Braidburn Dog Show 1961; photograph SPL
I'm unsure when the Braidburn Valley Pet Shows began; I'd hazard a guess that it was at least in 1961. But for those of us from Oxgangs it was quite an exciting event in the season of the year and quickly became an established and integral part of the school summer holidays.
Iain Hoffmann holding Freddy the tortoise; Alison Blades with Candy the cat; Anne Hoffmann squeezing tightly on to Simon the cat!
Although we had a series of pets I'm uncertain whether we ever took one along because whilst pet shows were lovely ideas in theory in practice they had the potential for mayhem what with the mixture of cats and white mice; not to mention our feline friends' supposed worst enemies - dogs; and of course greyhounds might chase rabbits, etc. etc. - a nightmare scenario with beloved pets getting lost or fur flying! Who knows, my sister Anne may have taken our cat Simon along in a cage.
A happy Carol McMillan with two Pekingese at Braidburn Dog Show 1961; photograph SPL
But I wonder if that was why it perhaps reverted to a dog show in 1971 or were they separate events?
Photograph courtesy Anne Yeung
But perhaps my negativity stems from arriving back home one hot Saturday afternoon from the pet show in the summer of 1968 to find myself in agony howling with a pain in my left side ending up with an ambulance arriving at the door of 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue to cart me off to Ward 32 at the Royal Infirmary to be ensconced there for three whole weeks - today they couldn't get you out of there quick enough!
I was supposed to be released after two weeks but the doctors decided to extend my stay for another week to conduct tests; when I heard the news I burst into tears. With the brilliant Sister Turner's (from Jedburgh) permission, a young nurse, Nurse Paxton, took pity on me and to cheer me up took me out of the ward for a few hours up to her flat at Bruntsfield overlooking the Links to cook and share a meal with her flatmates - spaghetti Bolognese was served up - gosh what an eye opener that was not to mention the idea of young people sharing a flat with one another. I can just imagine what some people might think of that today but I find it a rather life-enriching thing and emblematic of another time.
They never ever got to the bottom of the severe pain but it re-occurred again two years later in June 1970 after I'd competed for Boroughmuir against George Watson's and Heriots in a triangular athletics match down at Myreside requiring a two week stay, once again leaving the doctors scratching their heads.
By then my stay had strayed into the school summer holidays. However come the second week I was allowed to wander out in the hospital grounds and on one occasion I was so bored I clambered over the fence and into the Meadows to play a game of footie in my dressing gown and pyjamas not coming back to the ward until mid-evening much to the relief of the staff; 'Oh don't worry about the muddy pyjamas!'
No comments:
Post a Comment