ALLEN & ENDAL - the partnership : how it begun

Endal opened the washing machine with his nose, pulled out several pairs of socks, carefully dropping them into the laundry basket ready to hang on the line. Then, on command, he opened a kitchen cupboard and nosed out a packet of cereal, carrying it in his mouth to Allen in his wheelchair. Finally, he sat on the chair at the kitchen table, while Allen had breakfast, ready to 'hand' him anything if he needed it.

Four years earlier, when Endal was born, no one thought that this lonely little puppy was particularly special. If anything, he was something of a misfit since his parents, who were owned by a Southampton breeder, were father and daughter. Not realising that the bitch was still in season, they put her in with her father only to discover soon afterwards that she was pregnant. Such pregnancies can fail to develop or result in sickly or ill-formed pups. Amazingly, Endal, the only puppy in the litter, seemed perfectly normal. Even so, his owners, Barry and Sue Edwards did not know what to do with him. Unable to register him because of his parentage, they considered keeping him as a pet until a month later when Canine Partners for Independence visited to inspect another litter.

'I happened to walk into the room and saw this very pretty puppy sitting all on his own,' recalls Nina Bondarenko, programme director for CPI. 'I said, 'Hello little yellow chap, what's the matter with you?'. Then I asked if I could put him through the aptitude tests that we set dogs, to see if they would be suitable assistants for people who need help.'

These tests are a series of simple exercises to measure each dog's interest in people, co-operation, and flexibility. Nina started by placing Endal on his back to see if he licked rather than struggled. He did the former, which was a sign that he was adaptable and calm. Nina also put Endal in another room, which he didn't know so well, while she hid. The puppy sat and thought for a while and then started to search for her. This was exactly what Nina had been hoping he would do because it suggested he had initiative and wanted to be with people. Nina also gave him a spoon and then called him to her. Instead of hanging on to the spoon, he handed it over - another good sign. On the other hand, he wasn't very enthusiastic. He did some of these things rather half-heartedly as if he was saying 'Well I'll do it if you want but it is a bit of a bore.' Nina could also tell that he was sensitive and not the bravest dog in the universe; when she held him in the air, his body went rigid and he tucked his tail under. Nina's instinct (which she has learned to rely on during her 30 years experience) told her that even if Endal wasn't as keen as she hoped, he would be right one day for someone.

So the CPI bought him from the breeder Barry Edwards and found Judith Turner, a 52-year-old dog-owner to act as his puppy parent or 'foster mother'. Judith had recently lost her 12-year-old black Labrador Fennel to cancer; when the CPI rang her up, she felt ready to take on a new challenge. What she quickly realised was that Endal, whom the CPI had named after a local vet, was a one-woman dog. Although he remained aloof during training sessions at the centre, he absolutely adored Judith and would lick her all over every time he saw her - even if she'd only walked out of the room for a few seconds! Judith lost count of the number of earrings she lost as a result of Endal's enthusiastic licks, which sent them flying across the room! 'He kept me on the straight and narrow after Fennel's death and would do absolutely anything for me . However, there was one big problem. Endal hated us leaving him alone at night and would get upset when we left him in his basket downstairs. Then, by chance, we thought of leaving a nightlight on. From that night on, he slept like a baby - he'd simply been scared of the dark! We also bought him a huge pink teddy bear to cuddle up to.'

Endal quickly became adept at jobs such as finding keys and taking off Judith's jacket. But his sensitive and loving personality also shone through when he was off-duty. ' He would play with the Swallows in the field outside,' recalls Judith. ' I've never seen anything like it. They would swoop down low and he would lift up his head to them just like a Disney cartoon. When I took him to a local village concert, he tried to out-sing the chief tenor by howling above him! He also adored the smell of port. At Christmas, we came downstairs to find he had opened a bottle of port with his teeth but left it standing upright on the carpet, without having spilt one drop. He had just wanted to sniff it one more time!'

Yet as Endal continued to do his training at the centre with his former half-hearted attitude, Nina couldn't help thinking there was something missing. Somehow, despite his obvious intelligence, the dog lacked dynamism and didn't seem to sparkle. It was as though he was waiting for something or someone to happen in life in order to release his full potential. Endal was also the kind of puppy who was choosy about who he bonded with. When, as part of his training, he did a three week swap with another family to help him adapt to different environments, Endal took a while to adjust. Although he did what he was told, he also closed down and withdrew into himself. Nina began to realise that she needed to find him a full-time partner whom he could really relate to, just as he had bonded with Judith. If she couldn't find the right person, Endal would never find his full potential and for an intelligent dog, that seemed a great waste.

