respect. I didn't advise him on the strategy of the I formation and he didn't interfere with my efforts to keep Jake safe.
     To keep our exercise times stimulating, I would change directions mid-block. Sometimes I would cross the street, other times I would simply reverse which was perfect for the "heel - stay" combination. We never got to the stage where I am supposed to release the leash and allow him
to respond just on verbal instructions. Having witnessed Jake's excitable stage when a cat appeared, I didn't dare separate from him.
     Our calm, predictable routine ended abruptly one afternoon. Rounding the last corner before crossing over, two dogs rushed us. They meant harm; all teeth, all muscle. They just appeared, streaking at high speed from the front of a house. Jake stopped, and then he froze and growled.
We were in a dangerous predicament and I began to scream. The owner rushed toward us, yelling
at the pair. They retreated, but not before Jake crossed the lawn. I got cussed out for trespassing!
What?  Not my fault. Not Jake's fault.
      My companion was trembling and admittedly I was wobbly in the knees. Once we felt safe to continue, I pulled out my phone and dialed Coach. I gave him the address, description of the dogs,
attitude of the dog owner, and that we were fine. I wanted to file a dangerous dog report with the local animal control. Coach asked me not to. He'd confront her.
      Future walks with Jake were always a little tense. I tried my best to forget the experience. Jake had his mind on other things. His calmness was reassuring.
      He learned to "heel".  I learned to forgive.