He started his life with us on the road, on a journey in the back of my old van to what was to become his home for the next twelve-odd years. A small, timid bundle of soft black hair snuggled up to a toy we had left with the breeder a week before, to help the transition from familiar litter to new life. He looked nervous and a little sad but once on the motorway the gentle motion and soothing vibration soon took over and he drifted into sleep. At home he gulped at the mountainous climb from the patio to our lawn; the four inch step of paving came up to his chin. Jack wasn’t the biggest Labrador puppy in the litter and when we first saw him the other puppies clearly dominated. I worried that he would be too faint-hearted to be a ‘proper’ dog.
What I’d forgotten was the ‘Truck Driver – New Lorry’ syndrome: a gentle climb into the cab, a soft stroke of the wheel and a tentative push of a couple of buttons. Roll on twenty-four hours and it’s as if they had been together for ever. The air-conditioning is just right and all the radio station buttons have been pre-set. The sleeper looks like a Bedouin encampment and a few stickers have appeared, not to mention aerials, a kitchen and home entertainment. By the next day, Jack had moved in.
What I’d forgotten was the ‘Truck Driver – New Lorry’ syndrome: a gentle climb into the cab, a soft stroke of the wheel and a tentative push of a couple of buttons. Roll on twenty-four hours and it’s as if they had been together for ever. The air-conditioning is just right and all the radio station buttons have been pre-set. The sleeper looks like a Bedouin encampment and a few stickers have appeared, not to mention aerials, a kitchen and home entertainment. By the next day, Jack had moved in.
It wasn’t long before the patio step became an irrelevance – Jack didn’t touch the ground between back door and lawn. He would spring onto the garden fence and balance, as if on a tight rope, while choosing which one of next doors’ cats to harass. We finally resorted to six-foot fencing, which consisted of two tiers of three-foot pig wire mounted on rustic posts. When my wife asked the man in the shop why no one made six-foot pig wire, she was asked how many pigs she knew that could jump six-feet. Jack shrugged off his new confinement with a resolve to be twice the rascal when taken out for a walk. He gained a reputation that was to stay with him well beyond puppyhood, to a time when, ‘Oh no, it’s Jack’ became an unnecessary and totally undeserved greeting from the other dog walkers we knew.
In 1996 ERF went to Western Star (Canada) and Jack travelled the country from Snowdonia to London, from Devon to Drumnadrocket. He was a typical driver’s mate and spent the best part of any journey sleeping. When tiredness came upon me and I just wanted to arrive at the day’s destination, he would snore just to rub it in. By autumn I had driven my first Daf 95 and completely forgotten that ERF had emigrated. Jack scattered the leaves I had spent hours raking into neat little piles and chased the brush on the end of my yard broom every time I tried to use it. He could have fun with just about anything that came his way, and I had fun watching. Before the year was up, the theory test had been introduced for new drivers and I had learnt a lot about companionship.
One year on and Iveco Ford had ceased production of trucks at Langley and Leyland Daf had gone west, to Paccar. Seat belts were made compulsory for all coaches used to carry children. While Jack reached full size, unrestrained - a magnificent picture of health and happiness - 3,599 people were killed on our roads and 42,967 were seriously injured. I looked to repair the chewed skirting boards that were victims of his puppy teeth but in the end to save time, I just slapped a bit of paint on them. They are still there today, but now it is not time that stops me from making a more permanent repair, it’s the memories.
1998 marked the opening of the Newbury bypass – and a security bill for £30 million. Jack developed a sixth sense for trouble, creating most of it himself but proving a valuable guard against that originating elsewhere. He would shoulder barge anyone that he didn’t like the look of and who came too close. Once at an acceptable distance, he would fix the would-be villain with a stare from hell. Jack earned his keep.
1999. The Government produced a white paper titled, ‘A New Deal for Transport – Better for Everyone’ and opened a new bus lane on the M4, so that Jack could spend more time looking at the planes flying in and out of Heathrow. He also continued to prove his credentials as crew member. If sticky buns were in the offing the largest would always disappear, literally without trace. Even those put out of harm’s way, never were. From July all driving licences issued were of the photo card type. By this time Jack, who was never before allowed on the furniture, had commandeered a leather chair in our dining room. It suited him perfectly, and so it became his.
The ownership of ERF transferred to MAN in 2000, the same year that the blockade of oil refineries by lorry drivers and farmers sparked panic buying of fuel. Britain had consistently higher diesel prices than elsewhere in Europe. The price of a tin of Chum was not affected as the country prepared to grind to a halt – which in the end, it didn’t. We failed to take a lead from the French who not only build taller trucks than anyone else – so you get more poor reliability for your money – they also know how to bring a country to its knees. For us, the protest fizzled out and we continued to pay over the odds for fuel. The Dft published its strategy, ‘Tomorrows Roads – Safer for Everyone’, and a consultation paper, ‘Road Traffic Penalties’. ‘Poo’ bins were installed on common land near our home and Jack did his bit to keep them filled.
2001 saw the introduction of a new number plate system. Two letters for region, two numbers for year and a further three letters for uniqueness. Not for the first time, Jack spent his summer holidays on a different type of road. He walked the East Devon Way, a long distance footpath that runs from Lyme Regis to Exmouth. At night his shelter was the corner of a two-man tent. He would unzip the tent flap using his nose and climb in when he was ready for bed, and then gradually evict me from my roll mat during the night. He spent each day out in front, on point.
By 2002 Oshkosh had replaced Scammell as the prime mover in the British army’s tank transport fleet. Jack was now seven years old and a few grey hairs were appearing. Vauxhall ceased production of cars at their Luton plant and Jack began to mellow with age. He no longer had to vie for position all the time, he didn’t even need to be in front – but he was still the best.
Jack pre-empted most New Year's with a Christmas that involved ripping open presents. He loved tearing up the little packages of treats we gave him nearly as much as he loved devouring what was in them. In 2003 congestion charging was introduced in London which, contrary to what the title suggests, was a levy on motorists for using their cars. The use of hand-held mobile phones while driving was banned and the M6 toll road opened. Jack finished the year with several Chum bones and a few packets of Sizzlers.
In 2004 Jaguar stopped producing cars in Coventry and in 2005 Rover Group went bankrupt. Jack trickled along being Jack.
2006 saw the introduction of the long awaited digital tachograph. Instead of inserting a paper chart into an instrument the driver now used a smart card. Digital tachograph cards are manufactured with more security features than the average credit card. Jack ripped open a packet of dry food and helped himself, totally ignoring the instruction to ‘use scissors and cut along the dotted line’. Foden stopped new vehicle production almost unlamented, except by an ageing lorry driver and his black and grey Labrador.
In 2007 the rules changed. Drivers hours regulation 3820/85 was replaced with 561/2006, which involved little difference overall but some significant change in detail. Towards the end of the year Jack started to have fits. We took him to see a specialist vet and he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. After giving Jack a cursory look, they closely examined our insurance policy before deciding that they could operate on it. He underwent radiotherapy, as well as being prescribed drugs to control his condition. Initially there was little noticeable difference in his character, but in time things started to happen. I could tell towards the end that it was all getting too much for him, and I knew that soon enough, I would have to make another journey to the vet.
Jack died in 2008. He ended his life with us on the road, on a journey in the back of my old van.
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