Even at age 80, Roberts is an imposing physical presence and bears himself with almost preternatural calm. But at a Heathrow Airport restaurant, en route to assist in the training of young Thoroughbreds at Polhampton, a slight tremor breaks across his lips when he describes an exchange he had with the Queen after Monty’s death, in 2012.
“I said, ‘I want you to tell me the best breeder of corgis that you revere. Who’s doing the best job? Because I want a puppy to be named Monty, to be a replacement.’ But she didn’t want to have any more young dogs. She didn’t want to leave any young dog behind. She wanted to put an end to it. I understood that we would discuss it further at a later date.
“Well, we never discussed it at a later date, and I have no right to try to force her into continuing to bring on young puppies if she doesn’t want to. That isn’t my right. But it still concerns me. Because I want her to believe in her existence until she’s no longer here, because she’s just too important to the world to contemplate checking out. For me, the Queen can’t die.”
To Roberts, the corgis exemplify the Queen’s greatness as a leader in one specific way, distinct from the sense of continuity that many claim to be the essence of her significance. “The dogs are so critical, and the horses, the cows, and the other animals, the wild deer and the stags of Scotland—they all play into it, because in my opinion the Queen created an avenue by which people could include animals as a part of our social structure,” Roberts says.