Just when we needed something bonkers to break up the rolling misery of BBC News and EastEnders, the TV gods delivered us The Pet Talent Agency: Barking Mad.
The Channel 4 documentary followed the eccentric team at Barking Mad pet talent agency in Dover, Kent, led by no-nonsense boss Karen Chamberlain.
In opening scenes, Karen was practically snogging the face off a bulldog, which, a) gave us some indication of her love for animals and, b) sent me into a corona-induced germ-fearing panic.
“She can get a bit carried away,” sighed long-suffering husband and dogsbody Pete as we saw Karen clapping in ecstasies over the gold hooves of a unicorn.
OK, it was a pony with a painted mane, but still. From dogs in clown outfits to micro pigs and tarantulas, Karen is an expert at finding the most gifted creatures for films, TV, adverts and music videos.

Outgoing llama? No problem. Obedient sheep? Sure. A zonkey? She’s got it covered. That’s a zebra crossed with a donkey to you and I mere mortals.
Karen, who started the business after her bulldogs hit the big time on a billboard, treats her pets and clients like children.
“These animals are my babies and I feel such pride when they get a gig,” she said, getting emosh and comparing it to when parents see their kids in a Nativity.
But even after we’d seen several bulldogs in tutus, this documentary hadn’t reached peak insanity. That would be Amrick.
Head of Talent, aspiring popstar Amrick, told us: “I truly believe I can read animals’ minds.” It’s clearly the staff not the clients who are barking.

Cut to scenes of Amrick “entertaining” his parents, who stood awkwardly, only to say “Very nice” and wander off muttering about earplugs.
Meanwhile, a special mention for one other stand-out team member – Karen’s yawning niece Bex, who reminded me of This Country’s Kerry Mucklowe.
“I love that girl but right now she brings very little to the business,” said Karen through gritted teeth.
But there were more important things to worry about.
Having poured their life savings into the business, Karen and Pete were battling cash flow problems.
I nearly cried for her when her grand casting call achieved only £20.
Things looked up when she got some publicity courtesy of Lorraine Kelly and a world-record attempt to make more than 100 dogs sit and stay. For 30 seconds. At the same time. They didn’t.
“I want to be top dog,” insisted Karen... a woman so endearing I considered hiring a dancing skunk just to be supportive.