Finding a small clearing on the other side of the body of water near some trees, I knelt down at the edge of the water. I quickly began the process of skinning the goose, while Frank started a fire to heat the water for his dandelion tea. Most people think you have to spend all day plucking a bird to cook it. That’s just not true. It's much easier and cleaner to skin it completely. As I was processing and quartering the goose, I heard some rustling from the tree line followed by a low growl.

I sprang to my feet, grabbed my hammer out of the thong on my belt and prepared to face this new threat. Slowly creeping out of some brush at the base of the trees came what I first thought was a mountain lion. This confused me because you didn’t see mountain lions here in the grasslands. But then with the changes to the world in the last two days, who knew what would happen to wildlife migration patterns? As the animal came further out of the brush and into view, I could see it was actually a dog. More specifically, it was a dingo.

I could tell it was a dingo due to its ginger coloring, wide eyes and short pointed ears. Its ears were lowered and pointed backwards threateningly. Most people associate dingos with Australia, but there is also the American dingo. It’s similar to the Australian dingo as they both have the same ancestry. The American Dingo is generally smaller and more docile than their Australian counterpart, however what was coming out of the brush right now was easily the size of a Mastiff. And every bit of eighty plus pounds of solid muscle. Frank was closer to the animal than I was and started to grab for his sledge hammer. "Stop," I whispered. Don’t make any sudden movements. Just move back slowly towards me.”

As Frank moved backwards, I reached down and grabbed a leg and thigh section I had cut from the goose. After putting the hammer back in its thong on my belt, I held up my hands. Moving slowly forward, I spoke to the animal. In a soft, high pitched voice I kept saying “It’s okay, take it easy, it’s OK." I got within about fifteen feet of the animal, which I knew was too close. If the animal attacked, there was no way I’d get my hammer out fast enough to defend myself, but that wasn’t my plan.

I tossed the goose leg to within a couple feet of the dingo. The dingo paused its growling but didn’t move for a moment. Eventually, sniffing the air, the dog raised its ears and moved cautiously towards the meat. Not taking his eyes off me, the dingo picked up the meat and chewed only slightly, swallowing the whole piece. It sniffed the ground looking for more. It was then that I attempted my tame animal skill. Taking the five seconds necessary for casting, I pitted my will against the Dingo's.

Instantly, the dingo's ears fell back, and the ridge of hair on its back raised. Another low growl came from the animal, but this time it was far more menacing. I could feel the animal’s will, and the instinctual drive of an Alpha male to dominate. I changed the way I spoke to the animal. Still low, but now in a deeper voice, I continued repeating “calm.” I kept moving slowly towards the dingo, closing the gap so that if the animal attacked, there wouldn’t be a large distance for the dog to build up momentum and power. Catching a bite from a dog this size at full speed would be very detrimental to my health to say the very least.

During my K9 handling and training days, I caught hundreds of bites in a bite suit. And that’s exactly what it was, catching. You had to absorb the hit and redirect the momentum or both you and the dog could get injured. There is a point where the dog will slow down just a bit and duck its body in preparation to spring up and attack. It’s at that point that you have to feed the dog the part of the suit you want it to strike and absorb the hit.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I focused my will harder on the Dingo while concentrating on my desire for the animal to submit. I could feel the animal’s will start to break, but it was then the Dingo made one last ditch effort to overcome my will and attacked. As planned, I made it about five feet away from it and was prepared to catch the bite. I wasn’t wearing a bite suit so I knew I would take some damage by catching the bite, but I had to get the animal into a submissive position. As the dingo came up to strike, I fed it my left forearm catching the bite. I yelled at the pain, but instead of pulling away, I put that pain into my will and twisted the dingo’s momentum. Turning my body to my left, I fell on the dog, pinning it to the ground.

I widened my legs and pressed my chest down over the dog’s body, not allowing it to roll and get its legs under it. Using the fingers of my right hand as a claw, I buried my fingers in the dog's neck behind its jaw and under its ear. This action didn’t hurt the dog in any way, but mimicked the Alpha male bite. With my left arm still in the dog's jaw, I pressured the lower jaw. This forces it towards the dog’s neck. This reduced the bite pressure on my arm and I finally removed my forearm from the dog’s bite. Maintaining my body pressure on the dog and the Alpha bite on its neck, I held on as the dog desperately tried to get free.

For a few moments, I just lay there holding the dingo in this position. As time passed, for what felt like ages, the dog slowly gave in. Its growl turned into a whimper and it struggled less and less. Once the animal lay there and didn't move or fight back, I slowly removed my grip. At this point, the dog attempted to get up, but I quickly returned the pressure to its neck and body. This happened a few more times, but over the next couple of minutes, the dog finally laid there. Eventually, he stopped moving as I released the pressure. After that, I noticed flashing in the lower part of my vision. Without accessing the prompt, I could feel I had tamed the beast with my will.

I immediately got off the dog and praised him in a loud, high-pitched, childlike voice. Petting him roughly and scratching him all over while hooting and hollering and telling him over and over “good boy.” And I knew without looking that he was a boy because I could feel the alpha male will power. I knew it was vastly different from the intense feeling of a mother protecting her pups. I was also sure that if it was a female, and there were pups in the area, there was no way I’d ever be able to overcome that kind of will.

I walked over to the quartered goose and grabbed the other leg and thigh piece and brought it to my newly adopted companion. As I held out the meat, the dog started to lunge. However, I pulled the meat back and said in an even deeper voice “no.” The dog immediately stopped with its tail between its legs and waited. I stood there for a few more seconds and threw the meat to the dog. The dog instantly started eating the meat as I scratched him once again, praising him in that high pitched child-like voice. This helped further solidify my dominance over the dog. I knew from experience it would take numerous repetitions of commanding and praising the dog to train him up. The dog and I must also learn each other's sounds and body postures in different situations. That’s how a handler and their dog truly communicate. You have to do more than just train a dog. The handler must be trained to work with the dog.

I returned to the fire and cast a heal on myself. The taming took around ten minutes as far as I could tell. My mana was already back up to full but even after the heal, my HP was still down a little bit. I placed the two breast pieces and the two wings on sticks over the fire to cook. Frank also sat by the fire, stirring his dandelion tea. “That looked pretty close for a minute," Frank said. I almost grabbed my sledge and ran over to help. I have one question though.”

“What’s that?" I asked.

"Why did you have to give him my goose legs? You know how I love dark meat over white." Frank said.

With a wide grin and a chuckle, I looked at Frank and simply answered, “I know.”