A Dog’s Best Friend. Jan Fennell

Give a Dog a Good Name

       Why great owners don’t pigeonhole their dogs

       The Glass Half Full

       Why great owners are positive owners

       Sense and Sensibility

       Why great owners never underestimate their dogs’ instincts

       Separate Worlds

       Why great owners accept that dogs are different

       Letting Go

       The importance of knowing when to say goodbye

       In Sickness and in Health

       When their dogs grow weak, great owners grow strong

       Through Thick and Thin

       How great owners show strength for their dog’s sake

       Reaping the Rewards

       Why you only get out what you put in

       Breathing Space

       The benefits of letting a dog be itself

       A Dog’s Best Friend

       Why great owners just want to give their dogs the best

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

PREFACE

      I can’t remember a time in my life when there wasn’t a dog around and somebody trying to train him to do something. For 65 years or so, I have seen professional dog trainers work, watched amateur dog trainers work and observed as Western rancher-type people as they dealt with their canine assistants. I have seen dogs treated with profound brutality and have witnessed partnerships between dog and human that were as close as one could imagine.

      In the early 1950’s, I became acquainted with a man who produced contract dog acts as a part of professional rodeos that were conducted throughout the United States. His name was Jay Sisler and he usually had a gang of border collies with one or two retired racing greyhounds thrown in. I recall that he had a few Australian Shepherds and sometimes an Aussie crossed with a border collie.

      Jay Sisler loved his dogs and, probably more importantly, his dogs loved him. I recall times when he would work with a half a dozen dogs or so in one session. I would watch as each dog sat with eyes sparkling and feet prancing in place begging for the opportunity to be the next actor on his stage. Jay specialized in offbeat acts where dogs did things that people just didn’t expect to see.

      I remember one night in 1955 when Mr. Sisler turned up at a popular old pub-style restaurant near my university. The proprietor knew about Jay and so allowed him to bring two dogs into the saloon portion of the building. I sat and watched as this man sipped a drink at the bar and then would simply say things in a normal tone of voice that he wanted the dogs to do, and, boy, did they do it!

      Watching in utter amazement, I saw these dogs interact with one another and with patrons of the establishment. ‘Blue, go to sleep.’ he would say, and Blue would flatten himself in the middle of the saloon. ‘Freddy, take my jacket and cover Blue up. It’s going to get cold.’ And Freddy would do just that. ‘Now, Freddy, find me a pretty girl. Lead her over to have a drink with me.’ And this dog would circle the room and for all the world it seemed to me that he would pick the most attractive female, gently take her hand in his mouth and lead her to Jay’s side.

      They walked tight ropes, sat up on one another’s shoulders, the same as trapeze artists would do. They danced and sang, rode horses, and one would even lead a donkey wherever Jay asked him to go. Sisler loved to create a situation where the Sheppard types would form obstacles over which the greyhound would jump, and those greyhounds could jump the moon. People were consistently left mesmerized by the awesome feats that Jay’s dogs could perform.

      For me, it was far more how they did it than what they did. I never saw him strike a dog and I never even heard him raise his voice to one. I don’t know how he did his basic training but looking back on it with two doctorates in behavioural sciences I know how to assess that these dogs did it because they wanted to and because they loved to work with and for this man.

INTRODUCTION

      When my book The Dog Listener was first published, I had no idea it would connect with such a wide audience. It is a source of constant pride to me that so many people have turned to the compassionate communication method advocated in its pages. By rejecting the aggressive and damaging ideas of the past, they have displayed the open-mindedness and, I like to think, intelligence that instantly separates the good owner from the bad one. They have made an important first step.

      Perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned since the publication of that book (and its sequel, The Practical Dog Listener) is that people’s desire to improve the quality of the life they share with their dogs is limitless. The world, it seems, is full of owners dedicated to becoming the companions their dogs really deserve. I am always meeting people eager to deepen their knowledge still further, to develop into not just good owners but great ones.

      But what is it that makes a great owner? What are the qualities that distinguish these people from the rest? These are questions that I’m asked all the time and, if I’m honest, have often struggled to answer – to my own satisfaction at least.

      I have met all kinds of owners in the course of my life and career. A few have been awful, unfit even to own a dog in my opinion, but most have been good, caring people, genuinely interested in making their dog’s life a happy one. Along the way, it has been my good fortune to have met people whose characters and abilities have elevated them above the rest, owners who have made a lasting impact on me, and about whom I’d use the word ‘great’ without hesitation.

      It was while thinking about some of these people recently that the idea for this book was born. I had been asked for the umpteenth time what it is that makes a great owner, what separates them from the rest, when suddenly it occurred to me that if there is a simple answer to that question, then these exceptional people would be able to provide it. It struck me that if I shared their stories, explaining what they taught me and, in so doing, highlighting their strengths and qualities, then I might go a long way towards defining the kind of outstanding ownership to which so many people aspire.

      It wasn’t long before I was drawing together memories of individuals who have impressed me, not only as owners and people but also as independent thinkers. As I moved on to analyse what it was each of them gave me, so this book took shape.

      The owners who feature in these pages are a diverse bunch. Some are family members who sowed important seeds in my younger life, others are people who played a pivotal role in leading me to develop my method. Some have inspired me by example, others have helped me develop my methods or sharpen my thinking since I took my work out into the wider world. One or two have simply made me appreciate just how deep the well of human kindness runs when it comes to dogs.

      Yet, for all their differences, they share one thing in common. Each of them has – or had – a special bond with man’s best friend. And each passed on to me something valuable about the way we live with dogs. By absorbing their lessons, I hope everyone can take that next step and become not just a good owner, but a great one.

      Jan Fennell

      North Lincolnshire, Spring 2004