Our childhood dog Gyp. He was about 18" in height but thought he was much larger and the Don Juan of dogs.
I mentioned my cousin Iain earlier when he enhanced my vocabulary. Iain lived about 500 yard away from My Aunt Isabel’s house in Kirn, Dunoon. My Aunt Isabel (Paterson) was my Mum’s sister and her side of the family whereas my cousin Iain (Gibson) was on my Dad’s side. When we were on holiday in Dunoon, I would have my dinner at the Paterson’s then occasionally head over to the Gibson’s where I usually got some dinner too. My cousin Iain is slightly older than me, he has always been a really kind and generous person. He started work on the laundry vans when I came to stay with his family as the Patersons had moved down to the north of England. When it was time to go home Iain said he would write which he did, and he always included a sixpence which was a lot from his small wage. One of the other times I stayed at Iain’s, probably the year after the one above, one of Iain’s friends was in the Territorial Army, or something like that and he had a couple of one-man canoes in his care. Of course, he kindly let me out on one and my cousin Iain out on the other. I had only ever been out on rowing boats before, and this was completely different. Once I started to get the hang of it, Iain had this brilliant idea about rowing out to the Gantocks, a lighthouse out on the river Clyde, so off we went. I never realised how strong the currents were in the Clyde until it was time to row back, then I really started to panic, no matter how hard I rowed I just couldn’t seem to make any progress, my arms felt like lead, yet I couldn’t stop. Iain was much further in front and wasn’t aware that my vivid imagination had me already out to sea. I persevered and made progress until I eventually caught up with him. Did I learn? not a bit of it. We headed towards the pier where we were scooting about showing off to the people waiting on the next ferry. The pier looked huge as I got close up, all the better for my admiring audience, that is until I got stuck under one of the massive wooden supports for the pier. Just for effect a large car ferry had decided to arrive at that time, I could see it’s large wake very clearly as it got closer and closer. I struggled and couldn’t get the canoe to shift and then a man in uniform looked over the top of the pier and shouted, “Get that bloody canoe (if these were not the words, it was certainly close) out of there.” At this stage I was about ready to jump out of the canoe and take my chances running along the wooden support beams when suddenly I broke free. The Ferry was very close and there was a man in uniform watching closely from the front of that too. Well I had a new lease of life, I paddled that canoe like a champion, gliding not through the water but over it like a champion. Of course, that was enough adventure for me for that day. I never went out on the canoe again.
Several years later Iain came to stay with us for a week’s holiday in Polbeth, I had started drinking vodka, I think I seventeen, but my Mum and Dad didn’t know. Iain and I went out to the Meadowhead Hotel, approximately 2-3 miles away on the Friday night and I ended up getting quite drunk. Iain was panicking knowing that my parents were unaware that I had started drinking (I say that as if I went out and consumed loads of drink, truth is I’ve never been much of a drinker). There was no taxi to hand and no bus so we had to walk home, that is to say that Iain did, I staggered even although I was ably supported by Iain holding me underneath the elbow. We arrived outside the close, Iain took stock of the situation and asked me to wait as he would go and get Gyp and we could take him a small walk which would complete the sobering process for me. We took the dog a walk down through the park, letting him off the lead in the process. When we arrived at the bottom of the park we could not find Gyp, we called, we whistled, no response, I may even have shouted SPAM!. By this time Iain was a nervous wreck, I was drunk but getting sober and the dog had disappeared. We searched everywhere in the dark and couldn’t find him, eventually we gave up, and by this time I was completely sober. Iain on the other hand must have thought he’d leapt from the frying pan into the fire, now he felt responsible for Gyp and he was going to have to explain to my parents how the dog had disappeared. He trudged up the road beside me, we entered the close, I could just about hear Iain’s brain trying to figure out what to say about the missing Gyp. We climbed the stairs, got to our front door, looked resignedly at each other, turned the handle to be nearly deafened by the barking which came from inside. Proving that you may think your dog will appreciate a walk, but he may not always agree!
