It’s no secret I’m a dog lover. One of the beasts is sitting at my feet while I type this. I’m interested in animals of all sorts but dogs and elephants are favourites.
I’ve often wondered why I’m so attracted to elephants.
Maybe it’s because they’re clever, hard-working, loyal, great family members, have incredible strength and are intelligent enough to know when to use it.
It’s probably all of this – and more.
When I was a sixth former, more years ago than I care to remember, I had the opportunity to travel to West Africa on an educational cruise ship – yes really! It was called the SS Uganda. We flew to Casablanca and picked up the ship, which then sailed to West Africa via Gran Canaria. What an experience for a seventeen year old who hadn’t gone further than Cornwall.
The sights and sounds from that adventure are for another blog post, perhaps. I didn’t see any big game but I bought a small, wooden elephant to give to my beloved Grandpa.
When he died and we cleared his house, it was one of the few things I kept. It began a collection of elephants which I still add to every now and again.
When I began collecting elephants they seemed quite tricky to track down. As the years have passed, they’re everywhere! I now only add a particularly unusual one. Space is an issue too. And, oh my, don’t they collect dust!
Each elephant has a memory – of a place or special time. I thought I’d start a (very) occasional series of blogs about them – and the story attached.
This is the little elephant I brought back from Senegal for Grandpa. The carving is simple, even naïve but he’s got real character. I’ve no idea what Grandpa thought about his granddaughter jetting off to another continent but I know he appreciated the souvenir. It was kept, in pride of place, on the utility-polished-to-make-it-look-like-mahogany sideboard in the front room.
If, for any reason, I’d have to part company with my elephant collection, he’s the one I’d have to keep. He reminds me of so much: of a fantastic African experience and of Grandpa. I adored him and he spoiled me rotten.
Grandpa had been a country boy. One of his stories was how he bought day old chicks from the market and, to keep them alive, put them in the warming shelf in the bottom of the stove!
As well as chickens and ducks, he kept goats in his back garden. It’s not recorded what his very suburban neighbours thought about this. One of my favourite memories was helping him pick fresh peas and strawberries from his vegetable plot and eating raw rhubarb dipped in sugar. He loved Camp Coffee and made the best chips – chunky and triple fried.
Grandpa represented safety, security, warmth and unreserved love. I was the last person in the family to see him when he was in hospital and I’ll treasure those few moments we had together before he died.
But I never understood his affection for Pekinese dogs.
Did I say I liked all animals? Maybe that’s not quite true …
Love, Georgia x