The Pond
Details have been changed to protect anonymity
Mrs Pumphry is a character in the British TV series All Creatures Great and Small along with her beloved Pekingese Triki Woo.
Her diction was immaculate, and from her speech, it was obvious that this was a highly educated lady. She sounded like she was used to giving directions to tradespeople, which she did with precision, even down to the yardage. She didn’t sound like a young person, and I was slightly concerned to be told that the object of calling me was her Rottweiler. Experience had told me that elderly owners and young Rottweilers are very often not a good mix. It had nothing to do with temperament, just the obvious fact that the “Rotty” is an immensely strong dog, and retired people can sometimes struggle to manage such a powerful animal.
I drove down the long tree-lined drive and saw in front of me a very large house complete with a gardener pruning the roses that framed the front door. This was a house that didn’t have a modern doorbell but a metal handle that required a tug, no sound could be heard, but within moments the door was opened by a charming young lady wearing a brightly coloured tabard.
“Mr Hodson, I presume, please follow me.”
I did and was led into a large sitting room. The furniture was all antique and sitting on a chaise lounge was the lady of the house. She rose, indicated that I should take a seat, informed me that she was Mrs Chaple and turned to the young lady who had met me at the door and ordered tea. I glanced around the room and then at my hostess and was instantly transported to the town of Darraby. My client had an uncanny resemblance to Mrs Pumphry only there was no Triki Woo sitting on a velvet cushion.
Having exchanged pleasantries, I asked what I was required to do.
“Well, Mr Hodson, my son was rather concerned that living as I do in this large house that I might be vulnerable to burglars and other nefarious individuals. Quite frankly, I feel quite safe as I have three staff two of whom live in but my son is adamant that I need a dog for protection. So he has purchased Winston and gave him to me, but my son lives in London, and I have no experience of dogs, and I am at my wit’s end as to what to do. I spoke to Mr Abbott the vet, and he has suggested that you were the best person to consult”
Winston
I suggested that the time has arrived when I should meet Winston. I remained seated as Mrs Chaple got up, opened the door and allowed Winston to enter the room. Winston, like so many of his breed, was, in fact, just a gentle dog, a little exuberant but very friendly and in no way threatening. He approached me, sniffed and then promptly rolled over to have his tummy stroked.
“As you can see, Mr Hodson he hardly shows the characteristics of a guard dog, I mean, he does this to everybody. What am I to do? “
“It’s like this, Mrs Chaple, you have a simple choice, I can train Winston to protect you, but it will take some time, and first he has to be under total control, so some basic obedience has to be taught first. The other option is to take the view that his mere presence is enough of a deterrent.”
In those days, if you spoke to the local community policeman or the one that advised on house security, he would check doors and windows for their security, and it was not unknown for them to inform you that the best deterrent to a burglar was a large dog.
“Mrs Chaple, I can assure you that the mere indication that there is a Rottweiler on the premises is enough to deter all but the most professional thief. Let’s face it the intruder doesn’t know that Winston just wants his tummy tickled, all he has to do is just be here and look the part”
It was agreed that a bit of basic training was required, and this involved me visiting regularly. This took place at the rear of the house in a paved area which was ample for the purpose. However, I was slightly curious about what lay behind the gate and line of trees. Every session was followed by a chat and a cup of tea with my client, who asked endless questions regarding my work. During one conversation, I explained that I was looking to add some water lilies to my pond.
“Oh, splendid.” She replied I will ask the gardener to put some aside for you from our pond. We have so many, and I’m sure that he will only be too pleased.”
The pond
On my next visit after the mandatory cup of tea, I was instructed to go through the gate that had aroused my curiosity, follow the path and meet the gardener who went by the name of Bennett. I followed the path and was astounded at what lay in front of me. This wasn’t a pond, but a lake with an island in the middle and there standing on the edge of the lake was Bennett.
A wry smile crossed his face as he saw my look of astonishment.
“Bin expecting you my ‘andsom”.
He said in his broad Cornish accent.
“’ Spect she said it wer’ a pond din’t she”? “How big is yours”?
“At the top, about 5 feet across”. I replied
We looked at each other and simultaneously burst out laughing.
“Mrs C is a lovely lady but don’t live in our world. I put a couple of lilies in a waterproof bag in the side passage. Take ‘em as you leave”.
This I did and, on my following visit, complimented Mrs Chaple on her “pond”.
Winston was an excellent pupil who learnt quickly, and sadly, my task completed, I said goodbye to Winston and his somewhat unworldly mistress.
Following my successful visits, it became apparent that I had been added to Mrs Chaple’s Christmas card list as each year I received a personalised card wishing me and my family seasons greetings from Mrs Chaple and Winston. This continued for many years. However, on one occasion, there was an added text. It appeared that there had been a spate of burglaries that year amongst Mrs Chaple’s neighbours, however, Mrs C was one of the few who were not targeted, and I noted from her missive a hint of triumphalism.
It transpired that none of them who were burgled owned a dog!!
“What’s the difference between a Rottweiler and a Poodle peeing on your leg? You let the Rottweiler finish!!”
Frank Carson