Jan Smuts and Rusty

by Bob Rosslee

I can’t tell the story about my dog that walked up Table Mountain with Jan Smuts, without telling the story about the 1941 Buick. It was a fantastic car, full of chrome and all that. But where we stayed high up on Kloof Nek Road — it was a bit heavy on petrol and I put it up for sale. 

This guy rolled up on a Friday evening in a Brebner Old Boys’ tie - the school I went to in Bloemfontein - and we immediately hit it off. Eventually, we had a beer. Then he said, “Man, I'm interested. I love your car. Can I take it to show my wife and bring it back tomorrow?” I said, “Yes, sure.” Weeks went by and I never heard from him or saw the car. 

The cops came knocking on my door with a warrant for my arrest. I said, “What for?” He said that I’d filled up a tank of petrol in Milnerton and drove off giving a false IOU. I explained the situation about what happened to the Buick and got the story from the cops about this blinking rogue of a Brebner Old Boy.

In Milnerton and short of petrol, the rogue spotted the manager coming out of his office for lunch, and slaps him on the back and is all Mr Familiar, but the manager has no idea who he is. So he fills up a tank of petrol and then when it comes to paying says “Oh, hell! I left my wallet at home. Your boss and I are good friends. I’ll go fetch my wallet and be back shortly and I’ll write you an IOU.”  Fortunately, the petrol attendant had the presence of mind to take his number plate down  — my number plate.

So the cops accepted my explanation, but we still didn't know where my car was. Then one of the guys that worked for me at Eskom says “Mr. Rosslee. Your Buick. What’s it doing in my street in Ottery? Do you have a friend nearby?” I said “Don't tell me! Are you sure?” I went there with him and the guy wasn't there. But his mother-in-law was there watching the screaming children. She said he was out, so I waited and I waited and I waited.

It was a cold, wintry day and I was still sitting on his stoep, waiting for him. At about 12 o'clock another guy rolls up and knocks on the door. “Who are you looking for?” I asked him and he told me. When I told him he wasn’t in he said, “He’s got my car!”. I said, “What do you mean, ‘He's got your car?’.” He said, “I bought a car from him and he never handed it over.”

“A Buick?” I asked him and he nodded.

Turns out the bugger sold my car to this guy and then said “Oh no, this tire… I must get it fixed. I’m a man of honour and I can’t sell you a car with a gammy tire.” You guessed it, the guy that bought the car, my car, never saw it again. And here he was in Ottery chasing down the same thing as me.

So the two of us waited together for the so-and-so to arrive. Me, and a second-hand furniture salesman with a shop on Wynberg Main Road. At about three o'clock he came home, full of liquor with his wife. I grabbed him and I was gonna give him a bunch of fives. And this guy I was waiting with said “No, no, no, wait, he’s got nice furniture here. I’ll get my money back… I’ll attach his furniture.”

Remember, I was keen to sell the car and the furniture salesman said he was still keen to buy it. So I went around to his house, and we fixed everything up for the sale of the car. He said, “Wait, I'm gonna give you something else if you’re interested,” and he gave me an Irish Setter puppy. He had a litter of them. He then took me and the puppy home to Kloof Nek — in my own car. 

So I ended up with this blinking puppy that grew up to be a lovely dog. We named him Rusty. Every so often he would go AWOL following someone up the mountain, and he would come down wherever they came down. Platteklip, India Venster, Kloof Corner, I bet he did them all. I’d then get a phone call - he had a tag around his neck of course - and I’d go and fetch him. Often he’d be down in Camps Bay and when I got there Rusty would just jump in the car, looking ahead, like we both knew the drill.

One day I was on Kloof Nek Road with the boys when, believe it or not, General Smuts came walking down with Rusty. When he realised it was my dog he grinned and said “Your dog followed me right up to the top of the mountain, and now he’s followed me right back down.” 

Jan Smuts was a ferocious walker and loved the mountain. In 1947, the King and Queen came to South Africa on a royal visit to thank those who served in World War 2, and he arranged to meet them up on Table Mountain. Well, the Royals of course rode the cable car while Smuts, still the Prime Minister and well into his seventies, walked up the mountain to meet them, and then walked back down.

It was not my first time meeting General Jan Smuts as we crossed paths during the war. I was in the Air Force, stationed on a Spitfire base in Staglioni in Italy and in 1944 he checked in on us. I requested an RTU - a Return To Union - from him, as I had some family issues back home. He took my details and said he’d get back to me, but he never did. I could hardly give him a hard time about that though — he brought back my dog…

Rusty had little interest in who his walking companion was that day and simply bolted past me, down the road towards our house and ran inside. That dog gave me grey hairs I tell you.

As told by Bob Rosslee and transcribed and edited by his grandsons Gareth Rosslee and Nic Rosslee.