My first pet at home in Edinburgh was a dog my dad had called

In the words of Ronnie Corbett: “My first pet at home in Edinburgh was a dog my dad had called Glen. He was a small sheepdog and went with my dad every day to work as manager of a cooking centre, which made the children's lunches for schools.” At first, this tale seems simple—a fond memory of childhood, of a dog and his master. Yet when we listen with the ears of wisdom, we find within it a story of companionship, loyalty, and service. It is not only the story of a pet, but of the bond between humans and animals, and of the humble labors that sustain the lives of others.

The dog Glen, though small, was mighty in spirit. Each day he walked beside his master, faithfully attending him at his work. This is the image of loyalty that the ancients praised: the unwavering devotion of the companion who asks for no reward but to serve and to belong. Just as Argos, the hound of Odysseus, recognized his master after twenty years and remained faithful until his last breath, so too does Glen embody the eternal truth that animals carry within them a purity of devotion unmatched by men.

And what was the work of Corbett’s father? He managed a cooking centre, preparing meals for children at school. This was not the labor of kings or warriors, but of quiet service—feeding the young, sustaining the next generation. How fitting, then, that the sheepdog accompanied him, for the shepherd’s task has always been to guard and to guide. Together, man and dog labored not for riches, but for the nourishment of others. In this we see reflected the ancient ideal: that true greatness lies not in conquest, but in service.

Consider the story of Florence Nightingale, who walked among the wounded in the Crimean War, her lamp in hand. Like Corbett’s father, her work was humble yet vital—caring for the body so that the spirit might endure. She did not wield a sword, yet her service shaped generations of nurses and saved countless lives. So too did Corbett’s father, with his dog at his side, play a quiet part in sustaining life, giving strength to children through daily bread. In these stories, we are reminded that service, though humble, is the foundation of all society.

The bond of family also resounds within this memory. A boy watching his father depart each day with a loyal dog by his side carries away more than an image; he inherits a lesson. He learns that loyalty is sacred, that work done for others is honorable, and that joy can be found in the simplest companionship. Corbett’s fond recollection of Glen is not only about a pet, but about the shaping of character through daily witness to love, labor, and fidelity.

The meaning, then, is this: animals, like Glen, remind us of virtues we too easily forget—loyalty, presence, and trust. And the work of Corbett’s father reminds us that the worth of a life is not measured in fame or riches, but in the quiet service rendered to those who depend upon us. The child who receives a meal, the student who is nourished for a day of learning, may never know the hand that prepared it—but such unseen labor is the very backbone of civilization.

The lesson for us is clear: cherish the humble, honor the faithful, and see greatness not only in heroes of history but in the quiet guardians of daily life. Care for your companions, whether human or animal. Give your work, however small it may seem, with the dignity of service. For in every loaf baked, every child fed, every loyal friend at your side, you weave the fabric of love that endures beyond memory.

Thus, Corbett’s memory of his first pet is not simply nostalgia—it is a teaching. It tells us that home, loyalty, and service are treasures more enduring than wealth or power. Let us live by this: to walk faithfully beside those we love, to labor for the good of others, and to find joy in the simple bonds that make life whole. For in the footsteps of a small sheepdog named Glen lies the echo of timeless truth.