Simon Wooler has been a dog trainer for more than a decade (Image: Simon Wooler)
When you collect a 45kg Rottweiler with “issues” in a Peugeot soft-top and try to buckle him into a seatbelt, you soon realise that you are going to have to make some changes to your life. This was the predicament faced by former sound engineer turned dog whisperer Simon Wooler, when he decided to give Tyson one last chance at a forever home.
“People at the dog rescue centre scattered when they saw Tyson – this probably should have been a red flag, and they told me he had to be kept away from people and other animals. But I have a soft spot for the misunderstood,” says Simon, with impressive understatement.
“I was his last chance and I wanted to teach him to trust me, even if it took a lifetime.”
In fact, their bond of trust was destined to become an eight-year voyage of discovery together, and what Simon learned about Thomson – as he renamed him when he brought him to his home in Aberdeenshire – committed him to a new career.
“My own ‘unhomeable’ rescue dog led me to seek out effective training methods for troubled dogs and for the past 10 years, I have run behavioural training classes,” he says.
However, the dog that nudged Simon, 58, into the limelight, and led to his first book deal – More Than Just A Dog, which has just been published – was a very different kind of canine.
When former BBC technology correspondent Rory Cellan-Jones decided to adopt a female dog from Romania, the animal in question looked very lively in videos sent ahead of her arrival.
But when Sophie got to West London in the early hours of December 2022, she proved to be desperately anxious. She was trembling and terrified, and looked desperately vulnerable.
Her journey to confidence, with Simon’s help, has now been followed by thousands online after Rory shared his experiences on social media, following an initial shout-out for help.
The achingly apprehensive animal would cower under garden furniture, refusing to move, or disappear behind a sofa, making only brief nocturnal excursions captured on shadowy webcam.
Hearing of Rory’s predicament led Simon to contact him and his partner Diane, a Cambridge professor and economist, with an offer to help.
After a grief-stricken year, in which they had lost their much-loved dog Cabbage, the couple had thought long and hard about adopting a new dog. But when they came across the listing for “a kind girl who loves everybody and is just looking for her forever home” they decided to take her on. Little did they know how nervous she would be on arrival. Simon was willing immediately to help.
“I gave them my credentials, and got on a Zoom call,” he recalls. Following his input, the early signs were positive.
Simon during a training session with ‘Sophie from Romania’ (Image: Simon Wooler)
Within a few hours, Sophie was cautiously taking small pieces of cheese from Diane’s hand, “making positive associations between their presence and really good-tasting nibbles of food”, explains Simon. But when she prowled the darkened room and knocked over the Christmas tree, the scared little dog’s world fell in and she retreated behind the sofa.
Rory wanted Simon’s help to support Sophie, but also so he could gain his own support due to his diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. Says Simon: “Rory had a vision of long strolls that would assist with his disease, but a dog that was stuck behind the sofa was a source of anxiety, longing and hope.”
When the journalist set up his handle
@sophiefromromania, Sophie was catapulted into the limelight. Captivated by her gentle nature and cautious progress, thousands of Rory’s followers began liking his posts and offering messages of support.
The bond between trainer and dog grew even stronger when the human family went on holiday in August 2023 and Simon offered to move into their home in the meantime to look after and keep working with Sophie.
By this point, the pooch had been on the anti-anxiety Prozac for eight months – as prescribed by her vet and suggested by Simon.
“For the first four or five days I made some progress, but I would suffer huge setbacks. Harness or lead work would be going well, but the slightest hint of a sudden noise would send her scurrying back behind the sofa,” Simon recalls.
Then, one morning, came a small but significant breakthrough.
A loud noise outside the house led Sophie to sprint into the kitchen where Simon was drinking tea. Rather than cowering in the corner, she came and sat next to him.
“She was leaning in,” he says. “I dared not move. This was the most significant bonding moment we had experienced together and I was not going to squander it.”
After 30 minutes, his legs were giving way and he slid slowly down the cabinet he was leaning against and sat on the floor. Sophie responded by settling into a lie-down as Simon gently stroked her ears.
“It was now obvious that ‘training’ for harnesses or leads was going to take a back seat. The relationship was going to be front and centre,” he says.
Simon Wooler has helped dogs of all breeds and sizes (Image: Supplied)
Simon attempting harness training with Sophie at the seaside (Image: -)
From then on, whenever he went into the kitchen, he would gently roll or throw a toy as Sophie would watch.
“I started taking every opportunity to engage her in play. If she didn’t respond, I would see if she was up for a belly tickle or an ear scratch. If not, then I would just sit nearby and read and book. I became her portable ‘safe space’ by forming a safety bubble of attachment.”
When Rory and Diane returned from holiday, they found a dog who was beginning to emerge from her cocoon.
Simon encouraged them to keep building positive associations at every opportunity, casually dropping treats near Sophie and resisting the urge to coax her closer than she wished.
“If you’re holding the food in your hand, or you’ve thrown it a little too short and the dog has to stretch to reach it, they can be conflicted about risk. They will then grab the food and run for cover, away from you. Your next opportunity will come later, often much later, than if you had trusted the process.”
And so it was with Sophie. Day in, day out. In the early weeks and months, there was little chance of being able to touch her. “It was a marathon, not a sprint, but gradually she began to grow in confidence,” Simon says. Today, Sophie can leave the home and is a much more confident creature overall, although she can still be nervous.
Speaking in October, Rory said: “Today, while we now walk Sophie a couple of times a day, she remains a work in progress, still frightened by loud noises and even moderately crowded places.”
Yet, in her day-to-day routine, she is a dog transformed and no longer the same terrified sofa lurker. Now, she feels she has choices about where she could go.
“Diane’s office upstairs is a popular place, or the front room. And she is increasingly more inclined to stay in the living room when people are there,” Simon adds.
“She is broadly playful with other dogs, and doing much better with people when they have had time to get used to her.
“We seem to have an expectation that dogs will recover from fear quickly, but it’s not an expectation we have of ourselves.
“I am a big believer in giving dogs your time and eventually they will reward you with theirs.”
