Sunday, 26 August 2012

The Return of Rizza

I hadn't seen my dearest puppyhood pal, Rizza, for ages. We met again at the park, where he was walking along with a blind woman and her golden Lab guide dog. For a moment I thought he was with Guido and my heart stopped. Then I realised this was not my other long gone pal, but just another member of the guide dog club. Rizza was delighted to see me and ran over,  docked tail wagging. 

"I'm going to be a Hollywood star!", he declared as he sniffed my bits.

"How so?" I enquired, sloping my rear to sitting position. He was always a very randy dog so precautions were necessary, not that he'd ever been successful .

"I'm going to be a stunt dog in the new film, Fast and Furious 6, filming in Glasgow next week."

"A stunt dog?"

"Yes, I've been practising on the Paisley roads, running in front of traffic and dodging the cars and I'm great at it."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Out here, definitely, but on set it'll be a lot safer."

"How did you get involved with the production?"

"Officially, I'm not, but since my World War Z debut, I've figured out how to get on set and make the maximum expression."

"Don't you mean 'impression'?"

"No, 'expression' " and he pulled a face of utter, wide-eyed shock. "The camera will close in on my face as three racing cars zoom towards me. I'm stuck in the middle of the road like a rabbit in their headlights. At the last minute one car zips left, another zips right and the third runs right over the top of me. We see the cars heading off into the distance and the camera pans back towards where I was, the audience expecting the worst, only I'm still cowering unharmed, the same expression stuck on my face. I turn to my rear, the camera following my line of sight and spots the little poop that I've dropped. I look to the heavens... then the action continues elsewhere."

"Wow, they wrote that part for you?"

"Not exactly. I've still to pitch it to them. I figured I'd just turn up and audition live, during one of the set ups. It sounds amazing doesn't it?"

"Will it be real poop or fake?"

"Depends on how many takes we do."

I considered dashing his dreams with a bite of reality but seeing the excitement in his eyes went with, "Good luck with that. Break a leg, as they say."

Rizza looked stunned. "I'm a stunt dog, not an actor. You never say that to a stunt dog."

I changed the subject. "So where is your master?"

"Oh we've split up again. I hooked up with that blind lady. Morris, her guide dog, doesn't mind me tagging along and sharing his food and water She doesn't know I'm even there. Morris loves my road manoeuvres. He isn't even allowed to cross the road unless there's a green man flashing and beeping."

Rizza then noticed his new owner had exited the park gate and was about to cross the main road.

"Better be off. Watch this for a quick exit," and he sped off at full tilt. Then he skidded and ran back.

"When we meet again ask me about the book I'm writing. I need your help with some of the lady bits."

A book? Rizza was writing a book? He didn't even know how to read. I didn't get a chance to ask him more because he turned and ran out of the gate and across the road just as the lights turned to green. He must lead a charmed life because all of the cars missed him. Or maybe he is just a good stunt dog. 

I can't wait to find out about this book though.