Grooming
05 10 09 - 18:32"Doesn't he look lovely!"
"Hurray for German Sheperds!"
"What a stunning dog!"
Vance is getting somewhat used to basking in the glowing compliments that come his way - indeed, if his head gets much bigger I'll struggle to get his harness on. But then he really is a quite magnificent dog. His proud head, muscular legs, and classic black and tan markings really set him apart from your run-of-the-mill yellow or black Lab. These are all important aspects that directly affect the way he is perceived by pthers - but so too, I would claim, is the splendid condition of his coat - which, if you will forgive a tiny bit of imodesty - is considerably down to me.
I've never really been a great one for activities requiring a degree of patience and perseverence to get the job done. Looking after pot plants springs to mind as something I've failed miserably with on more than one occasion - usually resulting in minuiture conifers turning a rather dubious shade of brown, before dropping all their pines.
I was determined, however, to turn over a new leaf when it came to looking after Vance. Well, one might argue that I didn't have a chance if I wanted to maintain my new guiding machine in tip-top racing condition - or just keep him alive! So, feeding, spending, playing and exercising all became a vital part of my daily routine. I cannot claim to particularly enjoy getting up at 6am every day to feed Vance and give him a chance to toilet, or of having to go outside in all weathers, late in the evening, to let him to a final "busy" before bed - but they are a fair swap for having such a wonderful friend with me all the time.
There is however one activity which, though left off the list above, is of at least equal importance if I am to maintain Vance's coat in all its shining glory. I speak, obviously, of his regular grooming session.
In the grand scheme of things introduced at the beginning of my guide dog training at Barnett Hill, back in August, grooming was right up there with regular spending and obedience. Whilst the law may protect a guide dog owner's right to access any service or facility offered to the general public, the flip side of this is the need to maintain the dog in excellent condition - both in terms of health and hygene. I well remember the grooming session with Emma, where the implements of torture were handed out with considerable ceremony. First there was a "Zoom Groom" (or maybe a "Zume Groom" - I'm not entirely sure!), a strange rubber device studded with pointy pyramids. This is, used, we were told, to rough-up the dog's coat, running it against the lie of the hair. Next came a fairly standard brush, which was to be used after the zoom-groom, in the same direction, but with a certain degree of vigour, predominantly in order to tease out the dead hair, and prepare for the third and most dramatic act of all - the combing. The comb, much as you would expect, has a wooden handle and fine metal prongs, and run through the dog's fair, pulling out all the dead bits, along with anything else that might be found in there. Last of all comes the triumphant ending - wiping down the dog with a shammie leather, giving it that wonderful shine that everybody seems to find so appealing.
The first practical session was carried out on a bench positioned at the perimeter of Barnett Hill's volleyball court - perhaps on reflection a difficult choice, given the degree of potential distractions for the dogs. From the moment I began stroking the zoom groom up Vance's coat it became evidently clear that he was more interested in the buzzing flies in the flowers behind, in a ball game taking place in the field next door, and in sniifing the freshly cut grass. Well, I suppose he is a dog! So, that first session was somewhat trying, but at least it stood me in good stead for what was to come - for, if I was to learn one lesson from living with Vance, he absolutely detests being groomed!
I remember trying every possible scenario whilst still at the hotel: holding him on the lead whilst on the bench; tying him to the bench; using the makeshift grooming bench at the back of the Guide Dogs van; even doing it in the tiny bathroom of my hotel room, in order to stop Vance from wandering, whilst attempting to contain the air (though I later learnt that the poor cleaners had a job and half cleaing up after me!). Every time I thought I'd found the perfect recipe Vance would prove me wrong by ducking out the way, walking around, or fighting me off with his paws. I was, however, determined to get this right, and in those early days, to have a go at it every single day! Looking back now it seems like complete madness that I would spend a good hour of every day crouched over Vance going over every detail of his coat, quite literally with a fine tooth comb. Every day, it seemed, I found a new area untouched by the previous day's exhaustions, and every day a new way for Vance to try and evade this most hated of activities.
Things didn't improve when I went home - despite more experimentations with grooming methods, one of which involved looping Vance's lead over a bollard! The method I've settled on, however, is a little more simple, and only slightly less effective. I simply lay a plastic mat across my living room floor, keep the lead close at hand, and practice my skills in leaping from a crouched position to grab my dearest dog as he exits stage left. It is perhaps, however, a sign of my growing frustration with this aspect of our relationship, that groomings began, a little while back, to become a little more sporadic. I began waiting a day - well a groom every two days is almost the same as one every day - isn't it? And then two became three, and three became five. Grooming Vance yesterday for the first time in almost a week I rememered why I had ended up waiting so long, enduring his coat beginning to shed that little bit more, and - more crucially - attract only the occasional positive remark. Vance had become quite determined that he was no longer going to standard for this great indignity. He sqirmed and wormed, and wriggled, and ran, and was an absolute total and utter pain. Every time I went to comb behind his legs, or around his neck, or even just down his back he would stand up, roll over, or otherwise evade my attempts to pin him down. I certianly didn't settle without a fight, and became quite adept at straddling him with my legs, holding him still with my knees, whilst using one hand to feel his coat and the other one to groom - but it began to wear me down - until I snapped.
Sitting on my bed a few moments later I reflected on my actions, and what they must have taught Vance. Throwing down the comb was evidently an act of surrender - he had won and I was giving up. Calling him a "stupid dog" - something which is so obviously not true, probably told him nothing, but made me feel dreadful. Telling him to get on his bed and stay there must have left him confused, and slamming the door cannot have made him any happier about undergoing this procedure in the future. In short, I thought, I had in ten seconds sunk my chances of getting to the end of this - let along any other - grooming session. I would now be delaing with a frightened, confused dog, whilst feeling somewhat upset myself. What a fine mess you made of that one Robert.
This story does however have a happy ending. Having recorded my thoughts as an audio diary entry (to be uploaded at some point in the future) I returned rather sheepishly to the living room, made up with Vance who was quite happy to lick my hand as I sat beside him on the dog bed, an arm around his shoulder. And then he returned to the mat and sat for me beautifully, allowing me to continue this masterpiece - for at least another two minutes, before standing up, shaking himself down and dashing off to the spare room! I'm pleased to say though that I learnt my lesson and kept my cool. All these "dog-whispering" type television dog programmes, as I seem to recall, teach you one thing - it isn't the dog that is at fault, it is the owner - and I truly searched to find the behaviour that would put him at ease and allow me not only to finish the grooming session, to transform my dog back into a beautiful specimen for all to admire, but to retain his overall confidence in me. Shouting at him, calling him "stupid", or acting in an otherwise strange or abnormal way will only lead Vance to lose confidence and happiness, which will in turn have a detrimental effect on his work. I cannot afford to let that happen.
Guide Dogs talk of their clients and dogs as partners - and that is so very true. I provide Vance with all that he needs - food, water, regular trips to the toilet, an occasional free-run, a spot of grooming, stimulating conversation, Radio Four (he particularly likes the Archers ... though he doesn't have much choice on that one), an exciting workplace in which to sit under the desk, and a cuddle or two - and he gives me indepedence, freedom, dignity and companionship. There is little more I could ask of him - save, perhaps for staying still when I'm combing him - and I only hope there isn't anything else he would want of me.