1993. A call came in from a casting director. They needed me, my car, and my dog. A night shoot. The cash register in my head kept ringing. I accepted the job and away we went after a shower for Jessee-girl my mixed black lab setter, a rug for her, kibbles also for her–I don’t do kibbles, folks–and where did we go you might ask? Why destination The Plaza Hotel! Nothing but the best for this movie called The Pickle. You heard it here. And you can’t make this stuff up.
We rode up in an elevator with some dogs and actors. Hmm. I won’t touch that one. About thirty dogs, mostly well behaved but a few, well call the cops. They were nasty as the owners looked the other way. Hours went by. Jesse-girl needed to walk and so did I. The good news was, outside the dark sky opened to a rainstorm. More pay with weather. Yes! I toweled her off, she settled down and snacked on treats. No food in sight for actors. Another bad mark to report to the Union rep.
And so the long night went with only a glimpse of the stars, Mr. Aiello, Dyan Cannon, and Paul Mazursky, the director.
I never saw the movie, reviews were poor so why bother but it’s another page in my book of sweet memories a while back.