The morning felt like fall even though it's the third week of August. My dog Franky and I had just cleaned up everything in the trailer and it was time to take it to the dumpster.
   The grass was wet. I remember because my flip flops were slippery and I knew i didn't want to chase Franky if he decided to get into that, "chase me chase me" game he's been getting on.
   Franky's only four months old. His balls are getting. . . The size of grapes. Jajaja.
    We get to the dumpster really well enough and I stop to pet some horses. They're very tame and they come when you call them. Horses are beautiful animals, whenever I see one I want to glide my hand in one long stroke from head to tail. These guys don't trust me enough for that stuff.
     By this time Franky was sniffing the ground around the dumpster and I'm petting a painted stud, I think it's time to finish packing up for the big adventure I have planned.
   This is when Franky gets a little hard to deal with. I know a walk to the dumpster isn't really a challenge for him. So he's got me calling him and he wants me to chase him.
    I don't.
   "God Damn it, Franky. Comer' Frank! I swear Franky ima tie you up man!"
   Franky like to come close and then juke me into going anywhere I'm not. Such a teenager this guy. He had been listening really well all day until then.
   "C'mon Buddy. Cmon Frankindopolus!"
I point! I Beg! And then I concede to bribery. If you raised pups you know these games are difficult already depending on any given day and my mentality —-)-> we all have done this.
   But I had no treats.
   I grabbed a grocery bag, like one I keep Incase he dueces out or whatever from the truck. He comes and I grab his collar and walk him up the steps.
   I hear the sweetest voice come from behind me. She says, "Excuse me, sir. I noticed that you were having some troubles with you're puppy just now. You know, I'm a dog trainer. I could possibly help you out if you would like."
   Puzzled look in my eye. "I'm about to leave out of here in a couple days. I can't imagine how much  he could learn in two days."
    "I'm Margaret. I train show dogs and help people train their dogs."
   "Wait... You train show dogs?"
    I'm not gonna lie. At first I was hoping she really was into me. She was a few years older than I, but that didn't stop me from noticing her at all. Her hair was naturally grey a few shades whiter than mine but she kept it short. She was in loose clothing, She was athletic in build, on a tight frame. 5'6" and her personality had lots of confidence and charisma beyond measure.
  The wind blew at me and I could smell her light fragrance. She smelled clean.
   "Yes" she said, "I have trained many show dogs and Five winners! What kind of dog is he?"
    "He is a Labrador and a Brindle Boxer. He's a good puppy! I love him!"
   "Yeah? Labs and Boxers are both really intelligent breeds. He could be a fast learner."
   "What kind of dog do you have now?"
    "I have a rare dog. We don't see them here in America very often. He's an Italian Mastiff. Wanna see him?"
   Who am I to miss out on seeing a dog that's rare here in America. "Yeah! I would love to see him." And she comes back out with this brindle mastiff with its steroid using muscles. The ears were clipped and the tail was docked and this dog had the head of a lion. No joke.

