Chaser (28 page)

The producer said, “We've seen video of Chaser performing behind a screen, and I have been advised that we are to use this curtain.”

The screens in the videos were there to ensure that Chaser could be guided only by the words she heard and not any physical cues, and they were more than big enough for that purpose. This huge curtain was going to isolate her in a way she'd never experienced, in a confusing new environment with lights, noise, and strangers she'd never encountered. I couldn't imagine putting her in that situation on live television in front of millions of people, and told the producer as much.

The producer said, “I thought we worked this out on the phone. I told you yesterday what we want you to do in the segment.”

My jaw clenched involuntarily. I heard myself bellow, “I will not allow you to present my dog on live national television in a situation that sets her up to fail!”

The producer was taken aback. “I will have to check with my superiors about this!” he exclaimed.

If someone had dropped a pin then, everyone present would have heard it.

Finally I said, “If we can't find a compromise, I will take my dog home.”

Fortunately Julia Cort, the ever-graceful executive producer of
Nova scienceNow
, appeared at my side and gently clasped my arm. She had arrived at the studio with Alliston and Eileen Campion's assistant, Vicky, while the segment producer and I were arguing. She said, “I'm sure we can work this out, John. No one wants you to put Chaser into a bad situation.” Deb now stood next to us in silent support. Julia went over to the producer and they walked a few steps away. I heard Julia suggesting that Chaser would shine, and the audience would love it, if Matt Lauer interacted with her as Neil deGrasse Tyson had on
Nova scienceNow
. Julia beckoned to me and said, “John, could you demonstrate that?”

I was still very rattled. A warm nose nuzzled my hand, and I looked down to see Chaser plastering her body to my knees and staring up at me with her huge brown eyes. She was imploring me to assure her that everything was okay, and she wouldn't leave my side until I did so. I looked up and saw Sally, Debbie, Alliston, Julia, and Vicky in a loose circle around Chaser and me. All the techs and stagehands were watching quietly. Even the producer's assistant had stopped tapping messages on her phone and was looking expectantly at me.

I knelt down to give Chaser a solid hug and whispered in her ear, “It's okay, girl.” She immediately wiggled her body happily and nudged my cheek with her nose. I petted her some more, and stood up. Chaser dashed to the beach ball and nosed it up into the air for me to catch, which I did. I smiled at her, and in reply she grinned, tongue hanging out of her mouth, and wagged her tail.

I felt my tension melting away as I regained my confidence. I immediately knew how to get on the same page with our producer. I turned to him with an amicable grin and said gently, “Let me show you what Chaser can do.”

We went back to the same area of the set. The enormous red curtain was gone, replaced by a backdrop banner with
TODAY
repeated over and over on it. The carpet of bright green artificial grass was still there. I grabbed a few toys from the plastic tub and tossed them onto the artificial grass. Chaser watched intently, ready to start herding her surrogate sheep in response to my words.

I knelt down and beckoned to the producer to kneel beside me. He shook his head no and politely said he was glad to stand back and observe. With equal politeness I said that he would gain a much better sense of Chaser's abilities if he got down on her level and gave her some commands himself.

The negotiations hung in the balance as the producer looked reluctantly at the floor. No one had ever completely resisted engaging with Chaser, but for a long moment I feared the producer would be the first. Finally he knelt beside me.

Thrilled to have another person at her level, Chaser made the next move. She grabbed Santie Claus in her mouth and, swinging her head straight up, she “tossed” it to the producer. He was taken by surprise and instinctively caught the doll in one hand.

I encouraged the producer to play a little bit with Chaser to make her comfortable with him. He tossed Santie Claus several feet away and said, “Fetch, Chaser.” She bounded after the doll, picked it up in her mouth, and then returned to stand directly in front of the young man, locking her eyes on him. He leaned forward to take Santie Claus from her mouth, and she teasingly backed up while maintaining eye contact with him. He said, “Chaser,” and patted his knee to indicate she should come to him. She stepped forward, never breaking eye contact, her ears up in full attention. Once again he leaned forward to take the toy from her mouth, and once again she teasingly backed up.

