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Title/Headline
A Dog named Cat - in memory of "Sir" Catric von
Füllgrafshall |
A story
about the Irish Setter, a dog breed very seldom encountered in
Southern Africa.
While still living overseas many years ago, I
had two male Irish Setters and made experiences with them that I
would like to share with you in an attempt to shed some more light
on the characteristics of this superb breed.
Upholding standards for the Irish Setter's
outward appearance is best left to the experienced breeders,
although I personally wished that more recognition would be given to
the sturdier built Irish, which in my experience proved to be less
susceptible to disease and injury.
Both my dogs came from the same German kennel, which had produced a
multiple champion in the 1970s, Bento von Füllgrafshall, and both
were directly related to him, the largest and heaviest built Irish
Setter I ever came across. Much value had been placed in their
breeding on character enhancement, along with looks and hunting
qualities, which resulted in extremely intelligent, sensible and
reliable all-purpose dogs.
Living in one of Europe's largest cities and in a small one-bedroom
flat, in those days, I would have never considered bringing home a
large hunting dog, after the death of my "sausage dog" and long-time
companion since teenage years. But fate had it differently and I
landed up rescuing an adult Irish Setter, which had out-served its
purpose as a fashion statement of a rich suburban family and become
a vegetable in the process. Thanks to the paper work that came with
it, I was able to find the breeder-lady and taking her advice to
heart, I managed to turn this “something” back into a dog ... and
eventually into the most magnificent Irish Setter in looks,
character and behaviour. Most of the learning process for both of us
was triggered by Catric, or Cat for short, himself. I mainly had to
rely on my gut feel – and his then still indefinable intelligence -,
and we made progress in tiny steps at first and in leaps and bounces
later.
What Cat taught me? A lot!
First and foremost that an Irish Setter wants company, love,
attention and recognition, plenty of it, far more than the average
family dog, preferably all the time. That he accepts scolding but
only, if justified – if you make him the recipient of your own bad
mood or unjust treatment, he shows his disapproval through
indignation and in severe cases even through disobedience. This is
not a dog to lick your hand with eyes begging for forgiveness and to
crumble into submission just to be in your good books again. You
have to “apologise sincerely for your bad behaviour", make up for
your mistake, and only then will he graciously accept your peace
offer. So you’d better be a mature, well-balanced, somewhat
unconventional and rather extrovert owner of a setter to match your
dog’s character, if you don’t want to get into regular contests of
will power, which you are likely to lose in the absence of such
qualities. This relationship is not about who keeps the upper hand
and who plays second fiddle – a healthy, mentally and emotionally
sane Irish Setter will never accept second place but happily share
no. 1 with you!
Your setter is and wants to be a team player, with his own set of
responsibilities, and then he will be at his best. Shut him out of
most things you do or care little enough to let him do as he
pleases, and you will have to deal with "a child acting up". If you
can’t handle that properly either in your dog’s eyes, then be
prepared to live with constant embarrassment and aggravation. When
Catric discovered that his new home meant having far more freedom
than he was used to, he did not necessarily dare to do previously
forbidden things but he regularly initiated tests of his new
boundaries in mock fights with my partner. I was completely stunned
on finding out that this active but usually still calm and friendly
dog could be aggressive, which culminated one day in him putting his
jaws around my partner’s throat, closing them just far enough to
exert some pressure, and being flung across the room in response.
This may sound unacceptable on the dog's part, if not cruel on ours,
but from that day onward, Cat started becoming a normal dog again
and for good – perhaps this had been his only remaining chance to
finally see the light at the end of a very long dark tunnel.
On the question of space requirements of an
Irish Setter, I will contradict anybody insisting that this breed is
not at all suitable for a life in a flat. If, and this is a very big
IF, your Irish gets enough exercise, - at least two hours every day of
unrestricted movement in a vast open area, preferably in the company
of other dogs willing to play, run and join him on little mock hunts
-, he will be one of the most easy-going flat mates to have around
and not be bothered in the least by confined home space. Even the
owner of a home with a large garden will not get around giving his
Setter such daily exercise opportunities. Catric had next to no such
positive experiences when he came to me and initially went
completely berserk when unleashed outdoors. But when he realised
that going out and having fun with others had become a regular
routine in his "new" life, he happily returned from his initial
"crazy runs", which turned to normal excursions later, to go back to
our small home.
