You know the feeling.
That split second when your dog's ears perk up. When they lock onto something in the distanceāa squirrel, a neighbor's cat, movement across the street. You see their body tense. You open your mouth to call their name.
And they're gone.
In that moment, training doesn't matter. Your voice doesn't reach them. Every command you've practiced dissolves under the weight of 10,000 years of instinct. They're not being disobedient. They're just being a dog.
But you're left standing there, heart pounding, watching them sprint toward danger they don't understand.