Plan A: About 20 years ago, I was part of the video crew for Pet Fashion Week. The newly launched trade show, which was meant to piggyback off New York Fashion Week, spotlighted pet products. The highlight of the event was a runway show where elaborately dressed human models played accessory to the true stars of the show: dogs sporting the latest in canine fashion.

The event was over the top in all the best ways. Models and dogs donned matching neon wigs, gowns, or sportswear and owned the runway by giving their very best blue steel. We expected the dog models to be unpredictable, but it turned out there was a real problem child in the lineup.

The head of the event had a gorgeous, but ill-behaved black and white collie. Despite the pooch's inability to heel, sit, or sashay, the doggie daddy cum stage mom insisted his darling be a model in the runway show. What could we do but agree?

On the day of the show, we were backstage, humans and canines dressed and waiting for their cues, when the collie sauntered over to a model and lifted his leg on hers. The sound she made was unlike anything I've ever heard. She jumped backward so quickly she practically levitated as our four-legged model insulted her in a way Tyra and Naomi could only dream of. And we were five minutes to curtain.

Plan B: I dried her foot using some scratchy paper towels and turned to survey the damage to the shoe. “I'm not putting that back on,” she said. I couldn't blame her. So I gave her two options: “Do you want to walk the runway barefoot or wear my shoes?” She gave my beat-up sneakers one disdainful look, kicked off her other shoe, and, decision made, headed backstage to strut the runway like a pro with her co-model pup.

Despite the backstage drama, the show was a hit. And that collie learned the hard way that marking your territory doesn't work in the fashion world as well as it does in the dog park. E