Scruffy’s Story
Details have been changed to protect anonymity
The following took place decades ago, long before we had the knowledge to understand what was happening.
Scruffy was aptly named, the size of a small terrier, something approaching a Cairn. He had a light tan rough coat that appeared to grow in all directions at once. Despite being a much-loved and well-looked-after dog he had an unkempt and dishevelled appearance. He had been acquired from a shelter and had settled in as the family pet, particularly attached to the 10-year-old daughter of Mr Barr. It transpired that the two were inseparable, slept in the same room, played together and went for walks.
His owner had a strange tale to tell. Of course, nowadays, it would be recognised for what it was, but nearly 40 years ago, our knowledge didn’t extend to being able to identify what was happening.
His story went like this.
“My daughter Nancy has a mild form of epilepsy. Her fits are not bad, she is on medication, and as a result, the condition is easily managed. In fact, our lives were so good that we felt we were able to pander to her request for a dog. She has been bending our ears for ages, birthdays, Christmas, any excuse. We even bought her a bicycle for her birthday that year, but we could see it in her eyes, she was disappointed. All she wanted was a dog, so we acquiesced and got Scruffy. However, we have discovered a problem. We all love him desperately, and I have no idea how I will tell Nancy that we have to find a new home for Scruffy. She will be distraught but I have to consider her safety first and foremost.”
“You see, what appears to be happening is that when Nancy is building up to having a fit, Scruffy starts to bark and keeps going around her in circles. It’s like he knows, is that possible? I am worried that he will trip her up or, even worse, attack her. I’m now frightened to leave them alone.”
I have to admit in those days, I had no idea. I was totally baffled.
Was it possible that a dog was able to foretell it someone was about to have an epileptic seizure? It sounded outrageous.
This was something way outside my area of expertise. This was prior to the days of behaviourists. Doctors and veterinary surgeons had no knowledge of the subject. Nowadays, it is possible to Google anything, and in a trice, there is an overwhelming amount of subject material available. Not all reliable or accurate, but it is a starting point. Recently in conversation with a nine-year-old, I was informed that the time before the internet is considered to be, “The Dark Ages.” In my day we were taught that The Dark Ages were around the 5th to the 10th century. I suddenly felt very old!!
I suggested that Mr Barr left it with me. Unable to find any useful information, I was forced back on the knowledge of the day. These days it seems so simple, but back then and at any time, one can only work with what is known at that time. I have no doubt that in 50 years time, people will look back on us and think, weren’t they ignorant? How did they manage?
Canine ESP?
A certain Barbara Woodhouse was convinced that dogs were telepathic; I wasn’t sure, although my own working dog Zena showed a remarkable ability to anticipate my requirements well before the instruction was given. Having given myself the time I was ready to pass judgement. I informed Mr Barr that, in my opinion, the only explanation was that Scruffy must be able to pick up on what was happening by some sort of telepathy. Or in the same way that dogs can sense fear and our emotional state, maybe your daughter is giving off some sort of signal that something is going to happen. Maybe her body scent changes. There was no indication that Nancy was in any danger. On the contrary, Scruffy by his actions, was reducing the risk of injury by warning Nancy what was coming.
At the time, I wondered what would happen if I had got this wrong. Nancy could have been injured, Mr Barr would be suing me, and the insurance company that provided my liability insurance would probably have disowned me!!
My reasoning was reluctantly accepted, but I am aware that for many weeks Scruffy was the subject of intense scrutiny by Mr Barr. As time went by, Mr Barr relaxed and accepted that Scruffy was a very special dog, and as Nancy grew up, her epileptic fits became more infrequent and eventually became nonexistent. Had we been able to understand what was occurring, Scruffy could have been famous.
Today specialist assistance dogs are trained to provide help across a vast range of issues. They wear special coats to indicate that they are assistance dogs, thus reducing the panic to the uninitiated who are unable to decipher what is happening. Of course, Scruffy had no fancy coat, nobody understood what he could do, and he went through his life with a remarkable ability that was unrecognised, but I guess Scruffy wasn’t remotely concerned. He protected his young mistress from danger, and of course, whilst we wax lyrical about his extraordinary ability, particularly as it was a natural talent and totally untrained, to Scruffy, what he did would have been perfectly normal and not even worthy of comment.
As I reminisce, I look back with a mixture of emotions. There is a degree of sadness that I was unable to recognise and appreciate that I was in the presence of a quite extraordinary dog. By the same token, I realise that I was extremely privileged to even meet the quite unique Scruffy.
Many years later, I received a photograph. It was the day that Nancy got married. She was a stunning young woman resplendent in her wedding gown. She was holding a posy of flowers in one hand and a dog lead in the other hand. On the other end of the lead, wearing a little jacket that matched the ones worn by her pageboys, was the very elderly but obviously much loved Scruffy.
“Dog, the best friend you will ever have. A loyal, loving companion that cares more for you than himself. A special creature whose time in your heart will far outnumber its days on earth.”
Anon