Murder in the Village, my latest book, contains dogs – a lot of dogs. I love dogs, always have, always will. When I was around six years old, I was bitten by an aunt’s dog, not a pleasant memory, nor indeed a happy introduction to all things canine. At least we were only a short dripping wound away from St. Thomas’ hospital, one of London’s finest. Did it put me off dogs? Of course not. Around the same time, my brother shot me in the eye with an arrow, and we still speak. Why take something as innocuous as a nibble on the arm so seriously?
Not long after the arrow in the eyeball incident and another trip to Accident and Emergency, another aunt talked my parents into taking on a black Labrador called Major. My brother – when he wasn’t trying to maim me – and I gave the usual chorus of ‘Mum, mum, can we keep him, pleeeease? We’ll walk him every day.’ My parents gave in, probably more due to the threat that he might have to be put to sleep if he had nowhere else to go, rather than because of our empty promises to regularly exercise him. Major was the most wonderful family pet and was loved and cherished until he passed many years later.
I joined the police in 1996 and although I would have loved another dog, I lived in a modest apartment and worked shifts, so knew how impractical this would be. My husband was also a police officer, so we knew this wasn’t going to be something that was likely to happen any day soon. In the meantime, we filled our dogless evenings with trips to the pub and watching television. On one of these evenings, we watched Laurel and Hardy’s short film Laughing Gravy and without hesitation, I knew that would be our new dog’s name. Many years later, we bought a beautiful fox red Labrador puppy and named him Laughing Gravy.
LG, as he was affectionately known, was our world. He made us laugh, made us rush home, plan events and holidays around him, and he ruled our lives. Despite knowing a dog’s life expectancy, I couldn’t see a time without him. He was always chilled, never failed to let us know if someone had the audacity to walk along our street and adored everyone and everything – except for cats and squirrels.
Sadly, cancer took him far too early and in late 2019, he was gone. We were devastated and faced a Labrador shaped hole in our lives. Hearts still bruised and fragile, we decided that the best thing to do was to foster a dog and give a home to one that otherwise would find themselves living in kennels, hanging around by the bars waiting for someone to adopt them.
Before long, a local charity in southeast England vetted us and took us on. We waited with much excitement until the call came and we were asked to foster a gorgeous chocolate Labrador from a family close to where we lived. The tale they told was that they’d got him from the internet and while no money had exchanged hands, they couldn’t cope with him. We took him home, with all intentions of fostering him. The late, great Laughing Gravy had left big paws to fill. That was in February 2020. While I promise not to mention the C word again, the pandemic hit the UK in March 2020, meaning potential adopters couldn’t visit to see if sweet and gentle Barney was a good fit for them.
By May 2020, we had adopted Barney and he will stay with us forever. He’s still a very nervous, yet incredibly loving boy. I dread to think what’s happened to him over the years to make him so. What I do know, is that he’ll want for nothing.
Dogs feature heavily in my new book, something that came about partly due to my love for our furry friends, and due to the amount of pet thefts in the UK. The price of puppies has soared since lockdown, bringing about a spike in dog thefts as some monopolise on making a fast and unscrupulous profit by stealing family members.
I really hate being without a dog in my life, so can’t imagine the upset if someone snatched him. I still have the physical scars from one of my first dog interactions and carry the emotional ones of having to say goodbye to Laughing Gravy far too soon.
Lisa Cutts is a full-time detective constable investigating murders for a living. When off duty she writes a fictitious version of her day job. She lives and works within the county of Kent with her husband and Labrador.
She is the author of the DC Nina Foster books, Never Forget and Remember, Remember. Never Forgot was longlisted for the Waverton Good Read Award 2013 and the winner of the Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Award 2014 for Best Thriller. She has also written four books in the East Rise Incident Room series, Mercy Killing, Buried Secrets, Lost Lives and Don’t Trust Him. All four centre around DI Harry Powell and his Major Crime Team battling to solve the latest murders within the county. Currently she is writing the Little Challham mysteries, cosy mysteries set in a fictional village in Kent.
She writes a monthly column, Behind the Tape, for Writing Magazine answering police procedural questions from other writers. In early 2016, she was honoured to become the Patron of Rochester Literature Festival and help establish Murderous Medway, an annual crime fiction festival packed full of amazing author panels. As well as being on BBC Radio 4’s Open Book, Lisa has twice appeared on This Morning to chat about TV crime dramas Broadchurch and Line of Duty.
