So far we've got up to where I was about to go to University, but of course all sorts of other things had gone on during that time period. It's time to fill some of them in.
The first thing that comes to mind are the pets I've had. Apart from Wiggly the goldfish that I won at a funfair and only lived a month, the pets consisted of hamsters and dogs.
I had two hamsters, one after the other, called Tubby and Susie. Tubby was a big male, and by far the more interesting; he specialised in eating, climbing and escaping and is the only hamster I've come across to live long enough to go bald! We (my sister and I) both got a hamster at the same time from our Aunty Jane (sadly no longer with us even though she'd only be 62 now), but it was Tubby who got the reputation. Twice he got out by gnawing his way out of his cage, but this was foiled by reinforcing it. He could stuff a gargantuan amount of food in his cheek pouches and climb up the front of the cage in a way that would make mountaineers tacking an overhang feel jealous. And he had the strength to lift the cage front and get it wedged where there was enough space for him to get out. On this lucky occasion, he managed to drop about three feet to the floor without hurting himself and scuttle behind the cooker. The only chance of luring him out was food, so there I was with a piece of cheese in position, waiting patiently for his weakness to have an effect. He gradually emerged, grabbed the cheese and sat there boldly scoffing it until the fickle hand of fate descended to end his escapade (I was eleven years old and once got a school merit mark for my essay about him).
When I was thirteen, we acquired two dogs. They were mongrel litter-sisters called Emma (also caled Boo and who lived to be 12 and died of parvo-virus) and Jeannie (also called Ted and who lived to be 14 and went senile). They were devoted to each other as well as the family, were good guard dogs, and so well behaved they could be taken for walks without a lead. However they did sometimes roll in hedgehog shit. They were easy to please with cheap dog food (we didn't have much money - indeed we never seemed to have much) and for treats they had half a Rich Tea finger biscuit each. They were very affectionate but hated thunder and fireworks. One day we were stupid enough to go out on Guy Fawkes night and we came back to pandemonium in the kitchen (where the dogs had their bed). In their fright they had gone berserk and scratched or chewed three doors. My dad went ballistic. Having them meant we were limited with holidays, usually to some rainy week or fortnight in a caravan somewhere, playing cards or Monopoly, armed with a massive box of chicken flavoured crisps (potato chips). I had long since left education and home when Emma and Jeannie died, but they'd left their marks in my heart and they were two very sad days indeed.
Next time I'll look at some more human comings and goings from this period.
Jack Orchison, February 9, 2014.
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