doberman

the guard to the husky's tracker — same family, opposite instincts; one dog is a question, the other an answer. raw beef tames it, and its voice sits deeper than a wolf's. what it wants from you is a job: put it on a lead and walk the bounds of your yard, and the round is drawn — two-block samples closing into a loop, or a whine of refusal if the walk never closes. the ground remembers the round; a stranger's lead never redefines someone's yard.

inside its round the dog patrols its own vertices and sits its vantages, which is to say: it does what a good yard dog does, visibly, on its own schedule. the escalation ladder, the creeper rule, and the night watch are the next courses; the feud with the magpie, the bark at the passerby, and the play-bow at a husky are on the board. where a wild one lives is still rori's to name — no natural spawn yet.