Gentle Doesn’t Mean Silent: A Big Dog Teaches a Boy Boundaries

of marshmallow fluff. My entire life, my training has been centered around one word: Gentle.

“Gentle, Koda,” Sarah would coo when I took a treat. “Gentle,” she’d remind me when her son, Leo, tugged my ears with his sticky toddler fingers.

I learned that being a “Good Boy” meant being a rug. It meant absorbing chaos with a wagging tail. I thought my job continue reading …