Rover — man's best lunch

Press, 21 February 1986, Page 18

Rover — man's best lunch

The use of dogs for food is still practised is some parts of the world — whatever we may think of it, it is a fact of life. After all, it is no harder on the poor dog than it is on the sheep and cows and chickens and pigs that form a regular part of the menu for most New Zealanders. Most people are aware that the Maori of pre-European times ate the Polynesian dog, or kuri. But there are historical records which show that the consumption of dogs was also practised by Europeans when the necessity arose. The first non-Polynesian dog of which we have any record of its coming to New Zealand was a bitch called Lady (breed unrecorded) which accompanied its owner, Sir Joseph Banks, on Cook’s first voyage in the Endeavour. Lady died of natural causes before she reached home again — but at least she escaped the cooking pot. George Forster's* dog, on Cook’s second voyage, was not so fortunate. On Sunday, February 27, 1774, Cook recorded in his journal: “1 was now taken ill of the Billions colick and so Violent as to confine me to my bed ... it was several days before the more dangerous symptoms of my disorder were removed ... When 1 began to recover, a favourite dog belonging to Mr Forster fell a Sacrifice to my tender Stomack;' we had no other fresh meat whatever on board and I could eat of this flesh as well as a broth made of it, when I could taste nothing else ..." History does not record what Forster thought about this. A little over 70 years latw, in 1847, Thomas Brunner, soaked, cold, and starving together with

his Maori companions on the West Coast, wrote in his diary on May 23: "Hunger again compelled us to shift our quarters in search of food, but finding none, I was compelled though very reluctantly, to give my consent to killing my dog Rover. The flesh of a dog is very palatable, tasting something between mutton and pork. It is too richly flavoured to eat by itself."

In a letter to William Fox, written from Taramakau on October 4, Brunner said: "I was driven by hunger to allow the natives to kill the dog Rover given me by Gibson." The fact that Brunner gave his consent, and, as a European actually ate the dog meat, clearly impressed itself upon the Maoris of the area. In March, 1860, Julius Haast, travelling through the same area as Brunner and also somewhat short of rations, wrote: "I looked with interest at the numerous tracks of the wild dog, which here, abounded on the sand, and would much liked to have caught one, which I should have eaten without fearing the nickname of kai-kuri (dog-eater), applied by the natives to the first explorer of this country."

Poor old Brunner. Remembered not for his epic journey through an unknown wilderness, but because, when in dire straits, he ate his dog. The thing that has always puzzled me about that rather laconic entry in Brunner’s journal is not the act itself — that is understandable - but the fact that

Brunner could go on to discuss, with some relish, just how Rover tasted. The dog had, after all, been his companion on that trip for six months and for another six months on an earlier West Coast trip which Brunner made in the company of Charles Heaphy. An entry in the journal of the survey ship Acheron, which called at Nelson in 1849, may go some way to explaining it. The record for August 25 notes: "One of our ‘long shore' ramblers the other day fell in with a very intelligent Scotchman .. .(who) praised the great dog at his side as a most sagacious retriever. ‘Yet is he,' said (he), ‘in no wise to be compared with that I lent Mr Brunner which he shot and eat on the shores of Roto Ma. ‘Twas ungrateful too — for when Brunner had nothing to eat the good dog would start away into the bush hunting for half a day together and never showed again without a woodhen in his jaws. Ah, as I just said, ‘twas a cruel job."

So Rover did not die unmourned. A marginal note in the Acheron manuscript states that Brunner claimed it was his dbg, but if it was indeed Mr Gibson’s then it may go part way to explaining Brunner’s apparent indifference, despite his protestations of reluctance. Whatever the truth of the matter, I suspect that I am the worst person to pass judgment, as a dog owner and lover myself, and never having been placed in 4, the unenviable position of having I to make such a difficult decision. —Beverley McCullough