emma and company - Sheila Hocken

by Emma

  save the tooth she knocked out and stuck it back in, but i

  hadn't had time to go to the dentist. I'd rummaged in the

  kitchen drawer for some glue we had, scrutinized it very

  carefully to make sure it didn't say anything about being

  toxic and stuck my tooth in with it. I'd been absolutely sure

  that morning to put the tube of glue in my bag in case my

  tooth fell out again, and it did. We were provided with a

  salad lunch with prawns and my tooth fell out right in the

  middle of my heap of prawns. Luckily for me, Betty was

  Sitting next to me.

  'Betty,' i whispered, hoping that nobody else had seen

  what happened. 'My tooth's fallen out and i can't find it

  anywhere.'

  She scratched around my plate with a fork until she found

  it. 'There it is,' she said.

  i grabbed it and rushed offto the ladies' loo to stick it back

  in again. I didn't dare eat any more lunch and prayed it

  wouldn't fall out in the middle ofmy interview. Then Dorothy

  99

  i

  Steves came and sat next to me, introduced to me b- Peter,

  the producer. I'd heard of Dorothy. She trained dogs for

  films and had a very famous dog in the past called Radar, a

  most notable four-legged film star. He was a German

  shepherd who, in his day, was probably more famous

  than any Hollywood actor. Poor Dorothy had hardly had

  time to get herself seated when Peter dropped his bombshell.

  'Now then, Dorothy. i particularly asked you to come up

  to train one of these dogs. You've got quite a choice, there's

  about thirty here.' He waved a hand round to indicate the

  many dogs. 'Could you train one to do something that you

  would do in a film, say, just to show the public how you

  work?'

  i could see the look of horror on Dorothy's face. 'You

  mean you want me to get one of these dogs trained for the

  programme?'

  'Well, yes, of course. You can do that, can't you? You do

  train other people's dogs for roles in films.'

  Dorothy nodded, speechless.

  'How aboutmy poodle?' Peter said. 'He's overthere, look.'

  i glanced over to a sweet little apricot poodle who was

  standing on his hind legs, waving his front paws madly in the

  air, trying to get to all the bitches in the room.

  'How old is he?' Dorothy asked.

  'He's seven i think, but he's a charming little dog,' Peter

  assured her. 'I'm sure you could train him.'

  'But it doesn't work like that. i just can't train a dog in a

  few minutes to do something.'

  Peter looked at his watch. 'You've got two hours. The

  programme doesn't start until two o'clock.'

  'You can't train a dog for two hours solidly,' Dorothy

  explained. 'You can only teach them for a minute or two at a

  time otherwise they get bored, and i have to have the type of

  dog that i can work with.' i could see she was beginning to

  feel desperate, for it was rather a lot to ask.

  'I'll leave it with you,'he said with great confidence. 'Look

  around the room, you can have any dog you like.' He went off

  expecting miracles.

  ioo

  All this time, Bracken had been sitting gazing at Dorothy

  with loving eyes, pushing her hand occasionally with his

  nose. i have met many dog trainers but none like Dorothy

  Steves. Her attitude towards dogs was completely dillerent.

  She was calm, quiet and reassuring. No sergeant-major

  bellowing. And I knew by her attitude that she could weigh a

  dog's temperament up within minutes.

  'You can have Bracken,' i told her. 'He's quite used to

  obedience training and he likes you. l~m sure he'd do

  anything for you.' Dorothy, was fondling one of his cars and

  looking down into his face.

  'That is kind of you. i do think that he would work for me

  and perhaps i could teach him to do just a little something

  within the time. Do you mind if i just go and take him for a

  walk before i make my decision?'

  'No, fine.' i handed over his lead. There are very, very few

  people that i would let take Bracken for a walk, let alone

  entrust them with training him, but i had a feeling about

  Dorothy and i knew that her methods of training would be

  persuasive, not forceful. Within a minute or two they were

  both back, Dorothy smiling, Bracken wagging his tail with a

  look of eager enthusiasm about his face.

  'Yes, I'm sure we're going to get on. What I'll do, if you

  don't mind, is keep taking him away, just for a couple of

  minutes, and bring him back to you for a rest.' i had no idea

  what Dorothy was teaching him to do or whether he was

  responding to her, but every time she appeared and took his

  lead from me he wagged his tail and went off with her with

  great eagerness, so i knew she was using the right approach

  as far as Bracken was concerned.

  Betty had also been talked into taking part in the

  programme. She was given the producer's poodle: they

  were having a little quiz to start with for the audience - six

  dogs, six owners and they had to match the dogs with the

  right owners. Betty was dragged in to be a handler and she

  was given the poodle.

  'What do you have to do?' i asked her.

