It is a woof universally acknowledged that the UK is a nation of animal lovers. Even if this immutable facet of our otherwise mercurial national character had not always been the case, it would likely become a self-fulfilling prophecy, simply because every TV documentary about cats, dogs and other household critters is apparently legally obliged to include the phrase “the UK is a nation of animal lovers” within its opening five minutes.
So why have we – and TV show makers – latched so firmly on to this idea? Partly it’s because animals undoubtedly enrich people’s lives. You would have to be some granite-hearted golem not to feel a swell of empathy when confronted with a scrunch-faced pug or haughty, high-bottomed Siamese. But the pervasive belief that everyone in the UK must love dogs makes pet-related TV the safest of safe mass-market options. Just give the people what they want – shih tzus and giggles.
How much is too much? Here in the dog days of summer, we are currently being overwhelmed by pet-related programming. Channel 4 cleared out their 8pm slot every night last week for Animal Rescue Live: Supervet Special, a mongrel mix of Springwatch and charity telethons. Beamed live from the Newcastle Dog and Cat Shelter at picturesque Benton Farm, Steve Jones, Kate Quilton and supervet Noel Fitzpatrick set themselves the arbitrary but laudable task of finding homes for every single beast in the shelter, as well as showcasing other furry candidates from across the UK.
Amid the often entertaining free-for-all of making live TV with animals, the message remained impressively consistent: if you’re thinking of buying a pet, consider a rescue animal first. There were tears, cheers and a rascally goat called Houdini. Usually the shelter might expect to rehome 15 animals a week. After the supervet squad swooped in, that number jumped to 88, leaving the kennels and cages 80% empty.
While all for a good cause, Animal Rescue Live ended up going muzzle-to-muzzle with the rest of the UK’s pet shows, which seem to gravitate towards that early evening 8pm slot. Tuesdays means The Dog Rescuers with Alan Davies, now in its fifth season. While the stories can be heartbreaking as well as uplifting – with cameras following RSPCA inspectors as they investigate reports of animal cruelty – you can usually rely on at least one funny moment when Davies hunkers down among an excitable pack of hounds and momentarily disappears, his hair the perfect camouflage.
This Thursday is the last in the current run of 10 Puppies and Us, a BBC2 documentary series that shadows new owners with newer pooches for their first six months together. As you might expect, this involves a lot of toilet accidents and slobbered-on furniture. While some of the family vignettes have contained a little grit, the opening titles are pure candyfloss, an Instagram-ready barrage of primary colours and slo-mo, with lovable scamps horsing around an idealised home to a plinky-plonk soundtrack.
It might be teeth-meltingly twee at times but 10 Puppies and Us is still far more bearable than the current nadir of pet programmes, Teach My Pet to Do That. Even with the affable Alexander Armstrong in charge, ITV’s new Friday night show is a joyless drag, nothing more than a craven attempt to reverse-engineer the popularity of YouTube videos of pets doing something clever or unexpected by rounding up some volunteers – dogs, cats, the occasional New Zealand Kunekune pig – and, with their owners on the sidelines, brainwashing them into doing pointless parlour tricks. Somewhere, Barbara Woodhouse is rolling over in her grave.
A fortnight ago, I callously suggested that this dog of a show deserved to be put down. After a week of Animal Rescue Live, I could never wish that fate on anything. But maybe Austin the miniature horse could be conditioned to retrieve a remote control and automatically change channel when he hears the Teach My Pet to Do That theme tune. A sugar cube well-earned.
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