Warm-fuzzy stories get far more than 15 minutes of fame

CAROL MCALICE CURRIE
Statesman Journal
August 6, 2004

There’s not much that moves the media faster than a warm-fuzzy animal story. And occasionally the press, in its race to report on a fun-with-fur piece, can forget about the impact sudden fame has on human beings.

Case in point: When employees around the Statesman Journal newsroom got wind Wednesday of our Chihuahua-nursing-a-chipmunk story for Thursday editions, bets were waged on how long it would be before the dog, its owner and the rodent were plastered on TV screens across the valley.

I missed it by this much — picture a quarter-inch pinch between thumb and index finger.

I expected Imogene Wills (who goes by “Ike”) would hear from the Portland television stations by 9 a.m Thursday morning at the latest. Others guessed earlier. But Ike didn’t get the first call until 10 a.m.

By 11:30 a.m, crews from KATU, Channel 2 and KGW, Channel 8, had been in Ike’s southeast Salem living room. Under the glare of bright lights, Ike told the story of how her sweet and scruffy little Buffy had become a surrogate mom to an abandoned chipmunk named Marty, who weighed less than an ounce but was now thriving at an ounce plus. It was big-city attention that left the 70-year-old feeling a little camera-shy.

“I’m not the story,” the widow said, pointing to her dog, “Buffy is. She’s such a proud momma. Just look at her; I think she's taking it very well.”

No one could argue. The bright-eyed Buffy was riding shotgun in a playpen that held a dog bed covered in baby receiving blankets. She was out in front of her week-old daughter, a black Chihuahua named Buffy’s Little Ike, and Marty. The cameras could get close, but not too close or else Buffy would bare a tiny a bit of curled lip, fold one floppy ear and give a guttural growl.

She might not have given birth to Marty, but she was protecting the curled ball of striped Chip-and-Dale wannabe like it was one of her own. As if to prove it, she nursed Marty alongside Little Ike with one eye always on who she must have anthropomorphically dismissed as the meddlesome media visitors.

And then Ike got another call promptly.

Only it wasn't Channel 6 jockeying for star video. This one was from the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife. District Manager Sue Knapp had read the story, too, and was concerned for Ike and Buffy's safety.

“Chipmunks can carry disease like plague and rabies,” Knapp said, “and we don’t want to see anyone get hurt. So we’ve talked to Imogene and established that this is a temporary basis. When Marty is healthier, Imogene's going to see to it that he is released back into the wild.”

The ODFW also informed Imogene that she needed a wildlife holding permit. Knapp planned to visit the Wills' home Thursday afternoon, along with another TV crew, and give Imogene the necessary paperwork. Knapp couldn't speculate on the cost, but she also was going to put Imogene in touch with local wildlife reha-bilitators so that the rodent would have a better chance at reentering the wild.

“We just don't want Imogene or her dogs to be bitten, and we want people to know that wildlife can never be domesticated," Knapp said.

I left Ike with her “13 or 14 or 15” Chihuahuas and her newfound celebrity. Neighbors moving trash cans on the street shouted questions to their now-famous dog owner next door.

Imogene smiled and, adjusting to the role, mused, “I’d sure like to see her on Animal Planet. That’s the papa dog’s favorite channel.”

I give the Discovery Channel 45 minutes.



ccurrie@StatesmanJournal.com or (503) 589-6905