Deafness no impediment to Elgin 'wonder dog' earning agility ribbons

Marilou Haworth's Labrador retriever Selah was so quick to learn obedience commands and compete in agility contests that she earned the nickname “Selah the Wonder Dog.” Only after three years did Haworth discover that her four-legged star couldn't hear a thing she was saying.

And that diagnosis was first suggested by someone with a special awareness of hearing - her husband, who is deaf.

Marilou is a 72-year-old retired middle school teacher who lives in rural Elgin. She, along with outside caregivers, take care of Les who has multiple myeloma cancer, in addition to pulmonary fibrosis and dementia.

All of which makes this tale something special for Selah and the Haworths.

“Selah's story really began with another dog we had, named Max,” Marilou said. “He was a rescue dog that was already six months old when we got him and we had behavior issues with him from the get-go. At 3 years old, he got cancer and we lost him.”

So, Marilou and Les decided that instead of getting another dog whose background they did not know, their next pet would be a purebred puppy and they would take her to training classes as soon as they adopted her.

In 2010, they went to a breeder and picked out a 9-week-old female that officially was a “yellow Labrador,” but had almost pure white fur. Only later did they learn, that in some mammals, the tendency to go deaf is carried by the same gene that causes white fur.

A special pet required a special name.

Before the adoption, Marilou attended a concert by a contemporary Christian musical group named Selah. “Selah” is a Hebrew word that appears at the end of many of the Psalms.

“Nobody knows for sure what the word means,” Marilou said. “Some think it means to stop and think about the meaning of the Psalm you were just singing and carry it to your heart.”

“At first she was a wild puppy. And we didn't have any children at home for her to interact with. So we took her through puppy class three times.” That was followed by obedience class and then agility training when Selah turned 2.

“She was at the top of her class,” Marilou said. “But she would only get through about half the class before getting exhausted and then she would sleep through the rest of the day. I was afraid she might have cancer like Max had.”

Then Les noticed something. When the doorbell rang, Selah didn't start barking. When fireworks went off, it didn't bother her.

“One day we were in the yard and I started working with her on some obedience skills and she just seemed to be blowing me off,” she said. “Les called it. He said, 'I don't think she can hear you.'”

Suddenly some other things made sense. Marilou had noticed while other dogs in obedience class could be rewarded with praise - “Good girl!” - Selah seemed to respond only to food treats (especially little rolls of string cheese).

Then, when Selah was 3, they had her hearing tested. Technicians put electrodes in her ears and found no nerve activity.

But that did not mean Selah did not understand.

Marilou said Selah is simply so focused on her master's hand signals and body language that she knows when to turn right or left, when to climb up an A frame, when to crawl through a tunnel, when to jump, etc. One trainer told Marilou that “I think Selah gets a lot of it just by following your eyes.”

In addition to contests all over the Midwest, Marilou takes Selah to private lessons once a week and to workouts with the Car-Dun-Al Dog Obedience Training Club in Huntley twice a week.

Besides agility contests, Selah does “scent work,” finding a little hidden metal container containing a cotton swab that has been exposed to just a wisp of a scent such as anise, clove or myrrh. The dog gets demerits if she goes after the wrong ones, some of which hold temptations like bread, sardines - and yes, string cheese.

Marilou said she also has tried using Selah as a therapy dog but has stopped doing that for now.

“One of our few failures was a program called Read to Rover, in which a child reads to a dog and the dog listens. Selah would sit down by the kid but just look at me to ask, 'What do I do now?' She would lie there for a half-hour but would have no idea the child was reading.”

“We also visited Tower Hill Healthcare Center to visit with a man who has Alzheimer's disease and his wife, who stays with him eight hours a day.” Marilou said. “But Selah bites at the treats people in nursing homes offer, and with the caregiving I do at home every day, I'd rather not spend our time away in a nursing home.”

Still, the pair seem to give each other a sense of accomplishment.

“I'm a teacher. I love teaching and see teaching a deaf dog as a challenge,” Marilou said. “I think dogs are like humans. If you don't stimulate your brain and continue to learn, you deteriorate. Selah's brain doesn't get any stimulation from just hearing things and if I don't do anything with her, she will just lie on the couch.”