This post’s title of course refers to the eponymous and most memorable film,
the 1962 American psychological thriller,
about two completely bats American film stars
played by ageing American film stars Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.
And you know what? They were not too far off being completely bats themselves!
But I thought of it yesterday.
I had walked through the mist across the lawns from a Big House
Down the broad flight of steps
through a veil of monumentally gloomy conifers into an open space.
The ha ha and the parkland lay beyond:
But in front of me was a grave yard.
The sort that you find in many a large Uk country house.
Much loved pets, (dogs mostly – UK aristos are doggy people), generations of them, with little headstones.
‘Satin’ caught my eye as a lovely name for an animal which said something of its character and coat.
But the memorable one was:
‘Baby Jane’ died aged 13 in 1945. A goodly age for a dog.
I suspect Baby Jane led a much less tortured existence than the character in the US film. Hearty food, a daily walk with the mistress of the house and a basket by a roaring fire in the library at night. What dog could ask for more?
The gravestone says it all. The Brits and their pets!