‘PEDIGREE SPA’

 

Soothing classical music, perfectly balanced diets, roaring log fires, carefully planned exercise – it’s far from a dog’s life at rural Welsh retreat that is both health farm and boot camp for jaded city hounds.

 

In a quiet, lush green Carmarthenshire valley, along an improbably twisty track, stands a lemon-yellow farmhouse with geese, French hens and guinea fowl scurrying around the yard.  It’s a stunning setting and an ideal place for a holiday, somewhere to unwind from the stresses of city life. Welcome to The Dog House, a canine health farm for Britain’s most privileged pooches. It is both holiday resort and boot camp, where high energy dogs come to let down their hair and have their manners improved at the same time.  The only noise to be heard is the steady “chink chink” of builders working on an extension to the impressive farmhouse.  The first ground rule:  ‘No uncontrollable barking”.

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Owners Mark and Gillian Thompson set up The Dog House in 1997.  The farm houses over 40 dogs at a time and there is a growing waiting list for next summer.  The pressure for places is intense and the client list impressive.  Tamdhu and Talisker (Robin Cook’s Scottish Terriers).  Baron (Michel Roux’s Cocker Spaniel) and Reggie (Frank Lampard’s Bulldog) are all regulars.  The selection process is rigorous and dotting owners approach it with the same determination as parents set on getting their children into a top school.  The application form is the first challenge, ‘Where are the toys kept at home?’ And ‘Where does your dog liked to be tickled?’ requires more than one word answers if you are to stand a chance.  Then there’s the home visit, ‘We won’t take on anyone we don’t feel is truly committed’, says Gillian.  (One hopeful was politely turned away when he announced his dogs’ names:  Gucci, Armani and Versace).  Some clients enrol dogs on specific training programmes; others book them in every school holiday.  At around £350 a week isn’t cheap.

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It’s far, it’s expensive, but it’s worth everything,’ says French chef Michel Roux, owner of the Waterside Inn at Bray in Berkshire.  Every year, Roux and his Australian wife Robin spend two weeks in France and another fortnight in Australasia,’  ‘I don’t like to leave my dog and have other people look after him,’ says Roux.  ‘But when he’s going to The Dog House it’s a different matter because he’s happy to go and when he comes back he’s fit and well groomed like a new boy who has been to a very good, healthy place.’

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Once a week, a large Mercedes van emblazoned with The Dog House logo pulls on the King’s Road in London and picks up the latest batch of paying guests.  Kitted out with beds, a sink, water bowls and a sound system playing soothing classical music , the bus is as comfortable as it gets for the three and a half hour journey to Wales.  There is room for up to 18 dogs, depending on their size and temperament.  Eighty percent of clients are London based, but the van makes stops along the M4 to pick up extras.  Everyone gets out to use the facilities at Mark’s mother’s house in Wiltshire.

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Once ensconced in the Carmarthenshire valley with 350 acres of woodland to explore and lakes in which to paddle, the focus is on having fun – and good behaviour at all times.  Some of the dogs are already on sniffing terms, either they have holidayed here before or they share the same dog walker.  A handler waits, clipboard poised to take notes as the dogs come bounding into the yard.  The digs are heated chalets and regulars can request the same room.  Large umbrellas are erected in the summer and in the winter after a long walk guests can dry out in front of a large open fire.

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Aside from the setting and fresh air, the real draw is the man in charge, Mark, 43. who has a touch of Crocodile Dundee about him, has a natural infinity with dogs that is awe-inspiring to witness.  Clients talk about him in hushed tones.  The son of a Wiltshire landowner, he was brought up surrounded by animals.  Mark’s stepfather, Tim Walker, then chairman of the World Wildlife Fund, filled the estate with animals, from camels to tapirs and at that time, the largest herd of zebra in captivity in the world. ‘I absolutely loved it,’ says Mark, who is tanned and wearing a khaki Dog House shirt with rolled up sleeves, making him look more like a lion tamer than a dog trainer.  ‘I learnt an awful lot just observing and handling different species’.

 

While his siblings summered in Positano, he stayed behind for lambing.  After attending agricultural college, he moved to Wandsworth to set up in business as an events organiser.  To pay his grocery bills, he started walking dogs for friends, along with his own Springer Spaniel, Sotho.  He used to take 30 dogs for a walk – off the lead – in Richmond Park and was known as St Francis of Wandsworth.  One day the vet called and said he couldn’t believe how well behaved the dogs I walked there were.  He had a client with a German Shepherd that had been to various trainers, but was going to have to be put down if it couldn’t be sorted out.  So I took the dog and its owner out, and after a few sessions was given a large cheque.  Mark soon realised he could turn his passion for dogs into a full time job.  He went on courses run by John Rogerson, a leading canine behaviourist and hired two employees.  ‘It got to the point where I couldn’t take on any more dogs,’ he says, adding that he began to see his vocation as ‘my ticket out of London’.

