Working with animals and children
SOME years ago, when I did occasional television work, I found myself at Edinburgh zoo, in front of the cameras, with a waddle of penguins behind me.
My wife and children had come through for the day and it became clear they were disrupting the show by constantly appearing in the background, waving and blowing kisses.
The producer had them politely removed to the relative safety of the outside broadcast trailer. Then the penguin water showers came on and I was soaked. I never wore that suit again.
Two further stories serve to remind me why you should never work with animals or children. The first concerns a lady who phoned home from work to ask her teenage daughter to put the lasagne in the oven, so that it would be hot and ready to eat when she returned after a long day.
Arriving home tired and irritable, she was aghast to find a totally empty, clean plate sitting on the top shelf. Loudly berating her offspring for her lack of consideration, she became even more annoyed when said girl tried to convince her hungry mum that she had, in fact, carried out her wishes and put the dish in to heat.
They were on the point of falling out when they noticed the family dog, a yellow Labrador of some considerable distinction, shuffle furtively up to the now cool oven, pull the door down with his teeth and inspect the contents. The penny dropped. Shortly after the dutiful daughter had put the lasagne in, the crafty canine had opened the swing door, licked the still cool platter completely clean and departed, thereby allowing the door to swing back shut. Mama Mia!
The second incident involved another much loved pet but was somewhat more alarming in nature. Just about to settle down with her family for dinner, Mrs X noticed that the entire contents of the family’s ‘favourite confectionery box’ had mysteriously disappeared.
Of course, in walked the dog, who had developed a considerable reputation for thefts of this kind, though none was quite as significant. Or dangerous. A quick call to the surgery provided us with the bodyweight of the culprit and the quantity of chocolate consumed (much of which was dark, so contained more cocoa).
A careful calculation of the various items showed that the naughty pooch was in the danger zone for developing chocolate toxicity and so Mr X and young teenage daughter, Miss X, were sent at top speed to bring her to the vets.
Fortunately, a simple (though somewhat expensive) injection will reliably cause vomiting, which efficiently empties the stomach of its entire contents. On this occasion the results were remarkable, both in the quantity and variety of stuff that came up, but also in the fact that there was absolutely no chocolate. None. Not even a Smartie.
We reported the situation to Mr X, who was, quite naturally, completely dumbfounded. Until, again, the penny dropped. Mr X looked accusingly down at his fidgeting daughter, whose rapidly reddening cheeks confirmed his suspicions. She didn’t half get her Snickers in a Twix. I suppose she was Bounty be found out sometime.
Aye. Children and pets.