Objects of affection

Mary Wakefield talks to Craigie Aitchison about Bedlingtons — and about his painting

By five o’clock last Thursday evening, Craigie Aitchison and I had been talking about dogs for nearly an hour. It was grey outside but, inside, the pink walls of Craigie’s sitting room glowed in the orange light of an electric fire, and I glowed, too, warmed by whisky and by the pleasure of a shared obsession. Mostly, we discussed Bedlingtons, the woolly, lamb-like terriers Craigie has owned and painted for more than 35 years, but Cairn terriers got a look in (‘My parents had them, but I never really liked them’) as did beagles (‘They make beagles smoke, don’t they? It’s a scandal!’). ‘Bedlingtons were bred to go down mines, you know,’ said 80-year-old Craigie in his soft, sing-song voice. And I sat at his feet and listened, blissful, as Christmas, his smallest dog, washed my ear with the patient determination of a nurse.