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I’ve got four dogs in my office today, and they’re drinking water exceptionally loudly – sorry if you happen to hear that…”
It’s a particularly fitting opening gambit from James Middleton, the considerably lower-profile younger brother of Catherine, the Princess of Wales. Fitting, because he’s chatting to me over Zoom from his Berkshire farmhouse to promote his new book, Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life. It charts the 37-year-old’s life from childhood, taking in the extraordinary shift as his sister became one of the most famous women on the planet, his successful forays into entrepreneurialism after swapping university for the world of business, and his sudden, cliff-edge plummet into clinical depression and subsequent recovery. But, as the title would suggest, it is just as much a story about his beloved hound, Ella, and how she helped bring him back from the brink.
I actually can’t hear his menagerie slaking their thirst but I do get to see one of them. I can’t help letting out a squeal of delight as she jumps onto his lap and her sleek, honey-hued head pops into view. “This is Mabel,” he says, smoothing her silky ears, and I feel myself getting misty-eyed. I was already “dog broody”; reading James’s book has tipped me over the edge into a full-blown obsession.
For him, dogs were always the ultimate prize. From a young age, he lobbied his parents so vehemently that they eventually capitulated to his demands, bringing home beloved family golden retriever Tilly when he was 13. The book gives the impression of an idyllic childhood worthy of an Enid Blyton novel – days spent on muddy country rambles, tinkering with tractor engines and taking diligent care of a roster of pets. Still, James felt like he didn’t fit in at school, being far more interested in nature and machinery than the Premier League or, indeed, getting stuck into book-learning. It didn’t help that his two older sisters – Catherine and Pippa – breezed through it all, garnering top grades and sporting accolades as they went.
“It’s forever frustrating to be compared,” he says now. “I think it was challenging for my parents, because they saw my sisters flourish and go through that schooling system without any hiccups or any real challenges.” Teachers were also confused by his lack of academic and rugby prowess, incredulously asking, “Are you sure you’re a Middleton?”
James was the undeniable underdog of the clan. He did “so badly” in his final exams (including setting a new school record of failing chemistry four times) that, he writes in Meet Ella, “my poor mum is reduced to tears. Dad says my expensive education has been a ‘waste of money’.”
“In my mind, the exams failed me,” he muses. “I don’t think the examining board were able to get the best out of me – it was a one-size-fits-all approach.” As an adult, James discovered that, in addition to dyslexia, he has Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) – something that severely impacted his ability to focus and study when he was growing up, and which has continued to affect him into adulthood. You can almost see it in conversation: James speaks slowly, deliberately, pausing frequently to ensure he plucks precisely the right words or phrasing from the ether. One gets the impression that his mind is working much faster, whizzing off in myriad directions while he exercises mastery and restraint over what comes out of his mouth.
He sincerely hopes that, by the time his one-year-old son, Inigo, goes to secondary school, “the national curriculum is completely ripped up and changed because it is such an archaic, not-fit-for-purpose structure.” Rather than teaching children how to regurgitate an answer and pass an exam, he passionately believes that children should be taught how to think critically and apply their knowledge.
“I feel like school and society’s expectation of you is like a round hole – and if you’re a round peg, it’ll be a pleasant experience,” James tells me. “If you’re a different shape, all that they do is try to shave off the edges to make you fit.”
By the time he went to Edinburgh University, James was already having misgivings about whether higher education was the right pathway. He’d also made the decision to get his own dog – unheard of for a student. Enter Ella, the second protagonist of this story: a jet-black cocker spaniel puppy who was to forever alter the course of his life. It was, perhaps, a subconscious acknowledgement that James wasn’t destined to finish his degree; he wanted a different kind of life altogether. Much to his parents’ disappointment, he dropped out to pursue his entrepreneurial vision and start a cake-making business.
In my mind, the exams failed me. I don’t think the examining board were able to get the best out of me
What followed was a whirlwind period in his twenties, undoubtedly made headier and more surreal by the fact that his big sister was dating, and then engaged to, actual royalty. As a frequent overnight guest at the Middleton family flat in Chelsea, London, where his two sisters were living in 2010, James saw much of Catherine’s courtship with the heir to the throne. “By now, William has been dating Catherine for six years, so I know him well and there is no scramble to clear up when he comes to supper,” writes James in the book. “But I remember putting him through his paces when we first met. Did he deserve my sister?”
As in all things, Ella was the ultimate arbiter. She’d already given her verdict on several of James’s girlfriends, maintaining an aloofness that revealed her true thoughts on their suitability. But William was “so genuinely fond of Ella”, all doubts were assuaged. Yet it obviously wasn’t like bringing home a regular boyfriend to meet the family. The paparazzi pursued the couple “tirelessly”; James writes of losing count of the number of times he walked out of the front door “to find a sea of photographers on the doorstep, bitterly disappointed that it is me, rather than William”.
