His vet, and a couple of animal behaviorists, agreed that it was probably all due to Sollee's breeding, it was down to a combination of the renowned Airedale Terrier stubbornness (that's breeder talk for independence) and the famous Springer spaniel scatiness that led to his "selective deafness" when off the lead. It was not, they assured me, anything to do with my training. I had worked hard on training him from the day I got him, and as previously mentioned, he was a quick learner who lost interest once he had mastered the lesson, and no amount of re-enforcement sessions helped. From performing perfectly he would revert to the recalcitrant behaviour of an untrained pup having its first lesson. One of my brothers, a very accomplished trainer of Trials dogs (gun dog trials), had tut-tutted Sollee's breeding, saying it was a mix that should never be made, and watching my willful dog race through the wood, completely ignoring my commands, I was inclined to believe him.
I had hoped neutering Sollee at seven months old would have done more than just put the brakes on his rampant sex drive, for even at that young age he was demonstrating this contrary side of his character. I had hoped a lot less testosterone in his system would help me bring this waywardness under control, but a year on and he was wilder than ever, and it was becoming a problem.
At this time (1984), the estate where I live was still an active shooting estate and my cottage stood less than five hundred yards from the gamekeeper's release pen where several hundred pheasant poults were held from spring to late summer. I had already had one encounter with the enraged 'keeper and now he had spotted my wayward mutt circling the well stocked pen like the Apache round a wagon train. It was lucky for Sollee that it was me who caught him and not the 'keeper. I got there first and stepping in front of my dog I was surprised by how surprised he looked to see me there ... I had been shouting him loud enough to raise the dead! But he did look shocked to see me, and he came readily to have his lead attached. I rewarded him for coming to me but the 'keeper wanted to thrash him ... .
That incident led me to seek advice from my vet and the canine behaviorists. Perhaps today, thirty-two years later, I might have been given different advice and we might have brought the Wild One under control, but I was assured my training methods were fine and further perseverance was all that was called for.
So, I persevered ... .
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1985, and Sollee was almost three years old and there was no improvement in his behavior when off the lead, in fact he was worse. Walks on the lead were no problem, he didn't drag me along and he was fine when approaching and greeting other people and their dogs. He was, in truth, a great dog, but let him loose and he was away and as deaf as the proverbial post to my calls. No amount of work had helped. I could live with his not wanting to be an obedience champion and 'sit' or go 'down' on command (though he could... when he wanted to), but I was saddened by his refusal to obey off the lead. It didn't make life particularly difficult, but, as I saw it, it lessened his quality of life. All my dogs before him, Judy, Dinah, Merlin ... even grumpy-guts Kiki .... had been fine to run free; Sollee was missing out on so much.
Sad though I was over my failure to control his wild side, Sollee was, in every other way, a lovely dog. My Father, who at first sight of him had told me to, "... take him back where he came from ...", now adored him. My boyfriend adored him. Everyone adored him. He was so good natured. He was a magnet to children; one of his best friends was the toddler daughter of close family friends; she was besotted with Sollee and he with her. He would roll on the floor as soppy a hound as one could imagine while she peered in his ears, lifted his lips and polished his teeth with her fingers and generally examined every inch of him. When she was tired Sollee would sit beside her, his head on her knee, gazing at her with those big brown eyes; a dog in love.
He was a loving dog. A dog with a lot of love to give and I hoped that sharing that love with so many friends made up, in some small part, for the loss of his freedom. I took every opportunity to walk him but that boundless Airspring energy must have burned for release as we followed the lanes and paths beside the fields and woods.
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Airedale terriers were originally bred in the Aire dale in West Yorkshire to hunt otters. They are called the King of Terriers and they are the largest of the terrier family. They are recognised as being very intelligent, independent characters with a fun loving streak and Sollee certainly had that. The English Springer spaniel is the oldest spaniel, the father of all the other spaniel breeds. They are bred to hunt and flush game birds and are lively, inquisitive dogs, always alert and ready to work. Sollee certainly had that inquisitivness ... in spades!
He was a clever dog, crafty even. Kiki couldn't pull the wool over his eyes in the way she had done with Merlin; Sollee never fell for her cons, he was too busy pulling a few himself!
In his puppy days he had become very adept at slipping his collar whilst walking on the lead so I had taken the step, and not one I was happy about, of buying a check collar. I had always hated these collars, and I still do, but he wasn't a pulling dog so I reasoned that it wouldn't live up to its alternative, more popular name and become a choke collar. It was bought because I thought its more flexible fit would make it impossible for my Houdini to shake it off. I was wrong...
How the hell he managed to slip his head out of a check collar I'll never know but he did and the result nearly scared the life out of me.
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Photos: Top: Woods and fields near my home.
Bottom: Puppy Sollee with old girl Kiki.
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To learn more about the Airedale: http://dogtime.com/dog-breeds/airedale-terrier
To learn more about the English Springer spaniel: http://www.englishspringer.org/breed-about.php.
