By Guest Blogger Mary O'Donnell
A job need was identified. The job description was detailed and comprehensive, spelling out the job requirements and experience needed. The job listing was posted using both traditional and high-tech methods. The applicants responded by detailing their specific skills, experience and qualifications. They were brought in for the interview process, full of enthusiasm and groomed appropriately for the occasion. When they arrived, it was clear that while they might be enthusiastic candidates and might match some of the requirements, they were completely lacking in some of the most basic aspects required in the job.
This was a typical job posting and interview process in many respects. However, this “job” interview was for the role of Annie’s dog, Sandy, in the musical Annie. This past weekend I had the opportunity to take part in this dog interview and assessment process and observed that it was uncannily similar to the human interview process in many respects.
The producers had all the human roles cast, but needed to find a dog who fit the traditional physical description of this iconic role: big, sandy-colored (thus the name), able to take direction and do what the script required onstage, and not be easily distracted by an onstage orchestra and 
200-person audience. They started the candidate search using their personal networks and asking everyone in the cast if they had a mild-mannered and obedient dog or knew someone who did. No one in the cast did. They created the job description, put it on paper flyers and handed them out in prime dog-walking time at major dog-walking spots in the city. They also posted this casting call online on Boston’s biggest audition job board. They used their professional networking contacts (in this case at the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the local animal hospital, and local pet supply store) to generate leads and buzz about the doggie audition event. On the day of the event they wondered if any good candidates would show up.
Doggie audition day arrived, and the weather was perfect. The park selected for the event was readied with application forms, audition number tags for dog collars, dog-watering bowls, organic doggie treats (this was Jamaica Plain, after all) and poop bags (because the theater is a responsible citizen in the community). A local television station and one of Boston’s major newspapers sent reporters. And about 25 dogs showed up. Six or seven of them actually fit the physical description required for a “big, sandy-colored dog.” There was a large contingent of toy poodles, yorkies and other teeny lap dogs that absolutely did not fit the physical job requirement, but they were driven by the dream of becoming a star in the local theater scene. The producers spent quality time with each candidate, assessing each dog’s behavior around strangers and children, testing the specific skills listed on their job applications (“give me your paw” and “stay” were the most frequently mentioned skills). At the same time they made the experience fun for all, giving out free treats from a local pet store and presenting all kinds of awards for best-dressed, biggest, smallest, and most beautiful dogs.
Finally, the judges narrowed the candidate pool to five finalists who fit the basic physical requirements and were well-behaved under pressure. Their final assessment was to pass “the Annie test.” There is a famous, pivotal moment in the show when Annie befriends a stray dog, and a police officer asks her to prove the dog is hers or he’ll take the dog to the pound. Annie is nervous because the policeman is calling her bluff. She calls the dog to her using the name “Sandy,” the dog runs right to her, and the policeman leaves them alone. This was the test for our finalists. One by one the dogs were let off the leash. The little girl playing Annie stood at a distance and called “Sandy!” Guess what happened?
One by one the dogs bolted off to cavort with their new doggie friends because they had been leashed for too long on a beautiful day. They ate their free organic doggie treats, slurped their doggie frozen yogurts, played with their free doggie toys, and were happy that the assessment process was over. Unlike the human interview and assessment process, everyone left the doggie audition with a smile on their face.
Which dog was the only one to run right to Annie when called? The big sandy-colored one whose real name was “Sandy.” Maybe that should have been the key job requirement all along.
Now, before I get feedback that this process was weighted too heavily in favor of the dog named “Sandy,” I need to let you know that Sandy is going to a “callback” (the actor’s equivalent of a final interview) this week with the four other dog finalists that bolted in the park. Unlike in the human job search process where the first impression is often the only chance you get at an interview, the producers realized that the finalist dogs had been in the audition process for over an hour on a leash and clearly could have cared less about running up to a little girl who was a stranger when there were so many doggie friends nearby. They will all get a second chance and will undergo another round of skills, behavior and personality assessment. The dog that will ultimately get the role will be the one that can take direction and whose personality fits with the little girl playing Annie.
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