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In 1994, he met Gillian, 32, an events organiser, looking for a change of career.  She took over the administrative side and the couple began to look at properties outside London.  They wanted to set up lodgings that were neither kennels nor a dog hotel.  ‘Somewhere where they could have a fantastically doggie time,’ says Gillian.  Having looked in the Home Counties, Wales was something of an after thought.  ‘We went in different directions, then met in the middle,’ Mark says.  But they loved the land so much – not a road in sight – they put in an offer without even looking at the house.  It was a risk.  ‘We had a business card printed with an 07000 number, which is redirection number, in case our clients thought Wales was too far away.’

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All their worries came to nothing. Business is booming, they have a staff of six, 40 sheep and their children (Amber, four, Hugo, two and Maximus, seven months) couldn’t be happier.  Their own dogs (Munch, a Springer Spaniel, and his son, Simbo, Socklate, a working Cocker Spaniel and Ben a Rottweiler) are in hound heaven.  

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The six week ‘companion course’ is one of the first to get booked up.  It deals with dogs who steal, turn over dustbins, pull on their lead or refuse to come when they are called.  At the end, owners are given a one to one lesson on how best to care for their pets.  Mark’s has a gentle, hands off approach.  His focus is on training owners as much as their pets.  ‘Most dogs jump at their owners and make a song and a dance when they come home.  The owner does likewise because what they feel is unconditional love.  But they are actually highlighting the loneliness of their absence possibly adding to existing separation anxieties.  If you casually walk in and don’t make eye contact with the dog until it has calmed down, then say, ‘Good boy, that’s great,’ it gets rewarded for the behaviour you want.’

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Puppies who come on the socialisation programme have their senses bombarded, but in a very controlled way,’ Mark says.  Fireworks go bang, vacuum cleaners roar and even a handler dresses up as a courier, complete with crash helmet.  The dogs visit the local pub and get to sleep in six different locations, as well as spend time on their own.  ‘The idea is to start them on the right track,’ says Mark.  ‘Some dogs only feel happy when they’re next to a human.’

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He refuses to pander to those who spoil their pets, such as the couple who fed their dog on streak form Lidgate’s, the Holland Park butcher.  Every minute of the dogs’ days is accounted for and when Mark takes ten dogs out for a walk, he doesn’t waste time looking for a lead.  The dogs head off across the fields, following a stream along the bottom of the valley.  When they reach a gate, Mark hardly raises his voice to bring them to heel.  One by one, they trot through, patiently waiting until their name is called.  In a wooded area, Mark shows a ball to Max, a handsome black Labrador, then drops it by a clump of grass.  Another 150 yards on, after several turns, he tells Max to retrieve it.  The dog shoots off and moments later returns with the ball.  Mental stimulation is as important as physical exercise,’ says Mark. 

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As well as swimming, the dogs get to test their skills on an assault course made of tractor tyres.  With all this space comes a feeling of freedom, but the dogs are under constant surveillance.  A local vet visits to check them over, while their skills – recall, walking on and off the lead, sitting on command, barking on command are closely monitored.  Mark has a reputation for being strict and no one gets off lightly, especially the owners.  For the past seven years, Jenny Halpern Prince, who runs her own London PR firm, has been sending Mickey Moo, her Golden Retriever to The Dog House.  ‘Mark is very strict,’ she says.  ‘I’ve had lessons with him on behavioural skills, I felt I was the one under surveillance, not the dog.’ The dogs are sent home with a detailed report card awarding marks for skills and including comments on their general health.  ‘A little chubby,’ reads one. ‘But Mark doesn’t mind offending the owners,’ says Gillian.  Everything he does is in the interest of the dogs.’

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On leaving The Dog House, guests are given a doggie bag, including doggie toys.  The Thompson’s are hoping to launch their own range of dog products online and in two retail outlets.  ‘We don’t want to be in every pet shop in the country because it rather dilutes the brand,’ says Gillian.  So for now, owners will have to wait for that garish souvenir.  ‘My dog went to The Dog House and all I got was a lousy T-shirt.’