Partially knowing and partially sensing the ordeal he had been
through with the previous owner, I allowed him to put as much space
between me and him as he wanted to whenever it was safe to do so, and
welcomed him back profusely on each return. He soon learnt that I
trusted him, even when out of sight, and he to trust me being there
for him and happy to see him when he got back. Again, this was not
standard training procedure but it worked wonders with my
"Irishman".
He of course highly valued opportunities for becoming a hunting dog
again, at least for a while, in spite of being a city dweller. Nose
on the ground, chasing the occasional rabbit, mouse or bird in the
typical steady gallop of the professional hunter, Cat was "all
business" but I soon found out that he never went further after
potential prey then he had a chance to catch it (...which he never
did, not once, and perhaps not even really wanted!). He was not bred to
be a killer but a setter and quickly lost interest when the targets
took flight or vanished into underground borrows. Once the chase was
over, he happily sought me out again, approaching with a victorious,
self-assured trot and a broad grin on his face.
Those exercises in confidence, for Cat to be and feel like himself
and for me to know that this dog would return no matter what, had a
great impact on our relationship. I made the mistake only once to
change my walking direction in a dense forest without letting Catric
know, which resulted in a desperate search for each other and
fortunately a happy ending within an hour or so. This taught me that
my dog stayed in contact with me although he covered vast areas
while on the chase, by checking frequently and thus keeping track of
the direction my voice, whistling or foot steps came from. The
near-loss-experience soon made Cat conclude that it was better to
show himself occasionally to me in case I had something to tell him,
if not to verify my whereabouts through visual confirmation, when
his independent activities lasted longer than about 15 minutes. All
this brought us closer together and opened the door for some more
serious work.
With Catric already 3 years old on his arrival
and completely uneducated apart from house-trained, it was high time
for him to learn some manners. I was faced with the dilemma that he
had been made to forget about the things dogs normally do and
should be able to do but had never been taught the basics in
obedience and good behaviour. So we had to work in two opposed
directions at the same time. Since I had decided that gaining the
dog’s trust and giving him back some self-confidence was to take top
priority in the training process, we landed up having this great relationship
as described above but my dog still was a hopeless case when it came
to walking him on a leash and moving around town. However, I did not
take no for an answer and we embarked on a “city training
programme”, once the greatest frustrations were out of his system.
So we joint a small group of assorted guard dogs and their
experienced owner-handlers, who also regularly used the big park near our
living quarters for walks and some extra obedience training, in the
hope that these informal gatherings would also leave me the space to test
the success-rate of some unconventional teaching methods while still
figuring out how best to train my dog. Almost needless to say that
we quickly became the laughing stock of the group, as Cat found it
simply ridiculous that I expected him to become serious about
training
and decided to play the clown. I had to use the word “decide” here
as there was just no other explanation for his consistently
obnoxious behaviour in the presence of all those good, i.e.
well-trained examples. Okay, my boy, I thought, then it’s you and me
alone again but you are far from being let off the hook!
I made a mental note though that my dog obviously had a sense of
humour...
During the following weeks, we became an even
greater embarrassment to ourselves while doing one-on-one sessions
in the park but at least they made me aware that Cat was not
unwilling to learn – he just wanted or needed to do it differently
and in the beginning struggled with a very short concentration span,
almost like a dyslexic child. Since expert advice had gotten us
nowhere, we eventually settled for the playful route, with me taking
advantage of his natural behaviour like lying down, sitting, etc. to
associate such moves with basic commands, and him accepting that
each change of posture triggered a flood of repeated words. To my
great amazement, it worked although it had to include the occasional
pleading and begging on my part. Even more of a pleasant surprise
was that Catric eventually started showing signs that he wanted to
please me. He was on his best behaviour when I got annoyed with him
for doing the opposite of what I had asked for and pretended to be
ready to write him off as a hopeless case. Finally, we “agreed” that
he wanted to learn and that it was to be me who would decide about
the what and when while he got to decide about the how.
