Love, Sweat and Tears

by Zelie Bullen

  One day we caught the fast train in to Amsterdam to look around. It was winter and we were all jacketed up against the weather. When we walked through the red-light district, the scantily clad women were sitting in their windows as usual and Colt kept asking, ‘Why aren’t those girls cold?’ I assured him they probably had very good heaters in their rooms.

  Naturally we wanted to see lots of European circuses. Among those we visited was one of the famous Medrano circuses. One was in France, where we caught up with an old friend of Craig’s, Marcel Peters. Marcel specialises in training big cats and was presenting the animal acts for Medrano when we visited, doing one-day stands in the snow and ice. Another show was way down in the south of Spain, one of the Mondial circuses. We drove that long road trip in order to catch up with some of its best performers, the Messoudis. Craig knew Heidi Messoudi from their childhood, a beautiful performer, who married a talented Moroccan tumbler, Siad. Together with their three skilled sons, Yassin, Soffien and Karim, they have become well known in the European circus world as one of the most talented hand balancing and juggling family troupes. They are all beautiful people who were a big inspiration for Colt.

  Before we left Paris we also saw the Cirque d’Hiver Bouglione, which has been running since 1852. It is a non-travelling circus that shows in a permanent building year in and year out, and I was in awe of each of the acts and the regal atmosphere—in fact, the entire production.

  With its extensive history, European circus culture is very different to the culture of Australian circus. The old circus families in Europe are one step down from royalty. There are sometimes four or five generations of family working in the same show and the lifestyle is heavily ingrained into each generation. In many places, being in circus is considered very prestigious. By contrast, when Craig’s grandfather, Perc, started Bullen’s Circus in the early 1920s and then worked through the Great Depression, nobody had any money. There was no background or history; he literally headed off with one truck, a pony and a monkey.

  When people go to watch a circus in Europe, they dress up. It reminded me of how beautifully dressed and presented Cleo always was. Craig tells stories of Stafford and Perc putting up tents in their three-piece suits, because so many of the townsfolk would come to watch the big top go up.

  On our way to Spain, Craig, Colt and I called into Mario Luraschi’s, unannounced.

  All those years ago, I had phoned him after Mum was given the all-clear from breast cancer. He had asked how Mum was, and I told him he had been right—it hadn’t been life-threatening and she had made a full recovery. He’d then asked when I was coming back; I told him I would like to one day, but not yet. I then explained that I had fallen in love with Craig, at which he had laughed and said, ‘Oh, love, love—what you know of love? OK, we wait. When your love finished, you come back.’

  Visiting him now, after so many years, it was great fun to see my old friends again. Mario asked if we were staying. I said, ‘No. I just needed to show you that my love had not finished.’ He laughed and seemed happy for me.

  We also wanted to spend some time with the Spanish stunt team from War Horse, so together with Mum we travelled down through Spain to meet their families and their horses. When we arrived at Ricardo Cruz’s homestead, I experienced all over again the same amazement I’d felt when I first arrived at Mario’s—how can one person have so many wonderful horses in one place? Imagine the most magnificent Andalusian stallion you have ever seen—every stable at Ricardo’s has one. Truly impressive.

  After some time with the ‘Stunt Cruz’ team, Mum flew home and Craig, Colt and I hopped on a plane from Madrid to Johannesburg, to make a surprise visit to the Stockleys. We had been threatening to turn up on their doorstep for a while. It was just what we needed to complete the post-War Horse wind-down. During that stay we decided to join them all for a white Christmas back in France close to the German border, where Silvana’s lovely sister and her family run a delightful B&B. We were incredibly grateful, being so well looked after by loving people. We all made it a Christmas to remember!

  A couple of years earlier, when Colt was eighteen months old, we had visited South Africa and went to Boswell Circus. There I saw Ben Hur, the little pony I had left with Jane and Brian four years before. I asked Ben to sit and, although he hadn’t performed that particular trick since I last saw him, he did it willingly. We brought Colt in and took a photo of the two of them.

  When we went back to South Africa in 2010 to visit the Stockleys and the Boswells, Jane could see how much Colt, now four years old, loved being in the circus ring and how much he wanted to be a part of it, so she said he could lead a pony or a pig into the ring during a show, or we could even see if he was brave enough to do a small routine with Ben Hur. I ran through a couple of things with Ben, and he was still right on cue even after all these years.

  Colt and Ben did a little act together and it was one of the strangest and yet most beautiful experiences I’ve had since Colt came into our life. The crowd loved it and Colt loved it and he tells everyone about his pony in Africa, and I love that he knows who Ben is.

  Our travelling life has some disadvantages—predominantly having loved ones scattered around the world, whom we all miss terribly—but it has far more positives. When we are happily at home, Colt talks about missing Jamie and Dana Stockley’s daughter Shaye in South Africa, or the four Griffith boys in America; and when we are working overseas or interstate, he pines for his gorgeous Aussie friends.

  CHAPTER 58

  Safe

  In early 2011 we returned at last and settled back into life in Australia with our own animals. It’s always so nice to return to our piece of paradise on the Gold Coast, to enjoy time together catching up with our home life and loved ones.

