by Kate Klimo
I don’t know as I have a name, he said as he scratched at a flea.
Fancy that! A dog who had nothing, not even a name to call his own. Do you mind if I give you one? I asked.
Suit yourself, miss, he said. Call me anything you like, but whatever you do, don’t call the dog warden. He chuckled.
I think I’ll call you Scrappy. Because you must fight valiantly for every scrap you get.
Scrappy it is, then. But don’t you go feeling sorry for me, miss, he said. I don’t mind me life one jot. It might be hard. But I figure at least I have me freedom. Can you say the same?
If freedom meant being flea-bitten and digging around in the trash for dinner, I wanted no part of it. But I didn’t say so to him. I merely wished my friend Scrappy good luck and dogspeed.
And from that day forth, whenever I caught one of the little ones complaining, I would trot out the Tale of Scrappy and say, Thank your lucky stars you were born into a royal household and not into some dark alley behind the dustbins.
—
As the days flew by in a blur for my busy queen, they began to slow down for me. I was no longer a young pup. Her Royal Highness took excellent care of me, as always. When my joints grew stiff, she fed me fish oil and gave me a boost up onto the couch. When my teeth loosened, she made sure the chef mashed up my food. She still remembered to include me in her royal activities whenever possible. I flew with her by plane or whirlybird when she went to the country residences. Those times she entertained important visitors, like presidents and movie stars and royalty from across the sea, I was there at her side.
“What a cute little dog,” the visitors would coo as they bent down to pet me.
And, no matter how important they were, Elizabeth would say, “Please don’t pet the corgis.” That was a privilege reserved for Her Royal Highness only.
When my time came to cross into the Great Hereafter, we were at Sandringham. As my vision dimmed, her dear face was the last sight I saw. Did she shed a tear for me? It may have been that a few tears fell on that Stiff Upper Lip of hers. She would miss me—that much I knew—because after my passing, she wrote a letter to the estate manager. There was a pet cemetery on the grounds started by Elizabeth’s great-great-grandmum Queen Victoria. Elizabeth drew a sketch of my gravestone and the words she wished to have engraved upon it.
SUSAN
DIED 26TH JAN 1959
FOR 15 YEARS THE FAITHFUL COMPANION OF THE QUEEN
Faithful companion. Very prettily put.
Later, she wrote another letter to the manager and asked him to insert my birthday, 20th Feb 1944, and to change the last line to read “For almost 15 years the faithful companion of the Queen.”
That was my little lady for you: big of heart and, at the end of the day, a stickler for getting things correct.
At the end of her days, Her Royal Majesty surely will leave behind a noble legacy of speeches and deeds and royal descendants. As for me, Hickathrift Pippa—also known as Susan—I left a legacy of my own. I was the founding mum of a formidable corgi dynasty. And what was my reward for this excellent work? In the afterlife, I was allowed to return to the fairy realm, where, to this very day, I proudly pull the carriage of the queen of the fairies herself.
Do you doubt my words? Allow me to suggest, boys and girls, the next time you are lucky enough to meet up with a corgi: take a closer look. I am quite sure that you will see in the rich red depths of his or her fur the very faintest tracings of a fairy saddle and harness. And if you are even luckier, you might, like my dearest Lilibet, find yourself touched by corgi enchantment.
APPENDIX
The Queen’s Corgis
King Henry XIII had his hunting hounds. King Charles II had the Cavalier spaniels that now bear his name. Queen Victoria had her collies. But no British monarch has been more strongly identified with a single breed of dog than Queen Elizabeth II is with corgis.
Princess Diana, her late daughter-in-law, called them the “moving carpet” that was forever at her feet. Long-suffering Prince Philip once said, “Why do there have to be so many?” Palace gardeners despair of them digging up flower beds. Housekeepers complain of them soiling priceless carpets, drapes, and antiques. One member of the palace staff, under condition of anonymity, said, “They are yappy, snappy ankle biters, and the queen refuses to housebreak them.”