There was also another added complication: Endal was showing signs of going lame. ' Puppies often do this, on and off, as part of their growing process while their bones knit together,' explained Nina. ' It's known as panosteitis, like growing pains in children. But it was happening too often to Endal so we had him x-rayed. The results showed that he might have osteochondritis dessicans, a fault in the elbow joint. Some dogs get better on their own accord but others get worse and have to be operated on which would mean they wouldn't be able to work. We weren't sure with Endal. He seemed too good a dog to waste but at the same time, his future was seriously in doubt. So we decided to rest him and see what happened.'

Meanwhile, only five miles away, the future was looking even more bleak for 42 year old Allen Parton. In I99I Allen, then a weapons electronics officer in the Royal Navy, had waved goodbye to his wife Sandra and their two children Liam and Zoe, age six and five, to fight in the Gulf War. As they set off, Allen and his men had been told that I5 per cent of them wouldn't come back. But like many brave servicemen, he was certain this wouldn't apply to him. After all, he'd already served in the Falklands and Northern Ireland and come out unscathed. Why should his luck run out this time ?

But it did. Within a month of arriving, Allen's military car was smashed up in a serious accident, which shattered both his body and mind for ever. His first memory was waking up in a British hospital six weeks later and thinking, ' Where am I ?'. His right-hand side had lost all feeling and he had lost 50 per cent of his memory. The effects were catastrophic. Allen couldn't recognise family or friends, let alone remember the names for items like 'bed'. He only knew Sandra was his wife because the nurses would say 'Your wife is here'. Even more terrifying, he couldn't recall getting married or having the children. In a flash - literally - Allen had gone from a healthy father of two to an angry, wheelchair bound invalid who couldn't talk properly and whose words spilled out of his mouth in

'The fear and shock made me furious,' admits Allen. 'I refused to accept I was disabled and I'm ashamed to say that I was horrible and rude to everyone.' He was also plunged into a deep, fathomless depression from which there seemed no escape. Twice, he tried to commit suicide. It was, he told himself, the only way out.

Allen spent the next five years in hospital and rehabilitation. When he finally came home, Sandra, who had had to give up her job as a nurse to look after her husband, was at her wits' end. Then she saw an article about the CPI in a local newspaper. Desperate to do something for herself, as well as looking after Allen, she became a puppy walker to Ferdy, a yellow Labrador. The distraction and light-relief provided by a lively puppy in the house, helped the whole family - even though Allen still found it difficult to talk and communicate.

One day, in the summer of I997, Allen's usual bus for his day centre failed to turn up. Sandra told him in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't prepared to have him moping around the house. He would have to go to the CPI centre with her. Although he didn't see it then, Fate had just stepped in. Allen's life was about to change in as almost a dramatic way as his accident. But as he sat in the training centre that morning, in his wheelchair parked in the corner of the room, refusing to speak or join in, Allen didn't realise this. Instead, he would rebuff anyone who tried to ask him a question, by telling them to talk to his wife. He felt horribly self-conscious and it was easy to see why. Not only was he unable to speak clearly but his body was continually twitching. He refused to make eye contact with anyone but was very self-conscious and uncomfortable.

Not far away from his chair, sat a group of puppies, resting in between training sessions. One of them happened to be Endal. ' He started looking at Allen and, as he did so, Allen glanced back,' said Nina who is constantly observing dogs and thinking about the applicants to see if they might fit. "Endal then looked up again and seemed to say ' Mmm, I quite like you' and then Allen put his hand down to give him a pat. Immediately, Endal leaped up on Allen's lap and gave a big slobbery grin. Allen smiled as though to say ,' This dog really likes me !'. Then, almost without knowing why he was doing it, Allen began to rub Endal under his jacket. It so happens that Endal LOVES being rubbed at exactly that spot. He looked up at Allen as if to say ' You are my man!' "

It was nothing short of a miracle; a dramatic turning point which both Allen and Endal had needed so badly in their lives. And it sent, says Nina, a tingle down her spine. As Allen left the centre that day, there was a certain sparkle in his eyes, which hadn't been there for a very long time. He could hardly wait until the next week when Endal was coming back to the centre with his puppy walker. Allen made sure that he was there too and over the next few weeks, Endal made a beeline for him as soon as he came in through the door. The two would sit next to each other and Endal would reach out and touch him with his paw. As Nina point out, until he met Allen, Endal hadn't been anything special. It was the combination of his character with Allen's that made the winning ticket. Two parts really are greater than the whole.