It is clear, in both the affectionate way James writes and speaks of his older sisters, that the three of them remain close. By turns exasperated and fiercely protective, Catherine and Pippa have always looked out for their at times wayward little brother. He is protective in turn; I’ve been asked in advance not to pry when it comes to the princess’s health following her cancer diagnosis, revealed earlier this year (“James would rather not talk about his family”, is how the request is delicately put).
The royal connection, combined with his own upper-class friends and high-end clientele (by this point James had pivoted to delivering bespoke biscuits for glitzy events), saw him get invited to the kind of London parties that grace the pages of Tatler. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and reluctant, he would attend only if Ella was allowed to attend as his plus one. “I’m definitely not a social butterfly!” he admits. “I enjoy social occasions, but I don’t necessarily flourish in them. But with Ella around, the focus would be on her. She was a talking point, and she was also my excuse to be able to leave…”
This scene was oddly juxtaposed with a period in which James was skint while building his business. He recounts returning home after ostentatious events to eat a giant bowl of pasta and pesto to save money. “I realised it wasn’t completely me,” he says of the party period. “I’m happier with my sleeves rolled up, covered in engine oil, drinking around a tractor on a Friday night, than I would be in a room full of people who are there to be seen to be there.” This vision of him very much tracks with the man I meet over video chat: bearded, ruggedly handsome and tanned from time spent outdoors, he’s sporting a comfortable-looking pale denim shirt with the sleeves literally rolled up. He looks ready to sling on a Barbour jacket and take the dogs out for a country yomp.
During this time of “experimentation”, James met the actor Donna Air at a private members club. The pair bonded over – what else? – their shared love of dogs and embarked upon a five-year relationship. By all accounts, James had built a good life for himself: a stable partner, a flourishing business, a close-knit bond with friends and family. Which made it all the more incomprehensible when his mental health took an unexpected nose-dive for the first time.
“Depression is challenging for anyone, because on the outside you can look perfectly fine,” he says. “I didn’t feel like I had the right to have depression or anxiety. I’ve had a very privileged upbringing; I couldn’t have been more lucky in that respect.” James had previously thought depression had to have a specific cause – “a major tragedy” – but, for him, “it was not a sharp bite – it was continuous, little bee stings.”
I lost all sense of emotion. I felt all the colour being sapped from the world
Rather than feeling sad, what he felt was nothing: “I lost all sense of emotion. I felt all the colour being sapped from the world.” James shut out his loved ones, making excuses not to meet up with them; he broke up with Donna, unable to see a way forward. At his lowest point, when he was having suicidal thoughts, the only thing that gave life meaning and purpose was Ella. “She was the one being that didn’t care about any of it. I could be entirely myself in front of her, and she would be delighted just by my presence.”
On a very practical level, Ella was the sole reason to get out of bed – she needed to be walked and fed every day. “I’m so grateful that she was in my life,” says James. It’s why he is now such an advocate for UK charity Pets As Therapy, which sees volunteers and their temperament-assessed pets visit care homes, hospitals, hospices, schools and prisons.
Therapy sessions and eventually antidepressants followed; a long road to recovery lay ahead, aided by time spent off-grid in nature with, of course, a coterie of canines for support (he had four in addition to Ella by this point). In 2018, James decided to speak out publicly about his mental health challenges for the first time to help break down the stigma, “because there shouldn’t be any stigma”. His mental health is now something he actively manages and maintains; by speaking openly about it, he hopes he can encourage others to do the same, in a landscape where suicide is the biggest killer of men under the age of 50 in the UK.
There are other, lighter, yet still momentous occasions that Ella was an instrumental part of. Before doing a reading at his sister’s royal wedding with the eyes of the entire world upon him, James practised countless times in front of his faithful companion to perfect the performance. More romantically still, she played cupid, introducing James to his now-wife, Alizee Thevenet. Ella bounded over to her at a pub, seeking out strokes, and James was so struck by the blonde vision in front of him that he did something completely out of character: he left a note with his number on. Alizee got in touch and the rest is history.
“I can categorically say I would never have met Alizee if Ella hadn’t have wandered up to her that day,” he says. “Dogs can be fantastic at creating moments – we just have to know how to spot them.”
Ella sadly passed away in January 2023 at the age of 15 following a short illness; part of the reason James finally felt ready to write a book was because their story finally had an ending. The book, he says, was a tangible way to honour her legacy. But it lives on still, in the puppies she birthed – including Lupo, which he gifted to the Prince and Princess of Wales. And, perhaps, in the fact he’s still here to write about it at all.
‘Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life’ is out on 26 September, published by Radar. James Middleton will be in conversation at Henley Literary Festival on 29 September; henleyliteraryfestival.co.uk
