The "Wolf Pack" I sometimes take care of is not exactly a pack any more. The old man of a Malamute passed away and it is down to the two Husky girls. They do their best to act like a pack, leaping and and singing at me as though they want to increase the amount of space they occupy. But it is not the same. The presence of the Malamute was a weighty anchor.
A long time client, who has always been mostly my job because they are nearby, will be moving out of my area this coming spring/summer. The dog and I have an easy, settled relationship. We walk the boundaries of the yard in comfortable silence, the dog watching me to see if I'll let him scoop up a mouthful of something inappropriate and me watching him to see if he might need the plastic bag that I have in my pocket. When it is time to go back in, I say Home and point at the door. He reluctantly goes in, unless he hears the child being very noisy. Then he'll lead me back.
As far as I know this dog has never been trained to this command and has no idea of what the word means - I may as well say the name of my favorite food. But somehow he has always understood my intent.
At my last visit, I saw a neighbor across the street walking his black cat along the sidewalk. He stopped and opened a side door, waiting while the cat first pretended to ignore him then dash through the door. This was obviously a well-rehearsed dance.
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