Chapter 28: School of Paws and Chaos
Saturday morning came with nervous anticipation—and one massive slobbery yawn.
Samba sat regally in the backseat of Jonas's car, occupying not just the seat, but the entire back half.
Her front paw was on the armrest, her back legs somehow across the floor mats, and her head? Resting on Lina's shoulder from behind.
"She thinks she's people," Lina muttered, brushing away a string of drool from her cheek.
Jonas glanced in the mirror. "Correction: she thinks she's royalty."
At the Canine Harmony Training Center, chaos was already in progress.
A frazzled woman was trying to recall her Border Collie, who had dashed halfway across the park.
A man in hiking boots was apologizing as his energetic Belgian Malinois tugged hard at his leash, nearly toppling a coffee stand. An older gentleman in a neatly ironed jacket held the leash of a tall black Standard Poodle, who calmly observed the madness like he'd seen it all before.
Samba, meanwhile, strutted into the group like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.
Lina and Jonas barely had time to greet the instructor before Samba made a dramatic plop right in the middle of the circle and began licking her own paw like a diva.
"Good morning," the trainer said, hands on hips. Her voice was kind but firm. "Welcome to Beginner's Class. I'm Karin. You'll hate me by week three and thank me by week five."
She scanned the group. "I see some familiar faces… and some dogs that look more prepared than their humans."
Her gaze landed briefly on the Border Collie, who was now pretending not to know his owner.
Karin sighed. "Rule number one: if your dog is smarter than you, congratulations—you've just enrolled in humility school."
The class laughed.
They began with basic sit-stay drills. Samba aced the first round—after Jonas bribed her with half a sausage roll.
But then came roll over.
"Oh boy," Lina whispered.
Samba plopped down, stared at them, and then made a move. A dramatic, slow-motion attempt at rolling… which resulted in her flailing all four enormous paws in the air and getting stuck halfway, like a beached baby walrus.
The class burst out laughing.
Even Karin couldn't hold in a chuckle. "We'll call that freestyle. Very creative."
The elegant black Poodle next to them executed a flawless roll. His owners—an older couple named Edith and Karl—smiled proudly.
"He was a show dog, once," Edith said, patting the Poodle's back. "Now he just shows off."
Karl leaned in, whispering to Lina and Jonas, "We're actually moving soon. Closer to our son. We might not be able to keep up with him much longer."
There was a softness in his eyes. Lina nodded gently, her hand instinctively resting on Samba's massive shoulder. She didn't say anything—but the thought lodged in her heart.
They continued through heel work, leash correction, and recall.
Samba's biggest issue was, clearly, strength—she didn't pull because she was wild, but because she forgot she wasn't the size of a medium horse.
Jonas returned from a five-meter drag with grass in his hair. "I think I pulled something."
"No," Lina said. "She pulled you. There's a difference."
Meanwhile, the Belgian Malinois was trying to climb into the treat pouch of its handler, and the German Shepherd had decided heel meant walking sideways while watching birds.
Karin clapped her hands. "Let's wrap for today! Great first class—some natural talent, some potential chaos, and lots of enthusiasm.
Homework: five minutes of focus time per day. No excuses. Even if your dog thinks roll over is a full-body flop."
Everyone laughed again.
As they left, Edith waved, her arm through Karl's. "You two make a lovely couple," she said kindly. "And that dog… she's something special."
Lina smiled. "She really is."
Samba barked at a butterfly and jumped into the car trunk by herself.
"Progress," Jonas said.
"Or strategy," Lina replied. "She knows we'll reward her with bacon bits now."
As they drove home, the windows down and Samba's ears flapping in the breeze, Lina felt her cheeks ache from smiling.
Maybe training wasn't just for dogs.
Maybe it was for hearts, too.