  'Nothing much. I just have to sit there with the poodle

  ioi

  until the owner comes for him. When they've done the

  competition they're going to show six owners and then six

  of us handlers with the dogs.'

  'That should be fun,' i said. i love matching dogs to

  owners. It was five minutes to ON AIR time and the studio

  was crowded. The audience had been invited to bring

  along their own pet dogs and i think there were more dogs

  than people. i had to do my interview first, then hand

  Bracken over to Dorothy and, as she was now showing

  Bracken working, i decided not to do his retrieving act.

  The first part of the programme was the quiz. i watched

  Betty with her little apricot poodle, while the cameras

  scanned the dogs, the handlers and the owners. Betty had

  bitten off rather more than she could chew by offering to

  hold the poodle as he continually tried to mate dogs either

  side of him and cried if Betty thwarted his efforts.

  'Can't you keep that poodle still?' one of the cameramen

  asked her. There was no sound coming on at this point, it

  was wild tracked with music. 'Will you stop him mating

  with that bearded collie! It doesn't look very nice, does it?'

  Betty was flanked on one side by a bearded collie and

  on the other by a large, friendly Irish wolfhound - not the

  type of dog suited to a toy poodle, but that didn't seem to

  daunt him at all. i was astounded at Bracken's good behaviour.

  Not only was he surrounded by dogs he'd never met

  before, but by ducks as well. The sheepdog that had been

  brought in was demonstrating herding, but as the studio

  was far too small to hold a flock of sheep some ducks were

  brought in for her instead. Bracken was fascinated by

  them and lay, ears pricked, watchi
ng every movement.

  My interview over, i handed Bracken over to Dorothy and

  went to sit at the back of the studio so as not to disturb

  him. He sat by her side looking up at her with a strange

  look in his eyes and i was beginning to wonder whether he

  would do the work. But, as soon as she asked him if he

  was going to show the audience what he'd learnt, a kind,

  warm expression came into those lovely eyes of his and his

  cars came forward, waiting. She took him off the lead, told

  i02

  him to wait and walked across the studio. Then she

  beckoned to him.

  'Come slowly,' she encouraged. She was demonstrating

  how he would take the part in a film of a very sad dog. Each

  paw he put down on the floor very carefully. Very slowly he

  moved towards her. She patted her hand on the floor and he

  lay down. 'Put your head on your paws,' she encouraged him

  quietly. Bracken looked around the studio weighing up the

  audience, perhaps looking for me. My heart began to pound.

  Was he going to do it?

  'Put your head down on your paws,' she asked him again

  quietly, and he did, very sadly. He lay there, head on paws.

  He looked so sad I found myself believing him and tears were

  stinging my eyes. The audience broke into spontaneous

  applause and Brackenjumped up in the air, wagging his tail,

  as if to say, well, i was only acting. I'm not at all miserable

  really.

  i found it incredible that Dorothy had taught him to do

  such a convincing act within a matter of minutes and that

  she'd used no force, no loud voice. She had just asked him

  kindly if he would co-operate. It also left a very deep

  impression on me that Bracken had enjoyed doing his act so

  much and, after reading Dorothy's most moving book about

  Radar, i realized that there were lots of things i could teach

  Bracken to do.

  Radar had been one of those very rare dogs who would do

  anything Dorothy asked him. His fame over here was mainly

  in Softly Softly, the police series on television. Radar could

  answer the telephone, chase and apprehend a criminal, save

  a baby from a burning building - to mention just a few of his

  feats. And it became a challenge to me to see if Bracken

  would be capable of doing any of these things, not for film

  work because Dorothy is always the expert on that, but just

  because Bracken enjoyed learning. And, almost immediately,

  he was given the opportunity to prove whether he could

  act or not.

  i03

  i

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  W A S A P P R 0 A C H E D by a French television company who

  asked if I'd be interested in doing a short piece of film for a

  documentary programme. i agreed on the condition that if

  they wanted to film Emma, it would only be for a short

  period and i was the one to say when she'd had enough. She

  was an old lady by then and i needed to protect her from

  these things. If i wasn't careful, Emma would be dragged all

  over the place just for people to see or film her. She'd

  deserved her retirement, so i only let people photograph her

  or film her if i felt she wanted to do it.

  It was snowing heaven's hardest when the first two of the

  French crew arrived: jacqueline and jean. They could only

  speak very little English but i managed to understand who

  they were. jacqueline was the programme researcher, jean

  the producer. i realized, with a sinking heart, how difficult

  my day was going to be whenjacqueline managed to tell me

  that none of the crew that were arriving later could speak

  English at all.

  'In fact,' she told me, 'they should have been here to meet

  us now. i think they are lost.'

  'Where are they coming from?' i asked. 'Why weren't they

  with you?'

  'Some sort of slip-up in the arrangement. We came to

  Birmingham Airport and they arrived in at Manchester.'

