THIS BOOK IS a memoir of my time at Battersea Dogs Home,where I worked from February 1988 to September 2004. Anyviews expressed in this book are mine alone, based on my ownexperiences and recollections of that period and do not necessarilyrepresent the views of the organisation. The experiencesand characters are true to my memory and are written with loveand affection. No one asks to be immortalised in print and Ihope I have done them justice but if I have fallen short, I askfor their forbearance.
I have fond memories and great admiration for the workBattersea does. I understand that since I have left, the organisationcontinues to evolve transforming itself into themodern, professional organisation it is today.
Preface
Every Dog Has Its Day
WHERE ELSE IN the world would you go to work and find yourfirst customer to be a singer who has performed to millions? Heis looking for a mongrel to complement his existing femaleBorder terriers. It has to be a boy as his two can be rather 'bitchy'around other girls.
Your next customer is Bill Turner, a pensioner from the localcouncil estate. He has no family and is desperately lonely after hisageing Staffordshire bull terrier recently died. He is a big bloke,a real Londoner and is embarrassed to find himself sobbing.
Your third customer has big brown eyes, beautiful honey-colouredfur and 40 per cent burns to her body. Her previousowner doused her in boiling water because she urinated in thehouse after being locked up all day. You take her to meet hernew owner. She gives her very best sit. Today is the first day ofthe rest of her life.
Your fourth customer is the Canadian ambassador. He andhis wife had to leave their beloved Labrador behind when theymoved to London. The void she leaves is enormous and desperatelyneeds to be filled. They are potty about dogs and will takeanything, but ask for one that won't bite visiting dignitaries.
You grab a quick bite to eat for lunch.
You return to find socialite Jemima Khan waiting patientlyto see you. She has been brought up with dogs and wants hertwo young sons to inherit her passion. The youngest, however,seems more interested in eating the dog treats.
Your next customer is 12 weeks old, loves squeaky toysand is petrified of men. You introduce him to his new ownerand hope she will help him forget the cruelty bestowed uponhim by his previous master.
Next in line is a fellow down on his luck and with no fixedabode. He looks around at the dogs and vows to come backwhen he has found somewhere to call home. He says hecannot live without a dog in his life; they are the only realfriends he has ever had.
Your eighth customer of the day is a feisty little chihuahuawho was given up for being overly amorous towards the cat.He is meeting his new owners and their Irish wolfhound today.This embarrassing little problem is not expected to reoccur.
You end your day in a rather surreal fashion, sitting oppositeHollywood actor Kevin Spacey, who explains that he justadores dogs. He has relocated to the UK and would like to fillhis home with at least four or five.
So where is this unique place? Exactly what kind of establishmentsees such a broad spectrum of the human race, all ina day's work?
It is Battersea Dogs Home, the oldest and most famousdogs' home in the world.
I was lucky enough to work at Battersea for 15 years andit was there I learned that possessing a passion for dogs canbreak down barriers and unite people from all social backgrounds,races, religions and income brackets like nothing else.
Every day Battersea received an assortment of four-leggedsthrough its door. They included pedigrees and non pedigrees,all different colours, shapes, sizes and temperaments, muchlike the myriad of two-leggeds who kindly came to open theirhearts and homes to one lucky hound.
A nation of animal lovers we may be but in juxtapositionto the compassion and generosity that surrounded me on adaily basis were 500 dogs, abandoned and bewildered.
THIS BOOK CELEBRATES the dogs sometimes damagedbeyond belief that came through Battersea's door, the staffthat mended them and the customers whose lives theyenhanced and, in some cases, even saved.
It is an account of some extraordinary circumstances Ifound myself in often completely unconnected to my everydayworld of dogs circumstances brought about simply as aresult of my passion for dogs equalling someone else's.
This is a tribute to all the good that came out of oneunique, genuine, caring, determined, proud establishment; aplace as deeply ingrained in British heritage as the monarchy,fish and chips and cups of tea.
A place known simply as Battersea Dogs Home.
Chapter 1
Like a Dog With a Bone
MR WADMAN TAYLOR, head vet and manager of the world-famousBattersea Dogs Home, showed me up to his office andasked me to take a seat. The room was quite dark, with greenleather chairs, wall-to-wall bookshelves and dog beds everywhere.The desk was piled high with paperwork. There werephotographs on the walls of handsome hounds, proudlyposing with large silver trophies. I couldn't decide if the roomsmelled more of dog or pipe tobacco but something about itmade me feel strangely at home.
Two cairn terriers stood guarding their bed, which wasbetween me and the seat I'd been asked to take. Was this myfirst test? Were the dogs part of the interview panel? Mr W.T.assured me they were harmless (with him maybe) but everystep I took prompted their deep growls to become more frenzied,lip-curling, teeth-gnashing barks. A young 18-year-old,having had no previous exposure to this kind of dog behaviour,I wasn't exactly sure what to do. Somewhere in thedarkest recesses of my mind the words 'show no fear' playedas if on a continuous loop in my head.