Steve Greenhalgh - A Seal Pup in My Bath: Tales from an Rspca Inspector

Wow! Its perfect for Rolf. Well get the film crew round there straight away.

The scene was the RSPCA call centre for the north-west and one of the controllers answering the phones had just informed the BBC production team of a rescue job about to be tasked to the Lancashire East inspector me.

The BBC hit programme Animal Hospital was being recorded in the region and a film crew was stationed at the call centre near Manchester ready to respond to any calls that might fit their bill. The legendary, much loved Rolf Harris fronted the show a man of many talents and, unusually, a master of them all. The programme had proved immensely popular with the public and had showcased the work of the Society over many years.

Personally, when I heard that the BBC would be filming in the area I had some misgivings about the whole thing. Till then, as a rule, I had always got the job done before involving any media folk. It was a policy that had served me well in the past but would have to be abandoned now: I had to change my ways whether I liked it or not. My only hope was that nothing of interest would happen in my patch while the film crew was in town. That phone call blew my hopes out of the water and, inevitably, the rescue itself turned out to be awkward and out of the ordinary.

I asked for assistance, and was delighted when Inspector Sue Clough came down from north Lancashire to help. It just so happens that Sue, in addition to her excellent qualities as an RSPCA inspector, is a stunningly beautiful lass and I hoped that the camera would naturally follow her rather than myself on our rescue mission.

A marooned cat had been sighted clinging to the branches of a large bush a few feet above the gloomy waters of the Leeds & Liverpool canal at Nelson, in the Pendle area north of Burnley. It was a cold winters day and I was in Darwen when the call came through. I estimated Id reach Nelson in about twenty minutes and arranged to meet Sue there. This was all to the good as wed have half an hour or so to assess the situation before the film crew arrived.

Mrs Sutton, the caller, lived in a quiet little street adjoining the canal near one of the many small bridges that straddled it. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up over the bridge number and I met Sue at the wrong one. We started walking along the towpath towards the centre of Nelson, looking out for the cat along the way.

It must be here! I said. They said the location was close to the bridge. I was finding it difficult to match up the information on my job sheet with what we were seeing.

Sue stopped and shook her head. Somethings not right. She suggested we ring the caller. A few minutes later the mix-up over bridge numbers was resolved and we were knocking on Mrs Suttons door.

Come in. My names Nellie. Sit thee down. Inside, tea and home-made oat and honey biscuits were on the table waiting for us. We really wanted to get on with the job but Nellie said she had more to tell us and the biscuits looked delicious. Just then, a young lad about ten years old knocked on the door and ran into the house.

Ah, Jimmy!

Our host explained that the youngster had seen the trapped cat about an hour ago and had called to tell her. It was well known in the neighbourhood that she was fond of animals, and she had more than a few of her own. In fact, a great big friendly ginger and white tomcat had parked itself in Sues lap and two perky little Yorkshire terriers were romping around my feet craving attention.

Do you think the cat is hurt or injured, Jimmy? I asked.

I dont think so, mister. Just cold and frightened.

Jimmys a good lad, said Nellie. Hes always lookin out for the animals. Will you show the officers where the cat is, Jimmy?

Aye, missus.

Nellie reached into her apron pocket and retrieved a twenty-pence piece which she pressed into the young lads outstretched hand. Goodness will always be rewarded in this house and dont you forget that, Jimmy.

Jimmy thanked her, and the four of us set off up the road towards a narrow bridge across the canal. A short distance along the towpath Jimmy pointed to a bush growing out of the water near a high wall on the far side and we saw the black and white cat huddled uncomfortably in its branches. He looked thoroughly miserable, shivering with cold and fright.

Sue and I walked round and considered the possibility of reaching down over the wall to rescue the animal. The sheer drop to the water was around twenty feet and not much less to the cat. What was more, the branches of a tree seemed an impossible barrier to such an approach. I leaned forward over the edge of the wall, just to make sure, and nearly lost my footing.

Blimey, Steve! yelled Sue. You frightened me to death.

Sorry. Still, it would have been a laugh for the spectators . There were folk everywhere, and a posse of Jimmys friends had joined him and Nellie Sutton on the bridge. Like us, they were wondering what would happen next.

I think wed better try to get the boat up from Manchester, I suggested.

Best bet, I should say, Sue agreed. Within a few minutes Id got through to the call centre to enquire after the boat, but unluckily it was undergoing repairs and a non-starter as far as the rescue was concerned. Sue and I looked at one another and raised our eyebrows. Things were going badly, and were about to get worse. The film crew arrived.

Their leading light was athletic looking and wore jeans and a designer sweater. He had a light raincoat over his shoulders and was smiling as he approached us.

We got here as fast as we could, he assured us. Not missed anything, have we? Sue looked across at me, obviously recalling my balancing act above the murky waters of the canal.

Not a lot, she said, much to my relief.

Whats the plan then? he enquired. I thought for a minute.

I think its time to call the fire brigade. Well see where we go from there.

That was it. Cameras and other essential equipment were quickly in place and the Animal Hospital team did a short interview with me while their leader stood some distance away chatting to Sue. The fire brigade arrived in no time and had a look for themselves before joining us.

Its a tricky one is this, the officer in charge told me. Im not sure how we can help. Any ideas?

We were hoping youd have some.

Weve ladders, ropes and cutting equipment, but nothing that seems to fit the bill. I reckon you need a boat.

We tried to get ours from Manchester, but its out of action, I said.

Do you know anyone we might approach to borrow one? I asked. The fireman scratched his head.

You could try the waterways authority. They certainly have some.

We retired to Nellie Suttons house where I spent a good half-hour on the phone. Finally, when all seemed lost, I got an offer of a small rowboat which would arrive by lorry within the hour. It would have to do.

We returned to the canal bank in the hope that a passing narrow boat might appear on the horizon not likely in the middle of winter. The crowd had increased threefold and we were the centre of attention, along with the film crew. We had another confab with the fire lads, who told us they would stay around in case they could help out when the boat arrived providing there were no emergency calls in the meantime.

Right, lads. We turned round and there was Nellie Sutton with three of the youngsters who were her eyes and ears in the neighbourhood. They were carrying trays loaded with hot mugs of tea and sandwiches and carrot cake on delicate porcelain plates that looked as if they might have been inherited from her grandmother far too good for general use.