A half-hearted spring-cleaning session at home during the week came to a welcome halt when I unearthed a couple of my father’s wartime RAF books under a pile of disintegrating paperbacks. The Air Ministry books, published more than 80 years ago, always serve as a reminder of when as a kid I made a faux pas of embarrassing proportions.
After the war, in the late 1950s my parents took part in an exchange programme in which German students were placed with British families at my home town of Reading in a bid to heal the cultural wounds. We had this very pleasant young German student called Jurgen from Bielefeld, which had been heavily bombed during the war. As none of our family knew a word of the German language, conversation was a bit on the thin side and his most frequent expression in English was “I’m sorry, I don’t understand”. a bit like me in Thailand.
One evening my mum suggested I show Jurgen my favourite books. So I had a sniff around in my bedroom and frankly there was not much to choose from. In retrospect I should have selected some of the bland football tomes.
Instead, I returned downstairs to proudly present my dad’s RAF wartime books full of photographs of German fighters and bombers being shot down and cities being bombed, with jingoistic captions. My mum was horrified. I was too young to realise I had really put my foot in it, although Jurgen didn’t complain and actually took quite an interest in the wartime photographs.
For my contribution to improving Anglo-German relations, I earned a severe reprimand from my mum. I wasn’t destined for a diplomatic career.
Flower girl
The following year we hosted another German student called Rosvita and I was instructed by mother in no uncertain terms to stay away from any wartime books. She was a lovely girl and even helped out with the housework. I was assigned to take Rosvita out on bicycle rides in the nearby Chiltern Hills which was good fun. We invariably returned with large bundles of wild flowers and by the time Rosvita left, our house was resembling a florist.
The dog rescuer
Considering the canine mugshot for this column ‘s printed edition of the Bangkok Post it’s about time we had a couple of doggy tales.
Verity Cattanach Poole is an English woman who for the past 17 years has been running a dog rescue centre with her Thai husband Thep in Bang Saphan, Prachuap Khiri Khan province. Bang Saphan is about 80km south of Prachuap provincial town.
The Headrock Dogs Rescue has been a successful venture but at the age of 77, Verity is ready to hand over to a younger generation with the required verve and energy to look after the abused and neglected street dogs.
Verity has posted her situation on Facebook and although she has received a positive response, as yet no one has been willing to take on the workload.
Rewarding experience
Verity currently looks after 60 dogs at the centre and another 60 at the local temple. She admits on her website it is not easy work, saying, “This isn’t just a job, it’s a commitment to a life of purpose”. She adds: “It’s hard work with long hours, and it can be heartbreaking at times, but the rewards are immense.”
She says that anyone taking over should have an “unwavering passion for the welfare of dogs”.
Verity can be contacted at Tel: 089-0283-787 and email: headrockdogrescue@gmail.com. There is a video on the centre at headrockdogs.org/our-takeover.
Miracle
It’s amazing what rescue dogs can achieve if they are looked after. Readers may recall the extraordinary tale from a decade ago when a Thai dog that was rescued by the Soi Dog Foundation went on to win an award at the prestigious Crufts show in London.
The dog had been crammed on a truck in the Northeast with hundreds of other strays, destined for the cooking pots of Vietnam. A harrowing photograph of these poor creatures aboard the intercepted truck went around the world.
Among those deeply moved by the photo was a Scottish lady, Amanda Leask, from Inverness. She was particularly struck by one dog that looked in a wretched state. Amanda adopted the dog which became a great companion for her son Kyle, who suffered from cerebral palsy and autism. She named the dog Miracle and the former stray and her son became true soulmates.
In 2015 Miracle won the Friends For Life award at Crufts and the RSPCA Animal Hero Award.
Nipper
I should mention here Nipper, a fox terrier which for many years was the most recognisable dog in the world. Nipper’s story began in 1899 when English artist Francis Barraud borrowed a record machine from the Gramophone Company so he could paint his pet, Nipper, listening to it.
The company was so impressed by the resulting painting entitled His Master’s Voice that they adopted it as their trademark. The company moved to the US and the familiar image of Nipper sitting listening to the old gramophone became recognisable worldwide as the symbol of Radio Corporation of America.
Nipper earned his name for his habit of nipping the legs of visitors he didn’t like. I know a few hounds like that on my soi.