Tinsoll was a back street dog.  Born in a little terraced house in the old part of town, he and his brothers and sisters, all squirming bundles of dark and light brown and black fur, took their first whimpering breaths in the small hours of a cold February morning in the early 1970's.  No one seemed to know who his father was but he didn't care as he snuggled up to the warmth of his mum, Zoe.

So what breed was the little bundle?  Zoe was a mongrel with, perhaps, a bit of boxer.  She was a lively, happy dog, untrained but sweet natured.  Her fur was dark, her ears slightly floppy, the type of dog to pull on the lead and jump onto your lap.  One sly day, in a secret liaison, Tinsoll and his siblings were conceived.   Who was the dark stranger? A pure bred aristocrat, or just another street mongrel?  As Zoe refused to discuss the matter, Tinsoll was registered at the vets as a labrador/collie cross!  He had his injections and yanked us out into the world on the end of his lead, a happy grin on his face!

It soon became apparent that Tinsoll had inherited his mother's energetic nature.  His switch had two positions, off and FULL ON.  He could run all day and then play hard.  He was also a master wheedler, he could wheedle into anything, one paw on the knee, another paw in the lap, a back leg waving in a cycling action 'til he could get a purchase to hoist himself up and hey presto, a large dog was on your lap! and it didn't stop there.  With a paw placed on your shoulder, you began to realise that his eventual aim was to climb on top of your head!  On one memorable occasion he got so excited when a friend came to visit, he ran up the said friend, who was sitting on the sofa and took flying leap from the top of her head!!  That's when we stopped giving him the vitamin pills!

Tinsoll was a good guard dog, with a nice deep bark.  What he would have done had he encountered a real intruder we'll never know but he always let you know when there was somebody strange about, [or not so strange come to that], and neighbours would say: "I knew there was someone about, I heard Tinsoll bark".

Whatever the facts of his ancestry, the accident of Tinsoll's birth had produced a beautiful dog with lovely glossy,  light and dark tan fur.  He had a wonderful personality, with a sweet nature, always eager to please, always ready to play.

I believe Tinsoll had a happy life but oh how much happier he would have been had we persevered more with his training, if we'd tried harder to understand him.  The mistakes we made with him were our mistakes and they were the kind of mistakes that lots of people make.  We got a lot right and Tinsoll was happy and content, so we can think of him fondly and remember the things he used to do and smile but it's always worth making that extra effort with training and obedience.  Remember, a well trained and obedient dog can go anywhere with you, he won't embarrass you but fill you with pride.