Canine Partners

There are certain people in this life who make a contribution to the world in general, but who are too modest to acknowledge it, or take any credit. Bruce was one of those people. I honestly believe that the Charity would not be here today, were it not for Bruce in those early days. He was someone who worked behind the scenes rather than wanting to take the limelight. I clearly remember the day that Prince Harry came to visit us, back in 2010. Bruce’s children were young at the time, and eager to find out from Bruce what he had thought of Prince Harry, when he arrived back home from work. “I don’t know”, said Bruce, “I was too busy doing my work to take part in any of that – someone’s got to make sure the bills get paid on time, haven’t they?”.

He often described himself to me as a builder (he was an almost obsessive DIY-er in his spare time). I arrived at Canine Partners as a wet-behind-the-ears whippersnapper in 2006 and wasn’t sure what reception I’d get from older statesman Bruce. He took me to one side as I took over as Chief Executive and said “Andy, I’m a builder. If you give me a set of plans I like nothing better than to get my head down and build it for you – but don’t expect me to draw up any fancy plans in the first place!”.

In actual fact, Bruce was being modest. He had plenty of ideas, but he just enjoyed underselling himself. Typical of him was to describe himself as “the grey man in a suit in the colourful world of Canine Partners”. But the photo of him in fancy dress, in flamboyant Napoleon costume, tells a different story. As do the streams of emails that have come into me from staff, volunteers and supporters since the sad news of his passing, which describe a man of immense warmth, who is held in great affection by the Canine Partners family. Bruce always had time to listen to you, whoever you were, and his office was a place where you would gain some respite as well as some good old fashioned common sense.

The Napoleon thing wasn’t just a one-off appearance at a fancy dress party. Bruce lived and breathed the history of the Napoleonic era, and Napoleon was his hero. Talking with Marie, Bruce’s wife, earlier today, she described how it was typical of Bruce to have died of stomach cancer, just like his hero Napoleon (you’ll find various theories of Napoleon’s death, but I believe Bruce, as he know about these things).

The only real difference between Bruce and Napoleon was that Bruce wasn’t quite so keen on travelling! His aversion to planes was well-known, and he would always choose to drive anywhere instead. His driving was pretty quick, to be honest, so he normally got from A to B in a fast time (Formula 1 was another passion of Bruce’s). He also adopted an almost horizontal driving position, which meant you often thought the car was driving itself.

Above all, Bruce was a family man, and this shone through in everything he did. He always enjoyed telling me what his family were up to, and took great pride in his children, and delight in his grandchildren. One of Bruce’s grandchildren is disabled, so Bruce lived and breathed our Mission. The fact that one of Bruce’s sons is in the army, and had frequent tours in war zones, meant that we never placed Bruce’s phone number on our out-of-hours service, as we knew that he lived in fear of getting a phone call in the middle of the night – which meant I received all the calls about blocked drains, and alarms having been set off by cats! It was the family side of Bruce that added so much to Canine Partners too. He looked on us as his extended family, and brought the family-feel into the workplace. Just
one example of this was his annual ritual of writing a Christmas limerick which he inserted into everybody’s pre-Christmas pay packet. He was a poet but he didn’t know it. I tried to keep the tradition going after his retirement, but I was second-rate in comparison with Bruce. (Plus, he’d already used up all the words that rhymed with ‘Noël’).

It is testament to Bruce that no fewer than four Chairs and former Chairs of Canine Partners attended his funeral today, as well as staff, former staff, volunteers, and of course dogs. It is thanks to Bruce that the Charity exists today, and that it will transform the lives of thousands of disabled people over the years to come. That’s some achievement, and something to be very proud of.

Thank you Bruce Jenkins.

Andy