The Railway Dog
About an hour’s drive east of Melbourne lies the beautiful Dandenong Ranges. Tree ferns line the gullies while eucalypts take the higher ground and dominate the skyline. If you wander far enough from the nearest road, the only thing you’re likely to hear is the screech of the occasional cockatoo or, if you’re lucky, the diverse song of that elusive forest mimicker, the lyrebird.
Punctuating the tranquillity every once in a while, is a steam whistle. This is Puffing Billy, Australia’s much loved and best-preserved heritage steam train.
Puffing Billy
In the early 1890s, with the depression in full swing, the Victorian government was forced to curtail its aggressive rollout of new train lines. The previous five years had seen over 1200 miles of railway track added to the growing network across the colony, but now, faced with limited funds, they could not even manage to add another 50 miles a year. A cheaper solution was needed.
Narrow-gauge lines were seen as the answer. These smaller tracks could be built with tighter curves and steeper gradients making them less expensive to construct. Four such lines were built in Victoria from the late 1890s to the early 1900s, including one in the Dandenong Ranges. This became known as the Puffing Billy line.
Locomotives started hauling timber, produce and people on this line in 1900 and continued doing so for decades. Lionel ‘Dickie’ Down was one of the engine drivers in the 1920s. He and his wife had no children, but one day a stray black and white dog with a curly tail wandered into their home and into their lives. They named him Jerry.
Jerry the Railway Dog, as depicted in The Argus, 19 Aug 1950
Jerry would often ride with Dickie in the engine along the 18-mile track. Sometimes he would jump out and race the train, often taking shortcuts across gullies only to join the train again further along the track once it had finally caught up. He was known to take a wash in the fire buckets at stations along the line in hot weather and then, because he clearly knew a thing or two about basic hygiene, would quench his thirst from a different bucket. Chasing rabbits became a pastime.
Jerry became part of the scenery. Locals knew him by name and would leave food or milk for him. Sadly, one day while chasing a rabbit across the line, Jerry got too close to the engine and was struck and killed. Dickie and his wife Beatrice were devastated. And the wider community too were hit hard. Interstate newspapers even picked up the story and published tributes. Jerry, the railway dog, was laid to rest beside the railway line close to where he died.
Jerry’s grave as seen today
Puffing Billy continues to curl its way through the mountains following the same path that was cut through the forest 125 years ago. Today it runs as a tourist train and passengers no longer share their cars with farm produce, mailbags and barrels of beer.
If you travel on Puffing Billy today, with your legs obligatorily dangling from the sills, just out of Cockatoo you might spot the little grave of Jerry, the railway dog, still lovingly maintained after more than 90 years.
A few years ago, a couple of guys opened a tavern in Emerald, one of the small towns that Puffing Billy passes through. When brainstorming names for the new venture, they recalled the story of Jerry and how he was part of the history of the town. Tonight, after a long workday, the locals will drop in for a refreshing pint at The Railway Dog. And some may even raise a glass to Jerry.
