Chaser (29 page)

“SpongeBob's not out there,” I said apologetically.

Chaser kept heading across the stage and picked up something on the other side of Matt from me, as he said, “No, here it is right here.”

Chaser brought the object to us, and I saw it was a Frisbee with SpongeBob's face on it.

“She sees better than I do,” I said, feeling very relieved.

Chaser wanted to play with the Frisbee, but Matt told her to put it in the tub and she did so, resigned to its being out of commission for play.

Chaser was ready to fetch another toy and if possible play with it. However, there were only about forty seconds left of the segment's three-and-a-half-minute slot on the show. Matt stood up and asked what else we wanted to accomplish with Chaser. I put Alliston on the spot with a silly “Speak, Alliston.” He good-naturedly replied, “Woof,” and then explained that the next steps of language learning for Chaser would be working with syntax and how the order of words can affect meaning.

Meanwhile, Chaser had picked up KG, a toy barbell made out of purple rubber, and was squeaking it hopefully. She continued to squeak it as Alliston spoke, until I whispered firmly, “Out, out,” meaning let go of the toy, and “Drop,” meaning lie down. As she complied, like a child who knows that protest is no longer tolerated, I silently gave thanks that she had charmed her audience as usual.

The next moments flew by. Matt wrapped up the segment by telling viewers about that evening's
Nova scienceNow
. We stayed right where we were until the monitors switched to Russell Brand, sitting opposite Meredith Vieira. The show then cut to commercial, but not before Russell Brand wisecracked, in response to Meredith's saying it must be tough to follow a dog, “It's pretty easy, actually, because I could have put all those things in that tub. I was watching Chaser and I thought, ‘That is
easy
.'”

Matt shook our hands and thanked us for coming and bringing Chaser, graciously posed for pictures, and then strode off to his next segment. Pumped up with excitement, I looked around for Chaser. Russell Brand was embracing her and posing for pictures with her and Aidan, until a producer rushed him off to join Matt Lauer in front of the crowd outside
Today
's street-level studio.

Suddenly I was feeling as light as air, busting my buttons with pride over Chaser's national television debut. Matt Lauer could not have been more personable and amazing with Chaser, and the entire staff of
Today
had been great. Our segment's young producer had completely delivered and knocked the ball out of the park. What a great day, and it was only 8:45 a.m.

Here was Sally, beaming as she took my hand and squeezed it. She gave me a quick kiss and whispered, “Good job, Pill!” Julia Cort, also grinning from ear to ear over Chaser's performance, was asking Deb, who was snapping pictures, to be sure to send her copies. Soon we were all assembled, and Aidan proudly took charge of Chaser on her leash.

Plastic tub of Chaser's toys in hand, an NBC page guided us through the maze to the stage door on West Forty-Eighth Street. The same black SUV was waiting for us. The sidewalk was streaming with people hurrying to work, and Chaser basked in the smiles, compliments, and pets she elicited from the passing throng.

It was time to say goodbye to Alliston, who needed to catch a plane home. As his cab pulled away from the curb to take him to the airport, I thought about how lucky I was to have his friendship and his collaboration on the work with Chaser.

I turned back to the black SUV and saw that Deb was still trying to orchestrate getting everyone inside. Chaser kept jumping in and trying to claim a seat, and it took plenty of coaxing from Deb and me to convince her to get down. With great reluctance—and a dramatic sigh—Chaser plopped down on the floor behind the front passenger seat, and at last we were on our way.

We weren't scheduled to arrive at the ABC studios for the taping with Diane Sawyer until one-thirty. So that we could rest a little without having to fight morning rush hour and midday traffic going back and forth to Brooklyn, Julia had thoughtfully reserved a room for us at a dog-friendly luxury hotel in Chelsea.

The hotel was only twenty-five blocks away, but it took thirty minutes to get there because of the heavy traffic. Chaser ignored me and everyone else the whole way. I was a little frustrated with her sulking, but then I reflected that she had just brilliantly demonstrated her creative learning without receiving any of her usual play rewards. How many people watching her on
Today
, I wondered, had ever seen an animal demonstrate something without getting food rewards for completing a trick or a step in a routine? How many noticed that Chaser did everything she was asked without being given a single treat?

