Theory, Practice, and Learning curve
4) Theory, Practice, and Learning curve
There is this widespread, romantic notion: In an emergency, your dog will defend you. Just like that. Completely without training, driven by pure loyalty and instinct. Sure! Every dog does that. Definitely.
I think it was during my second week with Lou. A weekend night shift on mobile security patrol. Suddenly a call came in: a group of rioters was causing trouble in a casino. I stepped on the gas and headed over. Waiting on the backseat of my ancient Golf MK2 was my supposed joker. Upon arrival, I was faced with a crew of ten guys – the concentrated testosterone faction of the local nightlife scene. I marched inside. My polite request to leave the establishment was acknowledged with an appropriate level of vocabulary. The feedback ranged from detailed assumptions about my mother’s profession to creative comparisons of my humble self with human extremities. Fortunately, thanks to years of communicating on major German construction sites, I was linguistically well-prepared. My responses were appropriately diplomatic. In the end, we loudly agreed to continue the discussion outside, in front of the door.
A major tactical error on their part, I thought to myself. Because my master plan was set: Outside, I would pull my trump card out of my sleeve – or rather, out of the Golf. The ultimate K9 weapon of mass destruction. In front of the door, I marched straight across the street to my car. The group followed me and had realized by now that I was about to unleash a Belgian Malinois. Suddenly, there was dead silence on the street. The stage belonged entirely to Lou and me.
Confident of victory, I ripped the car door open, clipped the leash on, and stepped onto the sidewalk with a puffed-out chest. I locked eyes with the guys, took two decisive steps forward, and shouted with full conviction, loud and clear: “Lou, WATCH OUT!” The entire group was in a collective state of shock. Not a single peep. Ten pairs of eyes stared spellbound at the dog.
And what does Lou do? Exactly. She starts bouncing around me like a hyperactive kangaroo, wagging her tail. Her expression said unmistakably: “Whoa, awesome, boss! Look at all these people in the middle of the night! Just for us! Come on, let’s play tag, who’s got the ball?!” The scene couldn’t have been more ridiculous. Somehow, I managed to maneuver Lou and the remnants of my ego backward into the car and rescue us from the situation. It was one big, chaotic disaster.
And the learning curve? No, not every dog defends you without training. If things go wrong, an untrained Mali sees a gang of thugs as primarily one thing: a potential event group for fooling around and playing games.
