Hollywood (Jan - Mar 1943)

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^ e> & ■ Until six months ago Rhodes neither spinned nor toiled. He had no duties, except to maintain by his behaviour the prestige of his ancient lineage, his heritage of fearlessness, and his impeccable reserve. Then there came a day when the latch on a garden gate clicked, a car drove away, and a girl could no longer restrain her tears. At that precise moment, Rhodes became for the duration, the guardian of Brenda Marshall, the woman Bill Holden loved and left to serve his country. Rhodes is a Rhodesian lion dog. His native land is Africa. He is snow-white, his eyes are black and the lids so sooty-rimmed that they look as if they are the product of Perc Westmore's make-up skill. He is smooth, massive and muscular. The Rhodesian is a hunter, the only dog with courage enough to tackle a lion in a fair fight. Originally, he had a lion's ruff on his head, an inheritance from his lion forebear. But eventually that was bred out. The courage remained. In Rhodes that courage is coupled with an active sense of responsibility and a human quality of pity and understanding. That first night Brenda was alone — and it was a long and sleepless night — Rhodes refused to remain in his customary place in the yard. He hurled himself against a French window, broke it, and came lumbering in to settle himself at her bedroom door. There he remained until dawn. Since then, Rhodes has established a routine for himself. He has permanently abandoned his own special quarters in an elegant dog-house. The moment Brenda goes to her room he stretches out in the patio below her window. Through the night, he makes a periodic inspection of the grounds, to make certain there are no intruders anywhere. He uncannily divides the night hours into regular periods — so many hours below Brenda's window, and so many hours beneath the window of the room in which the baby sleeps. The nights on which the servants are out, and the two so dear to Bill are alone in the house, Rhodes insists on coming inside. Part of the night he spends in the library, directly across from Brenda's room. If the door is closed, he scratches until it is opened and remains that way through the night. When Ginger and her mother are alone, their bedroom doors are wide open. Rhodes sees to that. In the night he walks first into one bedroom, then into the other to make certain they are both safe. Then he goes back to his vantage point. He sleeps with one eye open. Before Bill left, Rhodes was unconcerned about visitors, delivery boys, telegraph messengers or door-bell ringers. Today it's worth as much as a pound of your flesh to go beyond the front gate. Some months ago, Helen Craig, John Beal's wife, came to spend the afternoon JANUARY, 1943 & &*&*** Brenda Marshall's dog, Rhodes, appointed himself her guardian the day husband William Holden joined the Army. Brenda's in Background to Danger with Brenda. Now Helen and Rhodes had been friends ever since he became a member of the Holden household a year ago. But this was her first visit since Bill's absence. Rhodes stood squarely at the gate, barred her way. "You know me, Rhodes. Nice doggie." "Doggie" didn't budge. He looked apologetic but determined. Helen used a neighbor's phone, and Brenda met her at the gate. It is now an established procedure for guests to telephone Brenda the approximate time of their arrival. She waits for them in the driveway. Frequently Rhodes' guard duty causes complications. Recently, Brenda was beside herself with worry because an expected telegram from Bill hadn't arrived. The following morning, Brenda went to her mail box, and found a notice stating that a telegram was being held for her at the office. You guessed it! Rhodes had scared off boy and telegram. Rhodes' duties of guardianship extend beyond the limits of home. He has constituted himself Brenda's protector on shopping tours, errands, and calls. His knowledge of Brenda's schedule for the day is uncanny. If she is to be at the studio, then he watches her drive away in perfect contentment. But at other times, when she has a lot of running around to do, he leaps into the car, and sits there solidly. All blandishments, all forceful efforts to make him remain at home are without avail. Occasionally, the protection has embarrassing results. While shopping at one of the large shops, Brenda had asked that her purchases be placed in her car. When she was through with her chores, she went to the car and discovered that nary a parcel was there. After half an hour of scurrying around, she discovered that Rhodes had refused to let anyone near the car. Now Brenda carries her own parcels. When Bill came home on leave, Rhodes took a vacation. He re-established himself in his own comfortable quarters and slept through the night. Rhodes was back on the job when Bill left. "That Rhodes takes his duties seriously," says Brenda.* "He is a daily lesson in loyalty. "Rhodes isn't a dog. He's a member of the Holden family." Q| 41