The producer cracked a small smile, and I could see the walls coming down as Chaser worked her wiles on him. “Congratulations!” I said. “You are now one of Chaser's many slaves.”

The rest of the rehearsal went beautifully. As Chaser retrieved objects by name and took them in her mouth, nosed them, or pawed them on his commands, the producer saw that her language learning wasn't a stage trick performed in a rote way. Everyone was smiling as we said good night.

On the brief car ride back to Brooklyn, I tried not to think about the fact that Chaser's live national television debut was only a few hours away. I hoped I hadn't been too insistent with the producer, but a story of Debbie's had convinced me that I couldn't be careless about how the media presented Chaser.

As professional musicians, Debbie and Jay are both experienced performers. Yet they also both get nervous before any performance, big or small. When I asked why, Debbie told me about two friends, a pianist and a bass player, who meet for the first time in a long while. The pianist asks the bass player what he's been up to, and the bass player reports that he's recently completed a successful tour with a great band, recorded on a superstar's new album, and written the music for a hit movie. To each piece of good news the pianist says, “Yeah? I hadn't heard about that.”

The bass player says, “The funny thing is that last week at a jam session I crashed and burned on a relatively simple tune.”

The pianist says, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

In other words, you are only as good as your last performance. I hoped Chaser's first live television gig wouldn't be her last.

In Brooklyn, Debbie unlocked the door to the house and went inside with Sally. Holding Chaser's leash loosely in my hand, I slipped through the door and let it close behind me. We were all trudging up the stairs when Sally said, “Where's Chaser?”

With an “Oh, gosh” I clambered back down the stairs. As I pulled the door open I heard Chaser's resonant new bark. She stood on the sidewalk wagging her tail and holding her leash in her mouth.

“I'm so sorry, girl,” I said, reaching for her leash. Teasing me as she had the producer, she stepped back, dropped the leash, and gave another deep bark.

I laughed and said, “Come on now, Chaser. We've got to go to bed.” She grabbed her leash in her mouth and backed up a little more.

At that moment, three young women rounded the corner and saw Chaser. The one in the middle exclaimed, “Too cute!” Her friends loudly agreed, and they all giggled and squealed more praise as Chaser wagged the whole back half of her body at them. She spotted a small stick on the sidewalk, picked it up in her mouth, and dropped it at the young women's feet, initiating a few minutes of play with them. I told the young women about Chaser's television debut the next morning, and they wished her luck as they waved goodbye. With that, Chaser was finally ready to go inside to bed.

The next morning, returning with Chaser from our normal pre-dawn walk, I saw a black SUV with an NBC sign in the side window idling outside Debbie and Jay's house. A small knot tightened in my stomach.

Sally, Deb, and Aidan were all waiting in the kitchen, ready to go. Alliston, Julia, and Vicky were going to meet us at Rockefeller Center. Aidan was excited about getting to miss school and tag along to
Today
and
ABC World News.
With his Creamsicle cheeks, light brown hair, and creative imagination, Aidan reminds me of a young Tom Sawyer. The rest of the family says he looks like me when I was his age. His presence makes Chaser light up faster than I can say Frisbee, and she was excited about going on an outing with him.

We went down to get into the large SUV, which had two rows of back seats. Chaser hopped in right after Sally and sat on the seat beside her. In our own car she always gets to sit on the seat.

Wanting to be respectful of the driver and his vehicle's leather upholstery, I instructed Chaser to sit on the floor. It took two commands before she reluctantly left the seat for the floor. She sighed heavily as she lay down and rested her head on her front paws.

A few minutes later we were at NBC's Rockefeller Center studios. An NBC page whisked us to the
Today
green room. There was a little makeshift holding area for Chaser right outside, because animals were not allowed in the green room. When it was time to go to the set, Alliston, Chaser, and I followed the producer's assistant, taking a different route through the maze than the night before, until we reached the part of the set with the artificial grass and backdrop banner.

