Yesterday was supposed to be Harlow’s big break.
He had been asked to go to an ad agency downtown to do a photo shoot for a really big pet product brand. Naturally I was hesitant to agree to this. I mean I don’t want to sound selfish or anything, but I’m supposed to be the star of this family. I’m the one who has been working tirelessly going to auditions and trying to get an agent hoping one day I’ll “make it.” Yet it was Harlow who booked his first big gig- without even trying I might add.
So like the good stage mom I am, I said okay. Of course Harlow was ecstatic. Let’s not kid anyone here, the guy is a total attention whore. Yesterday he was full of demands before the shoot. Bathe me, scrub my ears, brush my teeth, give me turkey meat, more turkey meat, now a cheese stick. … Again, I’m a good stage mom so I let it happen.
Harlow was so concerned about looking good he actually tricked me into thinking he was going to be a little bit professional about this whole thing. And that got me excited. If one of us was going to make it I guess I could accept it being him. I could live in his shadow for life, I’ve already done it for the past three years anyway.
But I was wrong about the whole professional thing.
I knew things were going to be bad when we got into the elevator in the building and Har just started going crazy. Not like a scared crazy, just a crazy-crazy. A vizsla-crazy. He’s been on elevators before, all city dogs have, but for some reason yesterday he started jumping on the walls and barking at the buttons.
When we got off on the floor of the ad agency Har ran straight for the front desk and put his paws on it looking for treats. He thinks that every time we go somewhere he just has to put his paws on a counter and he’ll get a treat. And because we live in Lincoln Park, that’s typically the case. Every business serves dog treats. And they reward his bad behavior because “he’s just so cute,” or so they say… Speaking of bad behavior, Harlow isn’t exactly well trained… He used to be. Kind of. But he’s a jumper. That’s pretty much my fault though because when I walk in the door I kind of encourage it, what can I say I like Harlow hugs. And who am I to judge, I’m not exactly the best trained human, I don’t always stay when people tell me to, so whatever.
After he made his presence known to everyone in the office, truly everyone, we were guided into a room with a white backdrop. The photographer showed us some example photos of what he was looking for, “just a relaxed chill look,” he said as Harlow ran full on zoomies around the small office, pausing only to jump on the chairs and desk, a look of pure excited mania in his eye.
Here’s the thing about Vizslas, they’re not chill or relaxed. They are crazy. I love Harlow so much and will never stray from having a Vizsla, but they cray. I regularly get asked if Har’s still a puppy because he still has that clumsy puppy energy. He’s going to be four in two weeks.
As you can imagine, he didn’t sit in front of the white backdrop and pose nicely. He did anything but. I tried treats, I tried commands, I tried sitting in front of the backdrop nicely myself, but nothing worked. He was tossing his big break down the drain and he didn’t even care. I think every shot probably looked like this.
And then after all of his running around, he got super diva like and demanded he be brought an ice cold glass of water. With a lemon.
And also a good neck rub.
I’m not supposed to mention the brand he was shooting for (just yet) but if his shots get chosen you’ll be seeing his mug all over the place on product packaging. Sadly, I think we all know this won’t be the case.
I guess not all dogs are cut out to be model-dogs. Not this guy anyway.