"You can let go of her leash..."
Written by Sang Koh
20 feet ahead, Lola stops, waits, and looks back to see if I’m still there. I’m still here, so she keeps walking. I watch her as she confidently moves through space, occasionally stopping to take in the smells of whoever came before us. There’s an easiness to our walks together, her leading the way with grace and confidence, and me watching as I feel a sense of our shared movement. Our connection. Our oneness.
“You can let go of her leash. She’s not going to run off”, Kevin told me on one of our first walks together in the woods with Roxy 11 years ago. So with some trepidation, I drop her leash. We walk and talk, Kevin giving me a history lesson of the trail and the surrounding area. The further we walk, the calmer and more in the flow Roxy becomes. My anxiety and vigilance started to melt away, and for the first time I could feel myself letting go of my fear as I started seeing her in a new light. My fear and constant vigilance had resulted in a gap between us, but in this moment, in the safety of this place, I could let down my guard and open up to what was possible. For the first time I could experience an unfiltered love of this crazy, aggressive, fearful, neurotic, anxious, sweet, loving, big hearted dog.
When Lola stops to engross herself in the smells of the land, I continue on and I hear her running behind me to catch up and close the gap. Her paws hitting the dirt as she comes from behind is the sound of want and connection. “So this is what truly being together feels like” I think to myself. As our walk continues, we get into a rhythm and flow, and she eventually starts matching my pace stride for stride. And in this moment, I am reminded of those walks in the woods with Kevin so long ago, and I feel my heart swell as I remember his words. “You can let go of her leash” is what I heard him say. But what he was really saying was “It’s safe here. You can let go of your fear”.
Dr Martin Luther King once said “You’ve got to change a man’s heart before you can change his behavior”. Kevin understood the deep connection we share with our dogs. That they aren’t apart from us, they are a part of us. He knew that our dogs are a reflection of our own wants and desires, and to heal them we have to heal ourselves. If Kevin were still here, he might take Dr King’s quote and say something along the lines of “You’ve got to change a person’s heart before you can change their dog’s behavior”.
We lost Kevin earlier this year, and it’s left a hole in the world. He touched the lives of so many, changing the world one dog and person at a time. He was a voice of reason in a world that continues to grow increasingly unreasonable. While he never acquired the recognition that he truly deserved, what he didn’t achieve in platitudes he attained tenfold in his impact on those he touched. He may have started out focusing on how to change the dog training world, but he built and left behind something even bigger. Community. Us. He brought all of us together, and through his work we continue to connect with a shared purpose and a common want. He did for us what he’s spent his lifetime doing for dogs. Among a diverse group of people, all with individual backgrounds, coming from all walks of life, he created alignment and synergy. He changed our hearts.
I remember Kevin the man when I revisit his writings, read one of his books, or see a photo or video of him working with dogs. But it’s when I’m exploring the world with my dog Lola where I remember the essence of Kevin. The feeling of Kevin. He lives on through that connection. Through our connection. It’s why we dedicate this site to him, because it’s through him that our connections were made possible.
Thank you, Kevin.