This isn't her dog, but this is what he looked like.
    Just a beautiful dog only one year and a half three times the size of Franky.
   "Can I pet him?"
     "I'm gonna walk around you and Franky." She says, " you two just stay still and I'll show you some show dog traits. Franky has the potential to be a show dog."
     I don't know what kind of dog show allows mutts in it. But if she says so.
   So she does the prance thing and honestly she doesn't say so much. It's all in her hand gestures. She even shoots him with a finger gun and he drops and plays dead for her while she ties him to the bumper.
   "Okay! You can pet him now. Let me have Franky."
   So I go over to this enormous year and a half old puppy and check him out. He's very soft and muscular and petting this animal you know it could turn any time. I wouldn't know what to do if this guy did that.
   I don't know what would happen if it did and I had to punch it. I don't think a grown man punch would stop this guy. Honest.
   But he's a gentle giant.
    A scary gentle giant.
   She's walking Franky around and showing me how he could be a show dog. My Franky is just like my kid.  He listened so well to her, and acted as if I'd been training him this whole time. "See, I told you, you have a really good boy here."
    "Motherfucker never listens to me like that."
    "You don't walk him like that." She says. " I seen you this morning having a real hard time getting him to come to you. Do you think I could give you some pointers?"
    "Sure!"
    "If your dog is a puppy he should never be fed by the bowl. You should have a bag of treats or in a pocket. He will follow you off leash no matter where you are if you have a bag of goodies. You should train him like that for the first two years. After that, he'll follow you anywhere for the rest of his life."
    Wow! I've only been told this by a hundred dog owners. But never for two years. I cannot dispute this. I've been on him for two days now and he seems smarter than he really is or he is just fucking hungry.
   "Does even know his name?"
   I take a step back almost offended, "Yeah he knows his name! Franky? ... Franky!"
   "They don't really speak our language and if they don't know their name, he will never know that you're calling him." She says; "I bet you didn't know he didn't know his name? Do it with treats! See, Franky!"
   He looks up at her like she was a good goddess.
   I looked at her like she was a survivalist... she reminded me of a hotter Melissa McBride. Maybe I have it wrong. More like a hot Carol from the Walking Dead. Hell, she really pretty too but she was making me feel like I needed to look at the flowers. Just look at the flowers, Kevin.
   She was right. I didn't know. I didn't know that he didn't know.
   "That's why you haven't been able to get his attention when you're calling him. He smells all the things and he's at a concert. He doesn't even know you're calling him till he sees you. He doesn't speak your language. I bet you talk to him a lot don't you?"
  "Well, yeah. He's my buddy."
   "What if you had a girlfriend who talked to you while you were watching tv? Do you eventually tune her out? I bet you do."
    "Are you a psychic?" I said, "yeah. I get that.
   She says, "Well... he's tuned you out. Keep a pocket of goodies, Kevin. If you want to keep him off leash, you're going to have to stay on top of his interest."
   "I would bet that teaching dogs isn't the hardest thing to do at your job," I said, "I bet it's training the owners!" I laughed at my own jokes.
    "You laugh," She says, "Franky is going to be a bigger dog. He's just a puppy now and I can see that he doesn't respect you now. I've heard people say, 'oh, he's just a puppy!' Even at 6 months, 8 months, and even after a year, he's just a puppy. I have a big dog. He's my responsibility and if that little poodle down there comes up to my Chaos, and he stomps it, it's not the little dogs fault. It's always going to be the bigger dogs. As dog owners of bigger breeds, we have to know this."
    It dawns on me a memory of mine.
     I used to live in this little cottage community. It was a complex with 8 little separate one bedroom apartments. I used to try to play bass and the echos could be heard throughout the whole place.
    Little did I know, a guitar player lived four doors down. He gave lessons. A teacher. He didn't want to jam with me. He just wanted me to quiet down.
    I guess this is me learning the same lesson.
   She was way nicer than that guy was.
    "I can see that Franky is a very loving, playful, intelligent doggy, and I can see that you're passionately in love with him. You seem like you want to have the responsibility of directing his life. You can start with teaching him his name." She smiles.
    Classic... I honestly wouldn't change a thing about this feeling. Maybe this enlightenment. And this is how it feels. A knockout smile,man!jajaja.
    Somehow, with out doing it directly, she brought some light to my attention and for that I will always be grateful. I didn't even realize she was talking to me like I was a dumbass. I didn't even feel it for hours. Jajaja it was so nice, the ways she taught me to teach my dog, something that I can teach with again and again.
    I hope someday, I have the vocabulary that shows my true age. Until then, there's profanity.
   Franky is a smart dog. Her dog Chaos was very fucking awesome. Just a year and a half old. He is a show dog for sure. Anyone could see that she's put her work in with that one.
   Just to update you.
   I found myself in Bozeman, Montana. It's super rad here. It's a college town with a whole mountaineering subculture.
     My campground is free. I don't think it has a name, but it's in the forest surrounded by mountains. It's beautiful here so I'm gonna stay here for a bit.
    I don't have hook ups like sewage or electricity but I have some terrific views and the weather is very nice. I'm about twenty miles from town and when it's dark, it's fucking dark.
    The air is fresh and the clouds passing through the trees let you know just how much the mountain is blocking the wind. They have wild bears around here and cattle roaming.
   It's pretty cool to know that I don't have to use my pull outs to be completely comfortable here. No water hasn't been an issue either.

Franky is being bashful.
   Dog training is the gateway to understanding people I guess.

   My life is changing for sure. I'm loving it.
   I am glad I stayed north and that I am still able to learn things. I mean, I can learn new tricks so I'm not too old.
   Don't be afraid of leaving everything you know to learn about yourself and what you're capable of doing without any help from anyone.
     You just might surprise yourself.