You spot an off-lead male trotting into the field in Yelena’s direction. You start to bristle immediately. As you watch him, you growl softly in a warning. He shows no signs of stopping. You growl louder, your eyebrows furrowing down. You look back at Yelena and Oksana talking by the fence about five yards behind you, then again at the oncoming figure. Your chin lifts as a snarl rips from your throat, and you choose to move — without a command — to intercept the new male. Your knuckles and feet dig in as you surge forward.
Suddenly, you feel Yelena’s hand grab the scruff of your neck, and she swings her legs over you like a pommel horse, using the leverage to slam the shit out of your face and chest into the soft ground.
The shock of eating dirt doesn’t quell your growl. Yelena squeezes the back of your neck again, and you finally groan softly, giving her control. You try to look back and up with one eye and watch her sign a word — “stay.” You exhale, pause, and then give the barest of nods. You relax under her still-tight hold. After a moment, she stands slowly and nudges your side with her boot, and you submit and roll to show her the barest amount of your belly while in public. Your face burns, but you feel the adrenaline spike steadily dissipate under her direction.
After a few deep breaths, you lean over to bathe her boot in soft licks and small whines. Yelena looks down at you, her head tilted, and watches you apologize.