Queen Elizabeth had corgis for pets almost all her life, from the time she was seven. Her first, Dookie, was a gift from her father. Willow, among her very last, helped his mistress celebrate her ninetieth birthday. Susan, aka Hickathrift Pippa, was a present from her parents on Elizabeth’s eighteenth birthday. Susan remained at Elizabeth’s side through her marriage to Prince Philip, her coronation, the birth of her children, and the first six years of her historic reign. The more than thirty corgis that followed were all descended from Susan.
At first, Rozavel’s owner and manager, Thelma Gray, oversaw the breeding of the royal corgis. But within ten years, Elizabeth herself took on the task, with the resulting pups being registered under the title of Windsor Kennels. This venture resulted in the purest line of corgis ever bred, amounting to some fourteen generations—all descended from a single mother: Susan.
The queen is single-handedly responsible for starting a veritable corgi craze. And, like the queen, people admire the dogs’ smarts, athleticism, and loyalty. Short in the leg, they are big on personality and an inspiration to artists and designers around the world. A corgi named Ein is the star of a popular Japanese anime series. Corgi imagery appears on socks, T-shirts, pillows, pajamas, fabric, jewelry, wallpaper, gift wrap, coffee cups, greeting cards—you name the product line, there’s probably a corgi-themed version of it on the market or in the works. In fact, the corgi is fast becoming a popular tattoo design! This once rough-and-ready working dog from the farms of Wales has become a symbol of refinement, friendliness, and goodwill.
And can the dorgi be far behind? Yes, the queen has also popularized the crossbreed known as the dorgi—a corgi-dachshund mix—when she mated one of her corgis with Pipkin, her sister Princess Margaret Rose’s beloved dachshund.
Her Royal Majesty’s fondness for corgis is known throughout the world. When she and Prince Philip visited Grand Cayman in 1983, for instance, they were presented with a striking black coral statue of a corgi. The Buckingham Palace gift shop is piled high with stuffed corgis. And corgis appear in many royal portraits of the queen.
In 2012, when London hosted the Summer Olympics, the royal corgis were featured on international television when the actor Daniel Craig, famous for portraying James Bond, went to Buckingham Palace to escort the queen to the opening ceremony. The camera followed Mr. Craig as he strode down the halls of the palace with a furry corgi convoy at his heels.
Queen Elizabeth is not the only corgi lover in the royal family. The Queen Mother also fancied the breed. A bronze statue on the Mall in London shows “the Queen Mum” with two faithful corgis nearby in bas-relief. It was she who started the tradition of treating corgis like royalty, giving them elevated wicker beds, engraved silver food dishes, and custom-prepared meals fit, if not for a king, then certainly for a royal corgi. Princess Margaret, having grown up with corgis, also owned many in her adult life, all gifts from her sister. The grown-up Prince Charles, however, seems to have transferred his favor from corgis to Jack Russells.
In spite of the corgis’ pampered existence (or perhaps because of it), the queen’s dogs have not always displayed model canine behavior. For one thing, they are only partially housebroken, and that, apparently, is the way the queen likes it! A large supply of soda water and blotting paper is kept on hand at all times, and footmen diligently follow after the corgis, who are, by and large, given the run of the palace. The royal corgis have, at various times over the past few decades, bitten not only the royal clock winder but also the royal chauffeur, a palace guard, a soldier, a policeman, a postman, and who knows how many members of the palace staff who aren’t telling. Perhaps understand
ably, there is said to be some resentment among the servants toward these pups.
So who disciplines these dogs? When it comes to naughty corgis, the queen is the only one allowed, and she is far from strict. Why this is so, one can only wonder. Has she been too often absent and unable to reinforce training? Is she too busy with affairs of state? Or is she simply softhearted? One explanation might be this: that she herself was born into captivity in her role as queen. Her life consists of an endless procession of rituals, obligations, and duties that she must never shirk. Year after year, she is required to smile and wave, make polite conversation with strangers from around the world, and, above all else, uphold tradition. Is it any wonder that she enjoys having a pack of corgis of which very little is asked—except to love her as much as she loves them—and who are, perhaps, just a little bit wild?
