Growing up in Calcutta (as it was then known) my parent’s greatest friends were the Wright family. The Wrights adored animals, especially the big cats. Going around to their house in Ballygunge you might find yourself sharing the sofa with a mongoose or the swing seat with a tiger cub (which quickly grew into a tiger teenager, as they do) or lounging in the garden with a baby leopard. There were of course the usual domestic animals too; horses, dogs, cats - they loved them all.
Annie Wright was my brother Simon’s godmother. One holiday Annie invited Simon and my other brother Charles to stay at a wildlife camp. A fully grown female Bengal tiger also happened to be resident.
One day early on in their stay, brother Charles was doing his business in the bathroom, having sadly failed to lock the door. The tiger (which cannot be blamed) seeking respite from the heat, came in, knocked over a large pale of water and not minding anyone’s business but her own, proceeded to lie down in the cool pool and there she stayed.
Charles was rooted to the pot.
Now a fully grown Bengal tiger is not to be argued with. She was an alarming sight, now not two feet away from where brother Charles was finishing his business in double quick time. It is unlikely Charles would ever have made a tasty dinner but he didn’t know that at the time. Rumour has it he sat there for many hours, terrified to move a muscle, though that part of the story may have been embellished. Suffice to say the close encounter caused much mirth in camp that evening.
