"Okay, mister, get this all out of your system now, because starting Wednesday there will be no more of these shenanigans on walks." Only I didn't say "these shenanigans." I was talking to Stein Eriksen about his upcoming puppy classes, telling him that soon his pulling, lunging, jumping, or full-stopping would come to an end because in puppy class they would teach him how to behave like one of those angelic, majestic show dogs—in turn, making me look like the dog whisperer and best damn dog owner in all of Huntington County if not the state of Indiana. It was a nice dream. Current reality was quite different. Stein and I had been doing the same walk on our little cul-de-sac routinely since he was old enough, and we had our good times and our bad times. There were days when he got a C- on the walk for various reasons, and there were days when he got a B+. A's were rare. But we were making progress. Many times we silently walked, loose leash, and it was wond...