I had not heard of the name Christine Barrett during the first 40 years of her life; our first contact was in the very late 80’s, when a lady from Cheam filled in an application form to be a volunteer at Wildlife Aid. On the part of the form that asked ‘What is your availability?’ she had written 2hrs a week, every other Tuesday. And that’s where it all began for us…

Christine Barrett arrived at Wildlife Aid at one of the most formative times for the centre, which had only been a charity for a few years at that stage. During her first couple of years here, Christine grew and grew in stature; her 2 hours every other week soon became 3 or 4 hours every week, until she was with us fulltime.

I suppose I should feel guilty, taking Christine away from her very happy and close family life, but knowing how vital she had become to Wildlife Aid, I tried not to think about it too much at the time. It was hardly surprising that within a few years, having absorbed knowledge of wildlife and its care like a sponge, she became our very vital Senior Supervisor. Christine’s energy and expertise was astounding and although she never made a lot of noise about what she did, she was a veritable whirlwind around the hospital. Christine seemed to have a knack of being everywhere at once, knowing exactly which patient had what, and where it should be.

Over the 12 years she spent with us, Christine must have given so many wild creatures a second chance at life, that she will be remembered here forever. During those years, her role as Senior Supervisor also morphed into ‘TV personality extraordinaire’, as her skill and care along with her obvious love and devotion to wildlife was seen on television, starting in Easter 1997. Just like me, Christine was not immune from the occasional faux pas every now and then; on one occasion, whilst releasing a frog back into a local pond, Christine declared to the nation that although, following its unfortunate encounter with a cat, it now only had three legs, its fourth would grow back. However, after some very skilful editing, thankfully, her immortal words were not immortalised on the big screen… which is really quite upsetting, as all the mistakes I make always seem to ‘slip through’ the editor’s net!

Another of Christine’s pieces to camera that I remember ever so clearly, occurred when she and I were trying to identify one particular male badger from a group if eight. She plucked a black and white bundle from the ground, held it up to the camera, did a quick examination and declared ‘No, it’s not this one. If you look, you can see its clematis’. With that, she bent down and picked up several more, before suddenly announcing ‘This is the one! You can see its oh-be-joyfuls!’ That was our Christine all over.

Funnily enough, I was watching the DMAX channel on television a couple of nights ago and there was Christine, as large as life, working in her quietly efficient manner, on one of Wildlife Aid’s patients- they are still showing episodes from many years ago, so it feels, in a way, that she is still with us.

Bohemian to the core, Christine would always turn up for duty in her long floaty skirts, peculiar sandals, and with her  locks flowing halfway down her back. But never was she to be seen without a HUGE gold ring on her finger, adorned with a massive array of glittering stones set into its face, which always seemed somewhat paradoxical.

I would like, at this time, to send not only my heartfelt condolences to her husband and sons, knowing what an incredibly close family they were, but a huge thank you to them also, for lending us this very special lady for 12 years. She will be missed by so very many.

With love and affection.