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One thing that remained constant throughout Sollee's life was his ability to make folk laugh. He had what you might call his two 'party pieces' .... going upstairs backwards and digging with his knees! I've already described the former, now I will tell you about the latter.
There were a few prerequisites necessary for the knee digging display. First the location had to be right. Very important this. He had to be where everyone could see him and at any gatherings in our sitting room this generally meant he would perform in the small passage behind the front door that connects the sitting room with the dining room. Second, and this was very important, was the need for silence. Any lull in the conversation was Sollee's cue to perform. He would announce his intent with a short, soft yip or two and by the time everyone had turned to see what was going on he would be well into his act.
If you study photos of Sollee you will see that he looks more like an Airedale than he does a Springer spaniel, he had the characteristic flat skull of that breed. When he was knee digging Sollee would have the top of his head almost flat on the floor. To do this meant he had to go down on his knees (a most unnatural position for a dog). Once in that position he would start to scratch (or dig) with his knees. He would dig like the Devil himself was after him, and every so often he would pause, turn his head to look at his audience, give a yip of appreciation when we laughed and then carry on with the show. He loved the laughter. Most dogs don't seem to like being laughed at, but he adored it and was ever ready to play to an audience.
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Physically Sollee looked very much like a black Airedale, but there were differences. He had spaniel ears and soft, wavy spaniel fur. The white stripe down his chest and the three white paws were also spaniel, but his bushy, bristling eye brows, white goatee beard and ginger moustache were very Airedale. He always gave the impression that somewhere, locked away inside, was a touch of Groucho Marx. There was always something about him that made you smile.
The episode of Sheila and the rotten eggs should have told me that I had taken on an inveterate scavenger. He loved carrion but having him always on a lead did enable me to curb that desire, however it didn't always prevent him from snickling up what apparently were delicious dollops of pheasant poo .... Sollee kisses were generally to be avoided!
Poo (and pee) and Sollee seemed to go hand in glove. Toileting in general always seemed to pose something of a problem for him. When he was neutered at seven months he had just got the hang of cocking his leg for a pee. It had taken him several weeks to decide which leg to cock before finally settling on his left. Then, having made that momentous decision, along came the vet and picked his pockets, leaving him not certain whether to cock or squat. This indecision over whether to cock his leg or squat bitch-style like Kiki was never really resolved. Sometimes he'd cock his leg, the next day he'd squat. On more than one occasion I witnessed him squatting with one leg cocked. To cock or squat? It was a dilemma that plagued him to the end of his days.
Which ever evacuation he needed to perform it was always desperately urgent. Probably the fact that he was a canine dustbin added to the need for urgency. Taking Sollee on a trip to my local usually meant all and sundry treating him to tasty snacks; anything from ham salad left overs (including lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber) to a vindaloo curry, he'd clean up every mouthful.... often one dish after the other.
Whatever Sollee stowed away it never upset his stomach, he was never sick (after the rotten egg episode), never had diarrhea and he never put on weight. The only food he wouldn't eat, wouldn't tolerate, was an orange. If an orange appeared in the fruit bowl he would stand across the room from it and bark until it was taken away. So, oranges aside, he ate anything and everything but apart from seeming to make him 'go' more frequently than the average dog ... it was as if he was a canine conveyor belt ... he suffered no side effects.
Sollee's toileting performances were not only frequent, they were also very often quite theatrical. I recall one occasion, whilst taking a walk through the wood, we came across a group of wild gooseberry bushes. They were weedy, straggly specimens, left over from the days of the 'big house'. It didn't surprise me that Sollee blundered through them, though I tried to guide him round. He wasn't bothered by the thorns as he paused astride a bush and performed an impromptu poo. Much relieved, he moved on leaving the bush bearing a strange crop of brown berries!
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Curiosity is something Springer spaniels have in spades. They are always on the hunt and Sollee inherited this trait with some extra thrown in. He was just plain nosy. Wherever we went he had to explore. When we visited friends they soon learned to shut doors to keep him out of every room in the property and to shut cupboard doors and drawers as well. Anything 'open' Sollee had to see what was inside it. This affliction, this inability to keep his neb out, led to one rather embarrassing (for Sollee) performance while he was still quite young. Returning from our early morning walk we were followed, at some little distance, by a young man from the village who was heading to the garage where he kept his car; he was on his way to work. Sollee had been watching him over his shoulder, almost tripping over his own paws in his eagerness not to lose sight. Turning into the farm road leading to the cottage we did, temporarily, lose sight of him and Sollee took that opportunity to cock his leg, but just has he was poised to perform he heard the young mans footfall. and desperate to get another look, my Airspring turned to stare back. He strained to get into a position where he could see but on three legs it just wasn't possible. Still peeing ... he fell over!
Not at all dignified.
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By the time he was five years old I had come to the conclusion that Sollee was a toileting oddity. As well as the events detailed above he had, in a strange squat-come-leg cocking performance, managed to do both poo and pee at the same time. And on the morning of my visit to the Motor Show, when I was up for an early start, he really did beat all. It was still dark when I took him out to relieve himself before I set off. I had my torch and we wandered round the garden until he found a suitable shrub to water. I stood patiently waiting, playing the torch beam along the tree tops. He seemed to be taking a Helluva long time over it, I thought maybe he was doing a poo as well, so let him get on with it. Eventually I got fed up, it was chilly and I hadn't got a coat on, so I shone the torch on him .... leg still cocked, he was sound asleep!
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Photo: Sollee with my Ford Anglia van during preparation for its respray.