The hotel room had a king-size bed. As soon as Chaser saw it, she looked at me expectantly, wagging her tail.

“Go ahead, girl!” I said.

Chaser jumped up on the bed and spun around to face me with her ears pricked straight up at attention.

“Fast fan,” I whispered. “Fast fan.”

She hopped back a little, bowed her front legs, and shook her head back and forth with a low play-growl.

“Fast fan,” I repeated, tossing her a toy misnamed “Ann.” When Aidan saw the toy, he gravely informed me that it was Marvin the Martian from Looney Tunes. But I'd already written “Ann” on the toy in permanent ink, and that was the name Chaser learned.

Chaser has always loved jumping on our bed at home. She does this only when we invite her, never on her own. There is a ceiling fan above the foot of the bed, and she gets excited when we turn it on. She also likes the ceiling fans in the living room and upstairs, but the one in our bedroom is the most captivating, because it is right above the bouncy bed.

It was Robin who first noticed Chaser's fascination with the ceiling fans. And it was Robin who started the game by saying “fast fan” to attract Chaser's attention when she turned on one of them.

“Fast fan” can now mean play time anywhere, although most of all on a bed. But Chaser always looks up for a fan when she hears the phrase, because a whirring ceiling fan is the cherry on the ice cream sundae in her mind.

After Chaser and I played “fast fan” for a while, we all took a walk around the neighborhood. And then we rested for an hour before leaving for ABC in the black SUV. The now familiar seating to-do ensued until Chaser resigned herself to lying on the floor again.

“You'll only have to put up with this one more time today, Chaser,” I said. But she was ignoring me and everyone else again.

At ABC's studios on West Sixty-Sixth Street on Manhattan's Upper West Side, we announced ourselves at the security desk. We figured we'd have to take Chaser upstairs to the
ABC World News
studio in a freight elevator.

Only a couple of minutes later, however, a camera crew showed up and began shooting footage. Our entrance was being recorded, as we only learned much later, for a promotional clip for that evening's news broadcast.

Chaser was intrigued by the cameraman, who stepped backward and forward and all around her for good angles, like a dancer. She didn't mind even when he brought the camera down right in front of her face for a tight close-up. She seemed to be thinking, “This is interesting. I want to know more about this game.”

Or maybe she was just clicking into performance mode. In any case, she was alert and poised. Her posture was downright regal, I thought proudly.

The producer of the segment, a petite woman with brown hair, strode up and greeted us warmly. She led the way to an escalator to the mezzanine, where we were to take a regular elevator up to the newsroom and studio.

Escalators are not made for four-footed creatures. Chaser had certainly never been on one, and I thought I might have to pick her up in my arms. Hoping for the best, I plowed on with Chaser on the leash in front of me and the cameraman right behind. At the bottom step of the escalator I whispered, “Here we go, girl.” Chaser hesitated almost imperceptibly, and then mounted the moving steps as if she'd done so countless times.

A few minutes later we got off the elevator on the newsroom floor and followed the producer's direction to proceed down a hallway, now with the cameraman in front of Chaser and me. Up ahead I could see people standing where the hallway opened into an aisle of cubicles on both sides. The closer we got, the more people stood up and came into the aisle, or stuck their heads out from behind their cubicles, to get a glimpse of Chaser.

Chaser responded with eagerness to meet them, and she was striding out ahead of me when Diane Sawyer came around a corner. She walked toward us down the hallway, as tall as the day is long and even more beautiful than on television. She extended her hand with a welcoming smile and said, “Hello, Professor. I'm Diane.”

“Hey, Diane, it's so good to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.

“It's so great to meet you,” she said. Bending to pet Chaser, she added, “And to meet the fabulous Chaser, too.”

Chaser's regal poise was gone. She wiggled under Diane's affectionate pets like the puppy she has always remained inside.

