Betty and the Chosen One

“Is that Mr Hodson?”

“It is. How may I help?”

“You are the dog man, yes?

“I’m a trainer and behaviourist, yes.”

“Right, it’s like this, Harold and me are going to take a dog from the shelter, and we think you can help us.”

The lady was straight to the point and sounded rather elderly.

Betty and Harold

A visit was arranged, and in their immaculate terrace house, I sat down with the lady, who was Betty, and her husband, Harold.

Betty explained.

“We are thinking of taking a dog from the shelter, but we’ve never had one, but as we are now retired, we have the time to look after one properly.”

For the next two hours, I answered questions mostly from Harold. He had extensively done his homework and wanted to know the behaviour patterns of the various breeds and their suitability as a pet for retired people.

“It means making a decision, Harold,” intoned Betty.

Addressing me, Betty explained.

“My Harold is a wonderful man, but he likes to take his time making decisions. He courted me for 5 years before he proposed, and it were another three years before we were wed.”

Harold gave a sheepish grin.

Jenny, the shelter manager

We arranged to meet at the shelter, and there was a multitude of dogs to choose from. There were a variety of breeds of all shapes and sizes, plus the usual assortment of crossbreeds. It was drizzling with rain, so they were all indoors. I introduced my clients to Jenny, the shelter manager.

The place was full, even a bit overcrowded. Most kennels had more than one dog in them, and despite the best efforts of the volunteers, there was a slight aroma of urine. As we passed each kennel and witnessed the eager faces pressed against the wire, Betty stopped at each one. When we had seen every one, Betty asked if she could have another look. She indicated to Harold that he accompany her, and the pair departed for their second look. I chatted to Jenny.

Fifteen minutes later, Betty and Harold returned.

“We’ve made a decision, we have chosen one.” Exclaimed Betty.

I glanced at Harold.

Out of Betty’s vision, he spread out his palms in a message of resignation and raised his eyebrows. We followed Betty and Harold until Betty stopped and pointed at “the chosen one.”

Jenny and I exchanged glances. Jenny looked horrified. I mouthed “What’s he like?”

Jenny mouthed back. “Manic.” She also pointed to her head.

“Betty.” I said, “Don’t you think he is just a bit big and excitable? He might have you over when you are taking him for a walk.”

“Young man, I raised seven children who know their place and have eleven grandchildren who are the same, and I don’t expect to have any trouble from any dog.”

Frank

The chosen one was a very large black and tan crossbreed, very excitable, very friendly, who instantly jumped up at the kennel door.

Again, I tried to explain that the “chosen one” was far too big and powerful. Betty stood there, hands on her ample hips. The look she gave would have frozen Niagara Falls.

“Let me into his kennel, and we will see. What’s his name?”

“Frank,”  Jenny replied.

Jenny and I probably had the same thought. Surely when Betty got close, she would see that Frank was too big.

I accompanied Betty into the kennel so I was close by to intervene if the chosen one got too excitable. In a sotto voice, Betty told the dog to sit, which he did immediately.

“Put a lead on him and we can go for a walk.”

I attempted a feeble protest and was subjected to the Betty stare.

Jenny interrupted. “Betty, it’s raining.”

Betty sighed.

“Young lady, THAT is not rain!

“He is a handsome feller. It’s nice that he is called Frank, I’m a Sinatra fan myself.”

Using the same sotto voice, “Walk with me, Frank”

The two of them walked sedately past dozens of barking inmates.  Frank ignored the distractions, plus the cacophony of noise, and he just gazed at Betty with total adoration. They went outside where it was still drizzling with rain, and Frank continued to behave perfectly, never taking his eyes off Betty.

With Betty’s agreement, Jenny and I introduced two dogs into the scenario to create a distraction. Frank showed no interest and still didn’t take his eyes off Betty.

“Betty, how about we let Frank off the lead?” I suggested. Confident that when he was free, Frank would soon lose his devotion to Betty

He didn’t!!

We looked at Harold.

“All I can tell you is that the children, even though they are grown up, adore her, and that goes for the grandchildren.”

He gave a ghost of a smile. “So do I.”

We watched this rather unexpected event taking place before us with both alarm and wonderment as this pensioner who had never owned a dog in her life was able to hold the attention of a dog she had only just met.

Pear-shaped

“You will need a home check.” Said Jenny.

Betty replied. “Mr Hodson has been to my house. You can ask him your questions.”

Jenny was not happy, and it was obvious that she did not want this adoption to take place without home checks, and even then, she was concerned that allowing such a big dog to go to such an elderly couple was a recipe for disaster.

Betty had made her mind up, and as I stood unsure how to break the deadlock, she stated the obvious.

She addressed Jenny.

“You do realise that I can go and buy any dog regardless of size. I can even go and buy a Great Dane. In the local paper, there are adverts for any number of dogs that nobody wants. I can adopt any one and there is nothing to stop me; however, if you let me take Frank, I will pay for Ray to monitor his progress, and you can come as often as you want as well.”

I asked Betty to excuse us, and we went into Jenny’s office.

“Jen, you’ve got to admit this is no ordinary lady, and we both know how this works. There have probably been occasions in the past when you have let dogs go without following every edict and rule.”

“Ray, if this goes pear-shaped, I could be in a lot of trouble.”

“If there are any problems, I will take responsibility.” I glibly replied.

Having filled out all the paperwork and handed over a substantial donation, Betty and Harold left the shelter with Frank. On their way home, they stopped off at a pet shop where they purchased all the paraphernalia required when acquiring a dog—bed, bowls, toys, food, a new lead and collar and a coat for winter. The pet shop owner must have thought that Christmas had come early.

Blissful co-habitation

I would visit Betty and Harold regularly for a few weeks, but it became quite obvious that my assistance was not needed, and I bowed out. Frank had definitely landed on his paws. The couple invented games to keep him occupied, kept him supplied with activity toys, and he went for walks every day with Betty, where his behaviour continued to be exemplary.

The elderly couple and their devoted dog, Frank, continued to blissfully cohabit, and I wasn’t surprised to discover that the couple continued to donate money regularly to the shelter.

So what did Betty have that most others don’t?

Over the years, I think that I have dealt with thousands of clients, and it is very, very rare to come across someone like Betty who has never owned a dog before but can take one like Frank and, without any instruction, manage to capture the dog’s total attention.

They are, but not exclusively, usually female, confident, mature, and above all, and I stress this, quietly spoken. But they have something else that is indefinable, a presence, an authority. It certainly doesn’t come from harshness, bullying or a loud voice.

On my last visit, however, I did learn that Betty and Harold had invested in a new king-sized bed; it appears that there had not been enough room for Betty, Harold AND Frank!!