Just as Endal had helped Judith through her bereavement, so it seemed that Endal wanted to now help Allen. Even so, it wouldn't have been right for Nina to have suggested that Allen and Endal were partnered immediately. She had to wait until Allen applied for a dog himself.

It took nearly five months for the assessment procedures and paperwork to go through.' I had to fill in a form, describing my disabilities and this was the first time I had admitted there was something wrong with me,' recalls Allen. 'It was a cathartic experience, which finally gave me the hope I needed. Until I met him, I was in the depths of despair. But when he refused to leave my side in that training centre, I suddenly saw a chink of light. Endal had found me and wasn't going to let me go. He was living proof that angels don't just come on two legs.'

But before Allen could take Endal home, he had to go through an intensive two-week residential training course. During that time, Nina noticed a dramatic change in Endal's behaviour. ' Instead of doing jobs half-heartedly, he'd leap to it! Keys, he'd say, you want me to get keys? Great. Hang on and I'll run and get them. Before, when someone else was asking him to do it, he'd amble over to the keys and back again without any great incentive. In return, he seemed to understand how much Allen had been through. He's an interesting combination of pushiness and sensitivity.'

Endal's most amazing skill is his ability to use his initiative and read situations quickly. This was exactly what Allen needed to help him cope with his severe injuries. Would Endal be able to help? They would soon find out when he joined the Parton household full-time in autumn I997. Still unable to speak properly, Allen also suffered from word blindness when he simply couldn't find the words to give Endal a command. ' One morning, I realised I'd left my razor upstairs. I could see a picture of the razor in my head but couldn't think of the word. So I just patted my cheeks in an attempt to understand. To my amazement, he ran up the stairs and came down with it in its leather case. '

Over the ensuing months, Allen and Endal began to create their own sign language. A pat on the head means that Allen wants his cap. Instantly, Endal darts round to the back of the wheelchair where the cap is inside Allen's bag. Hands held up mean gloves are required and Endal finds them and brings them round the front to Allen.

Allen and Endal began to be photographed by local newspapers, and then, as they grew in confidence, they were nominated for an award in a national competition run by Dogs Today magazine.

During one photographic session, Endal and Allen went shopping at the local supermarket to show how Endal could differentiate between 'tins' and 'bottles' and nose out whatever Allen asked for on the shelves, such as a loaf of bread.

As they were leaving, Allen realised he needed money from the cash machine outside. With the sunlight shining on the glass screen , making it difficult for Allen to see, and with the money and receipt slot set far up the back of the machine, Allen was struggling. Suddenly, without being asked, Endal jumped up to retrieve the card and money when Allen had made his transaction.

Newspaper photographers asked him to do it again and again so they could get their pictures. This was the photograph that was used when Endal was voted Dog of the Millennium in the Dogs Today competition. The result was Endal, splashed over nearly every front page. The press went wild and reporters from around the world wanted to know about this extraordinary dog. He was filmed by crews almost daily. People started to recognise the yellow Labrador as "Endal the Cashpoint Dog".

But the most amazing example of Endal's initiative happened in May 2001 when the pair were invited to a stand at Crufts. After checking into the hotel the night before, Allen took Endal outside for a run across a green on the other side of the hotel car park. As usual his lead was clipped to the chair. Suddenly a Ford car reversed towards them at 40 mph. Endal was between Allen and the car so, instinctively, he pushed the dog out of the way.

Seconds later, the car knocked the chair over and Allen blacked out.

When he came round, he found Endal pulling his body over, using his teeth on his jacket, to put Allen into the recovery position.

The dog then ran back for his mobile phone, which he got out of the bag, and thrust against his face.

After that, he went back for his blanket from the chair and then ran up to the hotel reception, barking for help.

The story hit the national headlines. Endal, it appeared, was the first dog who had ever put a human into the recovery position without being taught. Once again, he was a familiar face on the television and in the news. Everyone wanted footage of this remarkable dog. But the fame came at a price. Endal had overstretched himself by jumping up at the cashpoint so many times. And the following day he went severely lame during a fund-raising event.