Mr Piffles is a rescue dog. Not like Lassie. There’s not much he could rescue, is there? Apart from maybe a moth with a cough. What I mean is I rescued him. Here’s the story:
In August 2008, I was making my debut at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival with my first full-length One Dragon Show. All was well: Houses were full, reviews were great, audiences were happy and yet … I felt like the show was missing something. What I needed was a gimmick.
The venue manager had a Chihuahua named Nacho. Nacho was 4 months old, and we got on like a house on fire. But in a good way. My PR suggested that perhaps Nacho should make a little cameo in the Piff show. And so it came to pass. Nacho stole the hearts of the audiences, and I was hooked.
Realizing a dog is for life, not just for Edinburgh, I did my due diligence and researched the upkeep and maintenance of such a beast.
The overhead on a Chihuahua is low. A bag of food lasts three months. They are far more loyal than most of the relationships I’ve had. And their magic skills are second to none.
I was committed. And so I turned to Gumtree the very next day and found Mr Piffles’s cry for help. I set out to the cold, unforgiving land of Dundee, Scotland, where Alfie, as Mr Piffles was formerly known, was being held captive.
On first glimpse, I wasn’t sure he was cut out for show business. He was unkempt, mangy, his eyes crusted over, and an 8-year-old was putting the boot in on a daily basis.
However, worst case, I thought, I should at least get him out of these horrible conditions, and if it didn’t work out between us, I could always rehome him. I paid £400 (about $512) in ransom money and got him the fluff out.
It was a slow process at the start. He would growl, snap and bark at children. He hid under tables. He soiled more carpets than I had the capital to replace. I would drag him through the rain, swearing under my breath, as onlookers pointed, laughed and stared.
But onstage? Onstage, he shone. From the get-go. Audiences loved him. And so I dug in. I took him to the vets. I fed him properly. I found a trainer. And slowly he began to come out of his shell. His coat began to shine. His eyes cleared up. His tail began to wag.
Looking back, it took almost a year for him to fully settle in. Now he is without doubt the greatest decision I have ever made. He’s a constant delight, a wonderful companion and a loyal business partner. He may be a rescue dog, but 15 years on and 5,000 shows later, I’m the one who feels the redemption.
