The LIFE IN HOLLYWOOD Series
This is because Bob complimented my dog one day a few years ago, and I was reminded of it yesterday when they had a “Newhart” marathon playing on one of the cable channels.
I kept it on while I worked, but it was very distracting because of those lovable woodsmen Larry, Darrel and Darrel, and those precocious scamps Michael and Stephanie.
I thought it was the funniest show on television back in ’85. I remember the first show too, from the seventies, which my dad loved. He never missed an episode.
There was an attempt at a show in the early nineties which fell flat, but we watched it, that Dorian and I. We were married by then and she knew I was a Bob Newhart fan, so she supported me in that effort.
So, I went through about five episodes of the old Newhart show yesterday and then Bob showed up for an interview on a late-night talk show. He looked good for being almost eighty, and although he’s slowed down a bit he was still funny. He was asked if he ever gets mistaken for someone else (jokingly, because WHO looks like that, huh?) and I thought he was going to tell about meeting my dog. He didn’t. Oh well.
Rufus was a solid black Keeshond with a curly rooster tail. He stood about yay high, and he was a sweetheart. Everybody loved him because he didn’t have a mean bone in his little body. I’d never seen him snap or snarl at anyone. He was always ready for a little love when he could get it, but otherwise he’d just mind his own business.
He’d been a Christmas gift to my mom from us, and she kept him for the first four years of his life until she had to leave everything behind one day all of a sudden, so we took Rufus in. He stayed with us for about the next ten years.
During my Hollywood period, when I was doing work in TV and film as an extra, I got booked on Reese Witherspoon’s “Legally Blonde 2: Red, White and Blonde,” which wasn’t the greatest movie ever made but it’s the only one that has Rufus in it because he got booked too.
|A screencap from the "making of" segment of the DVD, showing Rufus|
wearing a blue visor. I put it on him with the hope that it'd provide
a little color for the DAP (Director Of Photography) and he might
make the final cut of the film, but no such luck.
We were all out at Exposition Park in Los Angeles that day filming a scene depicting a “million dog march” on Washington. There were hundreds of dogs and their owners milling around, including Chuck and Grace, who I’d met on a previous gig. They had their two huskies, and we were hanging out near a catering truck while the crew set up the next big scene they were going to shoot.
Grace asked if she could get us anything because she was going to walk over to the catering truck, so we placed our orders. She returned about ten minutes later, shaking her head and kind of embarrassed. “OH MY GOD,” she said. “I think I’ve just insulted Bob Newhart!”
She told of walking up to the truck but not seeing any bananas. This was crazy, because they always have bananas at these trucks, and she really wanted one. So she asked the older gentleman standing next to her if he had any bananas today and he stammered, “I, uh.. I.. don’t, uh.. I don’t.. well.. work here. I’m actually, uh.. I’m IN the movie.”
It was Bob Newhart, who was also there to get a banana. His outfit led her to believe he was a caterer, when actually he was in costume for his character. We had no idea he was even in the movie.
She profusely apologized and he accepted, telling her it was okay because "it happens to me all the time," so she grabbed a few items and rejoined us. She was telling us the story when he came up behind her, eating a banana.
“Hey, uh.. they.. they have bananas.. they were hiding behind the cereal boxes. I brought you one.”
Yes, he stammers like that in real life. It’s not just an act after all!
He handed Grace a banana and then gave our dogs a look. “Nice dogs,” he said, with a slight grin. He’d overheard Grace telling us about meeting him and I’m sure he thought it was pretty amusing.
We thanked him and he went on his way to get ready for whatever it was he had to do.
I remember that whenever I see him, and I saw him a lot yesterday, so today I thought I’d write about it. Rufus is long gone, and although it’s not a big story or a hysterical one, to me it’s just one of those weird times when worlds collide because I think of my beloved little pal Rufus every time I see Bob Newhart, because Bob said he was “a nice dog.”
He was, Bob. He was the best.
|Rufus, enjoying his retirement after Hollywood, circa 2006.|