  One of the other negatives of our lifestyle is that over the years I have missed out on some very special events as a result of working away. I have missed friends’ weddings, the births of their babies and many other occasions, including my youngest sister Kate’s twenty-first. If I have any regrets in life, it’s that.

  Fortunately, this time we made it home in time for the birth of Lydia’s baby girl and for my sister Cloud’s wedding. She married her long-term partner Gavin and became pregnant soon after, and in October Craig and I found out that we too were expecting another baby. I was delighted that the cousins would be so close in age, and completely thrilled to be able to give Colt another sibling. With impeccable timing he had just started asking for a baby sister.

  Yet once again, fear crept into my thoughts, though I pushed it aside with the overwhelmingly joyful expectation of having another little person coming into our lives.

  But our delight soon turned to despair: after a pregnancy of only ten weeks, our little one no longer had a heartbeat. I was soon booked into the Gold Coast Hospital for an operation to remove the incomplete pregnancy.

  I was emotional as Craig dropped me off and took Colt away for the day to explore some of the local parks. Craig gave his mobile number to the nursing staff and we warned them that, the last time I had come out of general anaesthetic (after breaking my ankle) I’d had a bad reaction to the drugs. We had decided that, if I was taking a while to recover from the anaesthetic, Craig would keep Colt away until I was ready to leave, rather than letting him see me in that state or trying to keep him entertained in the hospital’s corridors.

  All went to plan at the hospital, but when I tried to call Craig while I was in recovery he didn’t answer his phone. Over the next three hours, grief and fear engulfed me. I called Tamzin, who now lives on the Gold Coast with her family, and she immediately came to my side—yet again. The nursing staff continued to call Craig’s phone, but still he didn’t answer.

  I was trying to remain calm as I called Jan, Kate and several others to see if they knew where the boys were. I was asking everybody the same question: Why isn’t he answering his phone? No one could give me a convincing explanation and all of my past fears of loss came back.
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br />   In the end, Tamzin and I drove around the Gold Coast looking for our Chevy pick-up, then filed a missing persons report at the police station. As the hours went by, I became frantic. I was terrified that something had happened to my boys. I just kept saying, ‘Please, please, please.’

  Finally, Craig and Colt arrived back at the hospital. The staff told them how concerned we all were and about the state I had left the hospital in. Craig called me immediately. I was already nauseous; but when Craig’s name came up on my phone I felt as if I was going to pass out.

  Tamzin drove me back there as fast as she could. When she pulled up at the hospital entrance and I saw them, I simply fell out of the car onto them and hugged and hugged them, crying. All I could say for hours afterwards was, ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’—Craig and Colt were safe.

  Something had gone wrong with Craig’s phone. It had seemed to be working and looked like it was on, so it was only when he thought it strange that he hadn’t heard from the hospital at all for several hours and he tried to ring me that he realised it wasn’t working.

  Although I felt grief for the baby who didn’t live to join our world, it was suppressed by my overwhelming gratitude that my boys were safe.

  Epilogue

  One day, quite early in my relationship with Craig, I was looking out the window and I saw him arriving home. As he walked down the hill, Snoopy and Aura ran up to him. Up to that time I had often pointed out to him that he very rarely patted the dogs. I knew he liked to be with animals, that he was good with animals, and that he understood them, but I didn’t see a whole lot of lovin’ going on. And that was—and still is—my world: enjoying and loving animals.

  On this magic day I realised that he had learnt to relax and enjoy the dogs. As they came up to greet him, he said, ‘Hey dogs!’ and then he squatted down on the grass and they rolled around on him. He gave them a cuddle, and I thought, ‘Look at him enjoying the animals.’ It was really fun for me and I didn’t half tease him about it afterwards.

  Only as recently as when we were working on War Horse, I reminded him to take his time despite the intense workload. As I’ve said, the individual relationship an animal has with his or her trainer is crucial. If an animal doesn’t like you, if there isn’t yet a relationship or the bond isn’t strong, you are not going to get the same results as if you and the animal have an appreciation and mutual respect for one another. We were both under pressure on War Horse—there was a lot we had to get through each day—but there were times when I’d suggest he take a horse for a walk, let it pick out some fresh grass and just hang out with it for a while.

  That’s what I like doing. Training is great fun, but I am still just as happy to be hanging out with the animals.

  As far as I’m concerned, there are two very important aspects of becoming a good trainer and I don’t think either one of them can be taught beyond a certain point. The first aspect is timing, the second a sense of ‘feel’. Craig’s timing is impeccable. His ability to read an animal is better than that of most people I know, and yet I think in the last ten years his sense of ‘feel’ has reached an entirely new level.

  I have learnt a lot from him about wild and exotic animals, and I think he has learnt something from me about horses, particularly the wide range of personalities that horses can have. He spent his early life around horses and circus ponies, but he seemed to treat them all in the same way. I have shown him that’s not a good idea with horses.

  Of course, experience is the third most important factor in becoming a great trainer but, without the natural timing and feel, your ability to learn from experience is limited.

