I had a TV interview today with the Garden Terrorist. I had to speak about my dog etc... it was cute. I, however, was very nervous for my dog to be in a new environment with 10 other dogs. He's very friendly, but with so much stimulation and excitement, he may get protective over me.
We arrived at the studio's and all was lovely, but they asked us to be there and hour and a half before we actual went on set. I didn't know this at the time. It was a mission trying to keep him still, calm and cool from the heat.
He was extremely well behaved and I was really proud of him, but as it goes, he started getting irritable plus he was over heating. I took him outside to try and get him to drink some water and maybe go for a wee. We walked around for a while and were finally called to go onto set.
As we walked inside, The Garden Terrorist just let out the biggest diarroeah shit I have ever seen in my life. The poor dude! I felt so embarrassed and tried to get someone to hold him (all 43kgs of him) while I try and clean it up. Charming.
This guy turned around (Thank God!) and said, "Don't stress. I'll do it!"
Well, I don't know what happened to me. I was so stressed from the whole thing and suddenly seeing this guy cleaning up liquid shit was just unbelievably hysterical. I felt like a mad woman. Laughing to the point that I there was no sound coming out of my mouth, I was doubled over and tears were coming out of my eyes. It was that nervous, uncomfortable, I-don't-know-what-to-do-right-now laughter and the more I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed that I was laughing, with him cleaning it up, the more I felt like I was going to wee.
I was finished, the minute he started gagging. I wanted to die from embarrassment but the tears of laughter flowed. I must have looked like such a bitch.
I don't know why I do that. I don't know why I laugh when I'm uncomfortable. It's a horrible vicious circle.
The poor thing. He was so well behaved but had had enough by the time we got onto set that all his training and manners went out the window. The poor host (petrified of dogs) was nervous and 4 of us had to sit on a couch with 4 dogs. They all started going for each other on "Live" TV. No cuts, no "please control your animal", nothing. All "live". "Live" because it's recorded as if it's live.
Live to tape is the correct expression. Apparently.
The Garden Terrorist (G.T) kept wanting to sniff the Husky and Great Dane, who weren't too fond of their butts being smelled, so they snapped, he snapped and I had to yank 43kgs back, nearly taking the host out.
I also don't know if I answered any of her questions correctly because I was so busy trying to tame G.T. Argh.
I couldn't wait to get him home. I was just starting to feel horrible about putting the G.T in this situation. It was all for charity and this was just the publicity around it. We haven't even done the actual event. Oh. dear. God.