The breeder had warned me earlier not to break my dog’s spirit by
consequently applying the tough training procedures commonly used with other breeds. She
herself had made the mistake with one of her first dogs by having
him trained into a fully-fledged guard dog. He eventually got so
protective of her that she was forced to put him down to prevent her
grandchild getting killed. This is definitely not typical Irish
Setter behaviour but a good albeit sad example of what can happen,
if one turns such sensible souls into something they are not meant
to be by nature. As playful and fun-loving as they may be, they take
some things very seriously and may wind up overdoing them.
To cut a long story short, Cat became my
perfect dog – we eventually re-joint our private little training
group, after he had become as obedient in his more leisurely,
dignified ways as the other trainees, and I had understood that he
mainly responded as desired when I spoke to him in a casual manner
rather than giving orders. He was however very well capable of
accepting and reacting correctly in an instant when my voice became
loud and urgent in emergency situations but he always knew exactly
the difference between genuine and played ones. There was no chance
in hell to fool him, in fact, I never saw Cat become anyone's fool
ever - whenever he allowed himself to get caught up in a game of
pretend, it was on his terms and for the fun and happiness to be
shared by all involved.
He clearly wanted a partner, a mate, not a boss, with our
relationship based on mutual respect and trust. We went on both
enjoying to learn more and very different things, often initiated by
Cat himself, some of which I had never thought possible for a
Setter, let alone at his age. We spent some glorious years together,
with him being admired by almost every creature we
encountered.
Not only had Catric turned into a magnificently
looking, self-assured, happy, good-natured and extremely reliable
gentleman with almost perfect manners, which gained him the title
"Sir" Catric amongst his human fan club, but we had also managed to
turn his little funny streaks and vanities into some useful skills
in a city dog.
The most outstanding ones had to do with his need to be the centre
of attention amongst humans, which he never begged or demanded to
have met but simply commanded by his truly grand appearance, and with his
natural inclination to hold and carry things.
After about a year
with me, he loved his light loose-hanging leather necklace so much
that he searched for it and brought it back to me on his own
initiative when accidentally losing it while roaming dense bush and
tree vegetation. The leash had become redundant even in
heaviest city traffic but we still had to take it along just in case
someone insisted on using it. So when going out Catric insisted on
putting on his necklace and carrying his leash, sometimes literally
walking himself on the attached leash to the amusement of even the
staunchest dog critic. Moving about in an elegant slant with his
head proudly held high, tail slightly extended, and displaying perfect
dog-manners, Cat made sure he never missed a chance for basking in
everybody’s admiration. It made him even more proud, when I allowed
him to carry home a shopping bag, a parcel, a packed lunch or
anything else of interest to him.
All of this was usually of genuine
help to me as a dog owner without a car, as it made it much easier
to open doors, pay for our bus tickets, etc., with at least one hand
free and my dog sticking to my side without having to guide him on
the leash. That mingling with other bus and subway users became one
of Catric's favourite "hobbies" too, almost goes without saying, but
like in every other crowded situation he kept an aura of distance
around him unless encouraged by me to "socialise".
Thanks to his overall pleasant behaviour, I was by exception allowed
to bring Cat along for holidays in an Italian rest camp I visited
regularly, and he soon became everyone’s darling. He became a legend
however when he started going shopping at the on-site store every
morning, all on his own, after only a few trips together. He never
failed to hand over the plastic bag containing the money to the shop
attendant and to come back with our order of bread rolls and other
fresh food stuff as well as the correct change. Mind you, he would
have loved to eat what was in those bags but he preferred to get his
due at home, with crispy bread being the expected payment for a job well done,
which had to be accompanied by a big thank you and a big hug
otherwise he would not eat his snack.
