Lessons From The Leash: Chapter 1: The Dog Who Never Came Back

Blackie’s Story, and Why Recall Is Never Optional

Jun 05, 2025

Before discussing how to train a strong recall, we must talk about why it matters.

Not in theory. In real life.

Because recall isn’t about having a dog who “usually comes.”
It’s about having a dog who always does, especially when it counts most.

And sometimes, that lesson comes too late.

Blackie

My first dog was named Blackie. A black German Shepherd mix with big ears, long legs, and the kind of bounce that made her look like a cartoon when she ran. We lived in the country, where training meant little more than “She knows her name” and “She stays close, most of the time.”

Customary for a country dog, she spent her days outside, enclosed in a large fenced yard that allowed space to run around, dig, and bark at the rabbits, deer and other creatures who approached our property. Blackie was about eight months old, full of energy and always within earshot but rarely on a leash.

That’s just how it was back then.

Until the day it wasn’t.

There was a gap in the gate.
A squirrel, maybe.
A burst of adrenaline.
And then, she ran.

Down the long gravel driveway. Onto the road.

I heard the horn.
I heard the tires.
I still hear them.

There were no emergency clinics in the early '80s. No overnight surgeries. No options, really. Just pain, panic, and a hard decision made in the quiet sadness of rural life.

My father and uncle carried her gently into the field as I watched from the second-floor window with my younger siblings next to me, crying, wishing we could do something to save her.

They gave her peace, the only way they knew how. With the hunting rifle, a shovel to bury her, and a rock to mark the grave site.

Blackie didn’t come back and she never had the chance to learn how.

The Real Reason We Train Recall

I don’t tell you this to shock you.
I tell you this because it’s real.

Freedom is fragile. And dogs don’t get do-overs.

Every time I teach recall, every time I emphasize the reps, the tools, the process, it’s Blackie’s story echoing in the background. Because someone, somewhere, thinks,

“My dog always comes. I don’t need to overtrain this.”

But recall isn’t just about “usually.”
It’s about the one time that decides everything.

The one time a car comes faster than expected.
The one time a rabbit bolts across the path.
The one time your voice doesn’t carry through the wind.

We don’t train recall for the times it’s easy.
We train it for the moment it’s not.

Because every dog deserves freedom—but only when it’s backed by clarity, structure, and consistent follow-through.

Spiritual Reflection: Freedom Requires Boundaries. Love Requires Leadership.

Blackie wasn’t bad.
She wasn’t disobedient.
She just didn’t know how to come back.

And isn’t that all of us, sometimes?

We chase the thing that catches our eye. We run through the open gate without thinking. And sometimes, we don’t come back from it, at least, not unchanged.

Leadership, real leadership, offers more than control. It offers clarity.
It shows the way back. It says, “I will train you, because I love you. I will lead you, because your freedom matters.”

Freedom without boundaries isn’t freedom, it’s danger disguised as liberty.
And love without guidance isn’t love, it’s neglect with good intentions.

We train recall not just to control our dogs.
We train it to protect what we love.

A Practical Note on Building Recall

A strong recall doesn’t magically happen, it’s built with structure and intention. Before your dog can run free, they must learn to value coming back to you. That means starting on-leash, building engagement, and reinforcing the behaviour with something they truly care about, food, play, praise, or a combination.

It also means layering in tools like a long line, whistle, or remote collar for clarity and safety, especially when distractions increase. The goal isn’t just a dog who knows what “come” means, but a dog who responds even when their instincts pull them in the opposite direction. You’re not just training a cue. You’re building a habit under pressure.

Journal Prompt:

Think back to a time when your dog didn’t come when called.
What happened? How did it make you feel?
Did it change anything about how you think about training?

Now ask yourself:
What’s the story you want to tell, one year from now, about the kind of recall you built, and why?

Write it like you mean it. Your future self, and your dog, will thank you.

In chapter 2, I introduce the ‘fence fighter’ with a lesson on impulse control and breaking the cycle of reactivity.