After personally greeting everyone, including Aidan, Diane led us to a conference room, chatting with us and introducing us to a wide variety of colleagues along the way. It was impressive to see the positive spirit and serious sense of purpose of that group, and the mutual regard that Diane and her colleagues obviously shared.

The conference room had water and dog treats as well as refreshments for our little entourage. Our bucket of toys was already open on the floor, brought there by a stagehand. Before I knew it Chaser had her favorite blue racquetball in her mouth and was dropping it at Diane's feet.

“You really could try to play a little harder to get, Chaser,” Deb said under her breath.

Delighted, Diane tossed the ball to Chaser. Chaser gave it back to her for another toss. And another. And another.

I gave Diane a brief demonstration of Chaser's response to herding commands. And Chaser pawed and nosed KG, the purple rubber barbell, and then took it in her mouth as I instructed her to do so in succession. The mischievous squeaks she gave KG when she picked it up with her mouth were her own way of punctuating the conversation.

Chaser was exhilarated in front of Diane and her colleagues. But she continued to listen and respond accurately to every command I gave her. I was so proud of her.

Just then Neil deGrasse Tyson loomed in the doorway. There is something about his presence, classic and imposing yet friendly, that reminds me of someone like Gregory Peck.

“Helloooo, Chaser,” Neil said in his resonant baritone.

Chaser wiggled over to Neil and rubbed herself against his knees to receive his full-body pets. Finished cuddling, she showed him a toy they could play with, and he obliged while still managing to say hello to everyone in turn.

We brainstormed briefly about how the segment might go, but I saw that with two master communicators like Diane and Neil it was best just to set them going and let them develop the segment. What didn't work would be cut before it was broadcast.

The segment producer said we should go over to the set. Chaser and Aidan brought up the rear. Aidan was holding her leash in one hand, but he was resting the other hand on the top of her haunches, something that was possible only because they had been puppies together, so to speak, and had complete trust in each other. The hallway suddenly widened like a river delta, open offices on both sides emptying into the arena-like set of
ABC World News
. People were busy working throughout the high-tech space, oblivious to us.

We stopped there to wait for Diane, and Aidan became entranced by the spectacle all around him. He dropped Chaser's leash and walked forward a few steps, as if into a wondrous book or video game. Diane came onto the set, and Aidan self-consciously retreated to my side, not wanting to be anywhere he shouldn't. Seeing this, Diane beckoned to Aidan. She held out her hand to him and said, “Aidan, let me show you our prompter.”

She took him by the hand and led him over behind her on-air desk, where she had him try reading the prompts off the monitors. Seeing Aidan relax and smile under her tutelage in Newscasting 101, I had no doubt that she would work the same magic with Chaser.

Diane and Neil briefly rehearsed their on-camera interactions, sitting on two sleek modern stools. They planned to talk about Chaser's achievements in between clips from
Nova scienceNow
, and to end the segment with a demonstration of her performing a language task in response to a command from Diane. I was relieved that I didn't have to appear on camera, but I still had a few butterflies on Chaser's behalf.

Diane wanted to see if Chaser would respond to her commands. Diane, Neil, and I pulled various toys out of the bucket, discussing their names and photogenic qualities. Very serious stuff.

We chose half a dozen toys, avoiding those Chaser retrieved on the
Today Show
. One of the toys Diane, Neil, and I picked out was her ABC stuffed block. When we'd put the toys into the plastic tub early that morning in Brooklyn, it was Aidan who'd said, “Here, Pop-Pop, let's take ABC.” I was so nervous at the time that the coincidence of the toy's and the television network's names didn't occur to me. It was only now that I realized the significance of the toy's name for where we were—and Aidan's cleverness in suggesting we bring it.

Neil and I explained to Diane that all she had to do was tell Chaser what object to find. With the stools taken away, Diane and Neil knelt down on either side of the blue tub. Chaser popped to attention as Diane called her name. She tilted her head and locked her gaze on Diane's face.

Diane said, “Chaser, find Flipflopper.”

Chaser immediately picked up Flipflopper, a Frisbee made of cloth, and brought it over. Diane threw her arms up into the air, then put her hands to the sides of her head and said, “Unbelievable!”