The assistant asked us to take our positions on the fake turf and wait for Matt Lauer. We had to be very quiet, because Meredith Vieira was conducting an interview only a few steps away. In contrast to the night before, the set was fully lit and crowded with people. Camera operators were catching every angle of the different set areas, as we could see on wall-mounted monitors.

In contrast to her exuberance the night before, Chaser was subdued, plainly feeling the impact of the bright lights and the activity all around. She lay down on the artificial grass as if she was bored, and she showed only mild interest when stagehands spread most of the twenty-five toys we'd brought in the plastic tub on the artificial grass and put the plastic tub to my left.

Matt Lauer walked briskly out from behind the backdrop banner. I felt his magnetism as he extended his hand toward Alliston and me with a friendly smile. And then he immediately dropped to one knee to introduce himself to Chaser. She rose to greet him, ears slightly back, tail a little low but still wagging. She glanced up at Matt for only a second, then looked at her toys.

“Do you want to play, Chaser?” Matt asked with a laugh. He grabbed a stuffed animal and tossed it in the air for her to catch. Her ears went up and her tail wagged vigorously as she caught it in her mouth. The entire studio seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, but I thought I might be projecting my own response. Matt played catch with Chaser for a minute, and only then did he stand up and quickly run through the segment with Alliston and me. Matt's consummate professionalism and unmistakable humanity, and Chaser's immediate positive response, made my concerns vanish as quickly as when Neil deGrasse Tyson had instantly made friends with her.

A good thing, too, because over the studio speakers we heard, “Chaser, stand by. And five, four, three, two, one.”

We were live on air. Chaser lay in front of me with her head between her front paws and her ears up as Matt asked Alliston and me about the scientific significance of her learning. She knew intuitively that it was almost time for her to work. She was listening intently for the first words that would tell her what she needed to do.

As he had a minute before, Matt dropped to one knee facing Chaser, and she immediately sat up. Matt said, “Chaser, fetch Tennis. Fetch Tennis.” Chaser stood on hearing her name, and on hearing “Tennis” walked toward two blue racquetballs a few feet apart from each other. When she was closer she saw that neither of them was Tennis. She came back toward Matt and he repeated encouragingly, “Chaser, fetch Tennis.”

Chaser pricked up her ears when Matt spoke, looked toward him quizzically, and wheeled around to scan her toys. For whatever reason, probably the studio lighting, she didn't seem to see the yellow tennis ball that was Tennis amid the thick, bright green artificial grass. What humans see as yellow and green, dogs see as mostly yellow blurring into gray. In any case, Chaser hadn't gone near Tennis yet.

She stood in the center of the artificial grass, and her tail went down. My heart sank. But Matt wasn't giving up. As softly and urgently as David Johnson saying “You can do it,” Matt whispered, “Chaser, fetch Tennis.”

Chaser started to walk around to view her toys. She turned right wide enough so that a couple of steps finally brought her near Tennis, and she could identify it by its size and shape. She quickly picked it up in her mouth, triggering a little chorus of “awww”s from around the studio and a “Good girl!” from me as she took it to Matt.

When I saw the video later, I noted that it took sixteen seconds for Chaser to find Tennis and bring it to Matt. They were the longest sixteen seconds of my life.

Matt told Chaser to put the ball in the tub. She wanted to play with it first, following our pattern after she successfully completed a language task. But there wasn't time for play in the segment, and Chaser reluctantly tossed the ball into the tub, eliciting more “awww”s from around the studio.

Matt stroked Chaser on the head and told her, “Good girl!” And then he said, “Chaser, fetch Peppermint.” Chaser went straight to Peppermint, a small white rubber barbell with pink and green stripes. She snatched it up in her mouth with a playful squeak, and teasingly squeaked it some more as she quickly brought it to Matt and dropped it in the tub.

Matt said, “Chaser, fetch SpongeBob.” As she began to make a circuit of the more than twenty toys still scattered around, Matt repeated, “Fetch SpongeBob.”

Chaser continued on her circuit. Her tail went up and her step quickened. But I didn't see SpongeBob.