Cat also
never took food from others without my explicit approval, and even I never managed to bribe
him with his favourite liver polony, once he had seen through a scam
or lame apology. He would just turn his head away in disgust about
such lousy human methods that were clearly an insult to his
intelligence. He was just as picky and choosy when it came to canine
ladies trying to attract his attention. I never figured out what
sometimes made him turn away in indignation from one ready to mate
in order to pursue other interests, but judged by his face it must
have had something to do with his evaluation of her inner beauty, as
physical attractiveness did not seem to matter to him. Cat truly was a dog of distinction and good taste.
Possibly his greatest achievement was that he, in
spite of all his freedom-loving nature, learnt to remain in an
assigned spot
as long as I did not revoke the command. When going into a big
department store where dogs were strictly not allowed, I left him
outside lying on the pavement next to his leash but unattached, surrounded by
human crowds and other dogs. The shopping could take any length of
time without him getting restless or leaving his place. While in
training, I secretly watched him while friends of ours or strangers
to Catric pretended that they wanted to take him away, sometimes
even using a bitch on heat to divert his attention – no chance! Cat
sometimes walked with them for a few metres but then returned to his
place, wriggling out of his necklace and making a big
performance, if those were the only ways to do so.
The ultimate test came when we met again a family member of the
previous owner, the one who had treated Catric the most friendly and
was also responsible for getting him out of the bad
circumstances …. my dog hardly honoured this person’s presence. A
brief sniff and then he turned away to sit next to me, no sign of
recognition let alone joy visible for the rest of the world. I could
however see in Catric’s eyes the contempt he felt for what those
people had once done to him and his desire to prove to me that we
belonged together beyond any doubt.
When you chose an Irish Setter as your
four-legged companion, you’d better be ready to make a life-long
commitment, one that includes leaving room for you to grow as a
person through your dog and one that means togetherness and
co-operation in everything you do. You have to be willing to
confront yourself and to make amends, as this dog will most probably
show you the best and the worst of yourself. Be very clear on having
to forget about barking commands but instead having to learn to
include the words ‘please’ and 'thank you' in your vocabulary when talking calmly to
your dog as you might hardly ever get anything constructive out of
him otherwise. He wants you to behave decent as much as you want him
to do so, and you should be prepared to take some unconventional
routes in finding mutual understanding and trust.
With an Irish Setter, it’s a two-way deal all the way, and the more
loyalty you can offer your dog, the more you will get in return.
Both Catric and his much younger nephew, Kimo, which was eventually
added to the family, awarded me richly for sparing no effort in
making and keeping them part of my daily life. Kimo even grew up to
become my perfect personal body guard without having been trained or
encouraged to take on this role. He loved his freedom even more than Catric, and it took quite some getting used to on my part to have
such an independent dog around. But he taught me a still greater
lesson in co-operation and trust, as he never failed to obey when it
counted and was always “with me” when I needed him to be. Kimo
matured much slower than the average setter, which is a late
developer anyway, as he saw much gain in remaining the baby in the
family for as long as possible, while becoming very jealous and
protective of my attention. So much so that I doubted whether it had
been a good idea to bring the youngster in while the old one was
still around. Only after Catric's departure to doggie's heaven did I
realise just how much of a team these two had become, how much of a
valuable trainer he had been to Kimo, and how much also Kimo missed
him. Almost overnight, Kimo became an adult and totally devoted
himself to me but he could not bear at all to be without company,
which he eventually paid for with his life.
In the following two decades, I had numerous
other dogs but never again an Irish Setter, as I felt that none
could ever fill the void that the departures of these two special characters had left
behind. While writing this, I realised however that the time has
come to find myself one last “other half” and to embark once more on
a journey of discovery with a four-legged companion.
Should you know about anyone selling an Irish or a Gordon Setter
privately, or if you can recommend Irish/Gordon Setter breeders based in
Southern Africa or in Europe,
please contact Email:
Info@WebITNamibia.com or phone Inge
@ Web design & optimisation Solutions (Web - doS) in Windhoek, Tel.
(061) 242431. |
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