After seven decades, the corgi dynasty has had its day. In 2015, the queen announced that she would breed no more corgis. The line that started with Susan would now end. But this decision hasn’t prevented Her Majesty from adopting. Whisper was the beloved pet of one of her gamekeepers. When the man passed away in 2017, the queen began taking Whisper for walks—and fell in love with him.
Long live the queen! Long live her corgis!
You can read more on the queen’s corgis here:
• vanityfair.com/style/2016/05/queen-elizabeth-corgis
The Dwarf Dog
The word corgi is said to come from the Welsh words cor and gi, meaning “dwarf dog.” There are two kinds of corgis: Pembroke and Cardigan. Both have short legs, long bodies, and foxy faces. But since 1934, both the British and the American Kennel Clubs have designated them as separate breeds. The Pembroke has a shorter body and toes that turn in. It has a naturally short tail, or else it is surgically shortened, or docked, at between two and five days old. Pems are part of the spitz family of dogs, which includes Pomeranians, Samoyeds, and chow chows. The Cardigan, with a longer body, toes that turn out, and a full tail, shares more traits with the dachshund and the basset. Of the two corgi breeds, the Pembroke is thought to be friendlier and more affectionate and, perhaps because of this, is the more popular breed, usually ranked in the top twenty on the American Kennel Club (AKC) list.
Historians say the Welsh corgi dates back to the twelfth century, when Henry I of England invited Flemish weavers to settle in Wales. They brought their dogs to herd the sheep that provided their wool. Welsh farmers came to use these dogs to herd cattle in the fields and geese and chickens to the marketplace. A noisier or more raucous breed of dog might have scattered the skittish fowl, but corgis—intent and relatively quiet—were perfect for the job.
It wasn’t until the 1900s that the world outside of Wales began to pay much attention to corgis. But thanks to the efforts of breeders like Thelma Gray and Queen Elizabeth, corgis moved up from fields and farms to yards and houses—and even to castles and palaces!
For more about corgis, visit the AKC website:
• akc.org/dog-breeds/pembroke-welsh-corgi
Owning a Corgi
The Pembroke Welsh corgi is a long, strong, sturdy dog set close to the ground. For good reason, it is often called a “big dog on short legs.” It measures ten to twelve inches at the shoulder and weighs up to thirty pounds. Its head looks quite foxy with a sharp muzzle and pointed, widely spaced ears. Its short, thick, weather-resistant coat ranges in color from red to faun to black and tan with white markings in the neck, head, muzzle, and undercarriage.
It is often said that Queen Elizabeth’s corgis represent a spirit of goodwill and friendliness, and this holds true for the breed as a whole. Corgis are kind and good-hearted and fairly low maintenance. They are lively and athletic and very playful, subject to what are known as “frantic random acts of play,” otherwise known as frapping. Their coats are short and easy to groom but prone to shedding. Owners have been known to gather enough fur to knit an entire sweater! Corgis are polite to guests but, being wary of strangers, make good watchdogs.
Bear in mind that they are fundamentally working dogs. If you don’t keep them busy and interested, they may wind up finding “jobs” of their own to do, like nippily “herding” cats, birds, and small children, or, perhaps, digging up gardens. But corgis take to obedience training well, and corgis taught to obey will most likely stay out of mischief. Some people say that corgis are noisy little yappers (the queen prefers to call it “canine barking”), but if you love your corgis and make an effort to include them in family activities, they’ll find a happy place in your home.
For information about rescuing a corgi, go to these sites:
• pwcca.org/about-pembrokes/pwc-rescue-network
• cardiganrescue.org
Princess Elizabeth in 1944—the year she received Susan as a gift for her eighteenth birthday
Queen Elizabeth with her three children in 1953 (from left to right): Anne, Charles—and Susan!
The queen and her “moving carpet” of corgis in Liverpool Street Station, London, in 1968
Queen Elizabeth visits with an old acquaintance—Watney, a dorgi bred by Her Majesty—in 1998.
Two handsome gents—Peabody (left) and Mr. Neville (right)—patiently await their walk. While perhaps not of royal lineage, there is nothing “common” about any corgi!
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