For many years, people have recognized me out and about in my daily life.
Rarely do they remember my name. And after over a decade on TV news, you’d think that the weather would be my calling card.
But no, for over six years, I have been referred to as “The Pet Lady.” The News Hour’s “Pet of the Week” feature is very popular. But I have no delusions of grandeur. It’s not me that draws them.
Every week, I introduce various furry creatures to the public with the hope that someone will consider adopting their next pet. My kids, as I like to call them, are seriously cute. And me? I could be quoting the phone book for all anyone would care.
The old adage in TV is to “never work with children or animals.” Thank you, W.C. Fields.
Personally, I love shooting these segments. It’s never boring. And no, I have never been bitten on a shoot. Ever.
I used to try to keep the animals perfectly still for the camera while I said my lines. Then one day, one nosey little furrball decided to poke her head in my jacket, sniff my armpit and continue her journey down my sleeve.
There I sat, trying to remember my spiel as a wet whiskered nose tickled my underarm and the audience watched a furry cat-butt sticking out, back feet perched on my right boob and a tail gently flicking at my nose.
It was time to let go and let my kids just be themselves on camera. Now, the cats meow and sniff and give me attitude.
The occasional guinea pig and rabbit try to hypnotize me with its unwavering gaze.
The dogs, however, are another story. I’ve been licked, peed on, jumped, humped, and sniffed more intimately than I care to admit.
Fortunately, they usually calm down for the camera. But sometimes they just like to mess with me. The hyperactive ones will suddenly play dead. Others will pant so heavily that it sounds like I’m strangling them.
And then there are those moments when animal nature takes over. Boy dogs, especially young ones sometimes get … shall we say, excited. Some of the older ones too. And then things … um … come up.
No, I’m not immune to the magic they weave. One set of sad eyes broke my heart. After a few weeks of working with her at the shelter, more than one staffer told me, “She’s your dog. She’s not like this with anyone else. Just take her home, already.”
What could I say? Cuddled at my side, she gave me those cow eyes that said, “You’re mine. So why are we still here?”
That’s why we take 60 seconds of valuable airtime every week: to help bring them home, wherever that may be. There is a connection between man and beast. They know it. We’re just a little slow on the uptake.
But don’t worry. They’re patient. They’ll wait.
