In my early 20s, I moved to London from Manchester and took dance classes with Molly Molloy, an American teacher of a unique style of jazz dance. She became my mentor and a very close friend.
Eventually, we moved into a flat together in Edgware, north London. I was still studying, while she was working and teaching, which meant she travelled a lot. She said to me: “I’m going to get you some company for when I’m not here.” She came home with this tiny Maltese terrier – and I absolutely fell in love with him.
Until then, I wasn’t particularly an animal lover. I hadn’t grown up with animals; he was my first pet. It really changed my life, because if you are not surrounded by animals as a kid, having an animal as an adult makes you realise all the things you have missed. Tiger became everything to me.
He lived up to his name. He was a feisty little thing, endlessly yapping, but he was also as sweet as could be – and very pretty. He would be so pleased to see me. The minute I would come in from dance class, or wherever, there was this little animal jumping around my legs. It was almost like he was dancing with me. He just wanted lots of cuddles.
We loved going for walks. I was always really proud, because people would stop and say: “What a pretty dog!” I would let him off the lead at the park, but he always remained close by and didn’t run off. I have had dogs since and I have had to train them, but Tiger had a natural obedience and patience; he was so well behaved. I could take him to dance classes in a little basket – even fully grown, he was tiny – and he would sit still.
He had a basket by my bed. Sometimes he would jump on to the bed, but mostly he stayed tucked in his basket. I would talk to him. He was so small and looked so helpless, but, for a tiny dog, he had a really big personality.
We experience all kinds of love in our lives. When we are young – certainly for me – there is a great family love, but having Tiger was my first real experience of a new kind of love: caring for someone else more than you do about yourself. I suppose it’s devotion.
I had Tiger for six years. Then my dad moved to London and, because I was working more, looked after him during the day for the next couple of years, until Tiger became ill and then died. My dad wasn’t used to dogs, either, but Tiger became a good friend; the two of them were so sweet together.
One of the things that made our relationship so important was that Tiger had been given to me by a very special friend – and the greatest dance teacher I have ever come across. It will always live in my heart how grateful I was to have someone like Molly, who brought this little dog home for me, who realised that everybody needs a friend.
