Page 22 of A Snowy Escape

“I take it you don’t know that one. That’s okay.” I would normally start this type of training with her leash on, but I don’t want to make a huge thing of it in front of Abby. I stand, grab the back of Echo’s harness, and redirect her. “This is where you’re meant to be if you hear the word place.”

She sits, but doesn’t look happy about it.

“You can sit if you’d like,” I say, shrugging. “You’ll probably be more comfortable if you lie down.”

Her chocolate-brown eyes meet mine, but she fails to stretch out.

I bend over and pat the material, giving her the direct command of, “Lie down.” This time she complies, and I grin. “Good girl. Now stay.”

I keep my hands up, palm out, to signal that I don’t want her to follow.

This is the first step to giving her a safe place to return to when someone can’t be watching her nonstop.

I promised her a treat for keeping an eye on Abby, and I never break my word. She just needs to relax a little before she’s rewarded.

Echo keeps her eyes on mine, and as soon as I move to take my seat, she pops off the blanket.

“I saw that coming a mile away.” I stand, making my way back across the room. “Echo, place.”

Consistency is key.

She’ll get the hang of it.

She just needs gentle but firm guidance on how she’s supposed to act.

* * *

There’s every possibility I’m a pushy bastard.

Echo isn’t my dog.

Abby is a guest.

She might not want me interacting with Echo at all.

“I’m sorry that she’s being such a pain.” Abby peeks over her shoulder to check on her pup.

“She’s really not.” I smile. “She’s actually getting the hang of it really quickly. How old is she?”

Her face goes blank, and she stares at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “Like two. Maybe two and a half?”

My head tilts.

She doesn’t know how old her dog is?

It’s probably not that unusual for an owner to just have a rough estimate.

“Has she been spayed?”

Abby nods. “Yeah, it was done right before I moved up here.”

Was that a creepy question?

Possibly.

It’s also better to know ahead of time since Shadow hasn’t been neutered.

“Where are you from?” I ask to change the subject.