On 11th February 2022, we finally brought home Radio Harold Mead, a beautiful Cavalier King Charles Spaniel/ Poodle cross, to become part of our family. Neither Laura nor I had ever had a dog before, not even as children. We were both first time dog owners with a lot to learn.
The sheer scale of our ignorance became immediately and forcefully apparent to us over the next few weeks. We simply hadn’t realised the level of care he was going to require, nor had we considered how fundamentally he would disrupt the rhythm of our lives.
The next two months were utter chaos.
But if we hadn’t truly appreciated the work involved, then nothing could have prepared us for the sheer scale of the love we would feel for that 8 week old pup. He was a little person, a complete and fully-realised soul who walked on four legs and faced the world with enthusiasm and joy.
As I drove him home on that first fateful afternoon, facing the 6 hour road trip down from County Durham without food or bathroom break, I felt an immense feeling of responsibility settle on me. Radio, for his part, looked over from between the bars of his travelling crate, fixing me with these dark soulful eyes and a moment of real connection flashed between us. Then he leant forward and vomited spectacularly over his front paws
Oh, I would do anything for him.
I would divert the course of mighty rivers if it would keep him safe. And this sudden and unexpected surge of emotion got me thinking about improv (because anything joyful or affecting or fascinating gets me thinking about improv).
Radio, in his first moments in the Mead household.
Here then are the ways my dog has made me a better improviser.
When a dog wants to play, their whole body reverberates with the power of that want. They can’t hide it - their intention is held in their physicality. Radio will run up to you, swipe you with his paw and then do a little bow before bouncing around the room with the joy he is feeling. He is galvanised by that sense of play and a good improviser is likewise motivated.
I’ve tried to cultivate a playing stance that is open and relaxed, that finds pleasure in movement and glories in connection. I want to signal to my scene partner that I am happy and pleased to be playing with them.
The more I do improv, the more I’m convinced that enjoying yourself on stage is 80% of the ballgame. It relaxes an audiences and carries them along with you. It’s not enough to feel excited, you need to find a way to externalise that for the people around you.
Sometimes Radio had trouble with forward locomotion because he is wagging his tail so much. That’s the kind of energy I appreciate in a scene partner.
Being a dog owner means going outside on a regular basis. Come rain or shine, you are out the door at least twice a day.
And the dog walking community seems much more chatty and helpful than the human race at large. They will invariably stop, say hello, ask questions about your dog and generally pass the time of day in delightful ways. I know a great deal more about my neighbours than I did 9 months ago.
From an improv point of view, this is a challenge to get out of your comfort zone. There’s a whole world outside your window. Try new formats, go and see shows you wouldn’t normally watch, play characters that are very different from yourself. Improvise with people from different backgrounds and who identify in different ways to you. For years I’ve subscribed to random indie magazines so I can pick up inspiration from other lifestyles and other cultures. An improviser should actively seek out new ground.
But remember to get people’s names. I know all the dog’s names but none of their owners’.
One of the reasons that dogs and humans are so compatible is that the musculature around our eyes is so similar. We can read each other’s emotions very easily.