Good Dog, Ready

I took Ready for a walk outside the fence but well away from the road. I didn’t leash him; I knew he’d come when called. We went to the garden first, where I observed Greg’s recent progress with the cultivator. Ready stuck to the perimeter; he knows he is not allowed within the garden. Then we headed to the area beyond the fence at the back of the house, which is strewn with junk of various kinds. Ready sniffed doubtfully at an old red pick-up bed, overgrown with vegetation, which obviously hasn’t moved in decades. I said, “Want to go for a ride?” He hopped right in. He seemed to bear me no ill will when I called him back out moments later; he is a good-natured dog who can take a joke.

Next we went around to the north side of the house. Twice Ready tried to cross under the Henkes’ electric fence, but I called him back sharply each time, and he came.

A good dog is a pleasure to be with, same as a well-behaved child. I am vigilant with him, but not stressed, and he is relaxed in my presence. I know he will obey me, so I can allow him some freedom. We walk in companionable silence and mutual trust.

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