  Different people have different priorities. Some people want money, some fame; others want a large family, job satisfaction or a high-rolling career. Me? I want to be happy.

  I quite simply believe that the most important thing in life is to be happy.

  I don’t have any solid theories about the meaning of life or what the universe is all about—to be honest, I give those topics very little thought. I choose to live simply and to follow the dreams that bring me happiness. I have lived through some of life’s hardships, as many people have, and as hard and disturbing as those times have been, they have only made me stronger in the long run.

  I know what it’s like to be sad, depressed, nervous, anxious, jealous, guilty, embarrassed and resentful; and I choose instead to walk the paths that make me feel excited, alive, vibrant, enriched, enlightened, empowered, loved—in short, I choose to be happy.

  I have seen people try to satisfy some desire or hunger inside them with superficial things, and the hunger only grows and they always feel they have to get the next thing—the nice car or house. It is like a band-aid treatment, a short-term fix. Instead the ‘hunger’ needs to be tackled with a holistic approach—find what it is that will make you feel better. Not just a temporary satisfaction, but internal peace.

  I think the best way to find internal peace is to stimulate your passion and follow your dreams. One of the ways I do that is by helping others. I like there to be happiness around me: I get an internal reward when others find happiness. I love helping others find happiness in themselves. That help can be as simple as saying to someone that they look nice today, or telling them, ‘You know what you are really good at . . .’ Quite simply, it feels good when those I care about feel good.

  Feeling beautiful inside—loving who I am, who I have become and who I am continuing to become with each passing year—gives me a sense of pride that is enveloped in love. And it brings immense satisfaction.

  I have very vivid memories of being a young girl who loved animals, growing up on the outskirts of Perth. I had an abundance of love, and experienced wonderful opportunities, but I know I saw more ugliness than the average kid. I was well nurtured and yet I also recall a lot of insecurity. I was exposed to various situations, opinions and lifestyles that sometimes brought me confusion, disappointment and anger.

  I didn’t know or appreciate until much later in my life how tough it must have been for my amazing mum back then, or how much she struggled to make ends meet on her own as she tried to provide her three little girls with everything we needed. I have only realised fairly recently, with the help of ABC-TV’s Australian Story producer Kristine Taylor, that back then I must have turned to animals for relief, for freedom and for an escape. Back then, I thought that, if I wanted to have a job with animals, I would have to be a veterinarian. Training animals in the movie business and Hollywood were a universe away.

  I sit here now on the wooden veranda of our beautiful dream home, nestled on our luscious fifty-acre property in South East Queensland, while my adorable five-year-old boy naps in the warm autumn afternoon sun. My amazing husband is feeding the animals and I have the immediate company of our lovely fourteen-year-old cat Cougar. I sit here drafting these closing words for a book that my incredible sister Freda helped me write about my life. I feel humbled that we were approached to write it, not by one publishing company but by three, soon after the Australian Story program featured my life.

  I don’t have that sense of ‘I’ve made it to the top!’; nor do I want to say to you, ‘Listen to me, I’ll tell you how it’s done.’ But I am honoured that I have been able to provide inspiration to so many. I certainly do not claim to have all the answers in life, nor do I know why some people seem to have to endure more pain than others, but I can tell you what has worked for me to date and what I have observed throughout my life. It has taken a lot of heartache and suffering for me to learn to think the way that I do.

  Before my beautiful sister Julie died, I too used to be one of the majority who has a basic plan mapped out for their life. All I can tell you is that the more I held onto that plan and the need to control my destiny, the more heartache came my way. The more I ‘let go’, the easier and happier my life became.

  I continue to be amazed at how many people I meet who seem to lack happiness and confidence, and who say they feel ‘stuck’ in some fo
rm of job, relationship or lifestyle. I try to encourage them to think about what they’d rather be doing or how they’d rather be living. Many have placed limitations on the way they see their life. They don’t seem to realise that their rigid restrictions prevent them from being where they want to be, or from doing what they want to do, or from being with whom they want. I find myself hoping in my heart that they can learn to ‘let go’ of all their perceived barriers, and that they can start to dream wildly and follow their passions.

  The largest and most common mistake that individuals seem to make is to put happiness as their goal, their finishing line. I have also made this same mistake myself in the past, but those days feel like a long time ago now. In the past I have said, ‘I will be happy when I have the team of horses that I want,’ or ‘I will be happy when I don’t have to deal with that issue anymore.’ It’s far easier, more rewarding and a lot healthier to simply find happiness along the way.

  I think it’s all largely related to your ability to see that the glass is half full rather than half empty. That is a valuable skill; it is well worth investing time to learn how to master it. As I showed myself when I healed my smashed ankle, positive outcomes are produced by positive energy. That’s such a simple way to create more of what I want. I truly believe you get what you think about.

  As lucky as I feel in my life, there are still things that I want. I hope I never lose that. It’s the journey of achieving my dreams that is the fun part—having the experiences and feeling the emotions along the way. If I undertook no more journeys, I might stagnate from sitting here in my bliss for too long! I crave adventure and love and I have become pretty good at either finding it or creating it along the way, whichever way I go.