When I was small I longed to have a
dog, a wish never fulfilled. There were others in a similar boat and we
competed with each other to walk the dogs of housebound old ladies. I don’t
know if we were a blessing or curse, knocking at random doors and offering to
take whatever dog they had for a walk. Sometimes we got paid, but that wasn’t
the point. Nor were we being charitable. We were dogless and desperate.
I took every kind of dog, collies,
terriers, alsatians— never a dachshund though. There’s always a line not to be
crossed. Even now I can still feel the pull of the lead, becoming an extension
of the dog pulling it.
But why wasn’t I born four or more
decades earlier, born in small Glouceshire village of Uley. Dogs? Pshaw! Those
kids played with a 200lb gorilla called John Daniels.
It was an orphan, its parents
killed by French officers in the Gabon. A sailor brought it to London, where it
ended up in the window of Derry and Thoms Department Store with a price tag of
£300. It was sold to a British Major who
gave it as a present to his sister, Alyce Cunningham.
Alyce Cunningham took its training
in hand. The animal made his own bed,
helped with the washing up and partook of afternoon tea. He was a versatile
creature at home in town and country. Alyce Cunningham dressed him as a boy
from very early on and allowed him to play with her niece and her friends.
Occasionally he accompanied her in a taxi to London Zoo, where he’d ogle the
ladies and urinate in front of male challengers. At night he was allowed three
large whiskies to ease his melancholia.
The highlight for John Daniels, was
his annual trip to Miss Cunningham’s home village of Uley in Gloucestershire
where he learned to appreciate cider, rose bushes and playing with children,
sometimes accompanying them on long walks—stopping at cottages he knew to have
cider.
Eventually John Daniels grew too
large for the aging Miss Cunningham and she sold it to Barnums circus who
dispatched it to America where it sickened and died in 1921
4 comments:
Poor gorilla. He seemed at least to have a comfortable life with Alyce, though not necessarily the healthiest.
If you still want to walk dogs, you're welcomed at my door any time. :D
Yup, consider me your official 'dog whisperer' : )
PS sorry for late reply. Hectic. Funeral tomorrow. Normality returns this weekend
I find that story very sad.
But if you still have that dog walking urge, my Sophie would be happy to accompany you...as long as you agree to her pace of stopping to sniff and pee on every third blade of grass.
Linda, that's about my pace too, though I stop at sniffing grass. :)
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