  'But Manchester's miles away,' i told her. 'Why didn't

  they come to Birmingham too?'

  'We didn't realize which would be nearer,' she explained,

  'not knowing where Nottingham was. And also, I'm afraid

  we haven't got a hotel.'

  i was horrified. The thought of going into a strange

  country, not knowing where to go and not even having a

  i04

  hotel booked would have worried me, but they didn't seem to

  mind. It wasn't difficult to find them a local hotel, but what

  was difficult was explaining how they were going to get there.

  i found the best answer was to put everything down on

  paper, so i drew them a map.

  'I think we'd better wait a little while,' said jean, 'for the

  other members of our crew.' They waited, and waited, and

  evening drew in. Eventually they decided they must go to

  book in at the hotel, leaving me with the very dubious task of

  explaining to four French-speaking crew what had happened.

  They arrived at about eight o'clock. They had, of course,

  got lost from Manchester and it had taken them nearly all

  day to find Nottingham. i ushered the four of them into the

  lounge and gave them hot drinks. i couldn't believe that

  none of them could actually speak English, so i stood in the

  middle of the room and looked round. 'Are you sure none of

  you can speak English?' i said. They all stopped drinking,

  looked up at me and grinned. 'Well, it's no good because i

  can't speak any French and how am i going to tell you what's

  happened tojean andjacqueline?'

  'Ah, Jean etjacqueline,' they repeated.

  'Yes, that's right. They've gone to their hotel.'

  'Hotel?' one of them said brightly.

  'Yes and you must go to your hotel, otherwise the

  reservation on your rooms will be cancelled.' They all sat

  there grinning at me. One of them, a huge man well over six

  feet, with enormous feet I'd never seen the like of before

  (afterwards i found out he was the cameraman), stood up

  and went to the front door. i had to stop him - i couldn't let

  them go out. i ran to the front door and put my arms out over

  it. 'No, no. You must wait. My husband will take you to the

  hotel when he's finished his surgery, but you must wait.~

  He threw his hands apart and talked a lot of French at me.

  i took hold of his arm and managed to drag him back into the

  lounge. We had decided, Don and i, that it was far easier for

  him to take them round to the hotel than trying to explain

  and let them get lost yet again. i had to wait a whole hour

  before Don had finished in the surgery and the time was

  spent with me monotonously filling their cups with tea and

  coffee. It ended up with us all sitting round in the lounge and

  every time i looked at one of them or moved, they all gave me

  a big grin. This reduced me to hysterical laughter and then

  they all started laughing. When Don came in, he stood at the

  door looking round in astonishment.

  'What's so funny?' he asked me.

  'I don't know,' i said, wiping the tears from my eyes. '

  they don't eithe
r.'

  All six of them arrived promptly at eight-thirty the following '

  morning to start our day of filming. The snow was still thick '

  on the ground and i was a little worried about Emma's part

  in the proceedings. i tried to make jacqui understand that if

  Emma didn't like the snow or was tired then we'd have to

  give up filming. Jean was relying on me to show him where

  the best place to film was and i walked up the lane opposite

  our house to the field, trying to demonstrate that Emma and

  Bracken would walk up there and back, Bracken leading

  Emma with her lead in his mouth. Once i felt

  understood, i fetched Bracken and Emma. Emma was

  thrilled with the snow. Despite the fact that she was sixteen,

  she still revelled in it.

  'Okay,' i shouted to Jean who was waiting at the bottom

  of the drive, camera and sound-men positioned, 'we're ready

  to start!' Nothing happened. 'We're ready when you are!' i

  tried again. Still nothing happened.

  Jean came walking up the drive. 'We are ready?' he asked

  in broken English.

  'I've been trying to tell you that,' i explained. i realized

  the day was going to be fraught with language difficulties,

  but Emma's piece of filming, luckily, went smoothly.

  Bracken took her up the lane to the field and back again

  without any technical hitches. Then we had a lot of mock-up

  filming without Emma. jacqueline described to me what

  Jean required: a picture from Emma's eye view of Bracken

  leading her, which meant Bracken walking from the field

  down the lane to the main road, with the camera behind him

  at Emma's eye level. Jean positioned the cameraman - the

  huge man with dark curly hair and big feet - behind

  Bracken, with the heavy camera on his shoulder. He was so

  big, he almost had to crawl along the ground to get Emma's

  view. He secured the end of Bracken's lead round his wrist

  and all was ready. Don had come out to help with the filming

  in his lunch-break. We were told to stand at the bottom of

  Baulk Lane, which was quite a steep hill, and call Bracken to

  us when we were given the signal by Jean.

  'It will be better if i whistle to him,' Don said.

  Can you move round the corner out of sight?'jean called.