‘And for a few laughs, we thought we’d include these clips,’ said Jo as the footage moved on to show a dog that liked to sing along when his owner played the piano, a cat that went through a series of yoga exercises with his owner, mimicking the moves with great precision as they both lay on the floor; but my favourite was the black and white cat that appeared to pole-dance on a broomstick when its owner played soul music.
‘We can cut some of these clips down to make a montage,’ said Gary, ‘but I think we have to include them.’
‘Absolutely,’ I agreed.
‘Next on the agenda is the filming we’ve done with pet owners and their animals. No one will ever love you like a dog,’ said Jo.
‘Hey,’ said Gary. ‘Although I don’t like to leave you and Dudley alone too long.’
Jo laughed. ‘You know what I mean – they’re always pleased to see you, give unconditional love …’
‘So do I,’ said Gary.
‘Early days, mate,’ said Jo, but she was smiling. ‘There are inspiring stories of animals alerting their owners if there’s a fire …’
‘Dogs that can smell when their owners need insulin,’ said Lauren.
‘Or even has cancer,’ said Jo.
‘And so many examples of cats and dogs comforting someone when they are ill or grieving.’
‘Have you got any footage of dogs as hospital or care home visitors,’ I asked. ‘When my mum was in the care home, a lady used to bring her yellow Labrador in once a week and the residents loved him. A furry presence of warmth and affection. He brought great comfort, and many of them responded to the dog more than human visitors.’
‘We’ll make a note of that,’ said Lauren. ‘So far we haven’t but I think we should.’
‘We do have one heartbreaking clip of a dog whose owner died,’ said Jo. ‘After the funeral no one could find him, people searched everywhere. He was eventually found lying on his owner’s grave, with his head down between his paws.’
‘Oh god, that’s too sad,’ I said.
‘Include in the programme or not?’ asked Gary.
‘Include,’ I said. ‘We’ll have laughter and tears. There can be both in friendships.’
‘But what’s the reunion story?’ asked Ally. ‘I thought every programme was going to be about someone getting back together with an old friend.’
‘We’re filming that early this afternoon, then there will be some time in the studio. All sorts of people are bringing in their pets,’ said Gary.
‘Including your Bonnet friends,’ said Jo. ‘They’ve hired a minivan and are coming up for the day with their dogs.’
‘And my agent Nicholas is bringing his dog Atticus in,’ I said.
‘And my son is driving up some of my animals,’ said Jo. ‘Including Rambo my sheep.’
‘Good luck with that,’ said Ally.’ I hope you have some animal minders on hand to keep the animals under control.’
I noticed Lauren and Gary exchanged glances. Clearly not.
*
‘How long has your husband been away?’ I asked Maggie Mitchell as we sat in her light airy kitchen in north London that afternoon. Ajay and Gary had come along, ready to film the return of Colin, her soldier husband from Afghanistan.
‘He’s been away four months and Alvin here has been pining. From the moment we got him as a wee puppy, he was Colin’s dog, his constant companion and best buddy. He sleeps on his side of the bed.’ She indicated the black German shepherd lying under the table.
A car had been sent to pick up Colin from the airport; about fifteen minutes before it was due to arrive, Gary got a text to say that they wouldn’t be long. It appeared that Alvin got a psychic text of his own, because he suddenly perked up and ran to the front door, his tail wagging. There he sat, as if he knew Colin would be back any moment.
‘He used to do that whenever Colin had been out without him, like to the gym or the supermarket. It was as if he had some inner antennae that alerted him to Colin’s movements.’
‘I’ve heard of cats doing that as well as dogs,’ I said as Ajay got up to film Alvin waiting by the door.
A text announced Colin’s arrival, and the rest of us trooped through into the front room to watch as the car drew up. Already Alvin was barking in the hall. A tanned, fit man with short brown hair got out of the car and approached the door. When Maggie opened it and Colin walked through, she barely got a chance to greet her husband. Alvin went ballistic, delirious with joy, paws up at Colin’s chest, dancing on his back legs. Colin dropped his gear, got down on the floor with him and Alvin gave him a good licking before flopping down into his lap and looking up at him adoringly. Colin laughed. ‘Some homecoming – guess I was missed, hey?’
Alvin gave him an extra lick as if to say, yes, yes, you were, and at last Colin could get up to hug his wife.
We were all wiping our eyes as we watched.
*
After a bit of chat to camera about Colin’s friendship with Alvin, Gary, Ajay and I got back in the car and headed for a studio that had been booked in west London for the afternoon.
We walked into pandemonium. Dogs barking, cats meowing, a llama in the corner, various I-don’t-know-whats in small cages. I wouldn’t be going near those in case any contained spiders. There was a pot-bellied pig running around being chased by a pygmy goat, a parrot with Tourettes in the corner, whistling then shouting obscenties: ‘Bugger off, vicar, bugger off.’
‘Marvellous,’ I said as I spotted Nicholas. ‘What’s the saying? Never work with children or animals?’
‘I’m leaving,’ said Nicholas, ‘Atticus is getting distressed.’ At that moment, Atticus cocked his leg and peed on Gary’s shoes.
Over in the corner, The Bonnets were gathered with their dogs, so I went
