We’re Not Getting A Dog (A Story Largely Not About Dogs) is a storytelling show written and performed by performer Sam Freeman. Sam will be coming to the Torch Theatre on Saturday 14 February with his one-man show. Don't miss it!

Anwen from the Marketing Team chatted with him to find out more.

We’re Not Getting a Dog is described as a storytelling performance with minimal references to dogs — what inspired that title and how does it reflect the show’s heart?
I’ve tended for the last few shows to write these whimsical shows that are lovely, sweet, often funny, but given them titles that reflect that. Turns out whimsical show titles are not popular. So I’ve sold out and gone for something that is a bit more, well, ronseal, does exactly what it says on the tin… Or does it… It’s a blatant attempt to be more commercial, that comes crashing down within the first 3 minutes of the show.

What was the initial spark or idea that led you to write this piece?

I moved house and wanted to write something about making a home in a new place, but also about the people who already live there. I think we tend to know very little about those who live very close to us, which is fascinating. To be surrounded by people but also be relatively alone.

How did the structure of the show evolve during rehearsals — was it always the same story or did it transform as you developed it?

I tend to write multiple strands of the story separately and then bring them together. Rehearsals for the show are about cutting. From first rehearsal to the first show I cut around 2,000 words. Then after the first show I cut around 700 more. It’s about refinement.

Storytelling theatre requires a strong voice — how did you shape the rhythm and voice of the central narrator?

Well the central narrator is me, or rather a version of me. I tend to write to my voice’s strengths - I know where emphasis will land and where I need to pause and find moments to heighten… It’s a curious one - I’d be intrigued to see someone else perform it.

The show features everyday moments like letter-writing and jet washing — what draws you to the ordinary in your storytelling?

I like things that have universality - it’s what makes observational comedy work, we all recognise something and connect over it. That’s what theatre and comedy is for, creating connection in a room full of strangers.

Themes and Meaning

What themes are you most interested in exploring in this piece — connection, neighbourhoods, isolation, or something else?

I think love. All my shows are about love deep down - whether that’s romantic moments of lunacy, or the tender moments of love that are found in loss. Also love is what drives us all. That and coffee.

How do you hope audiences will relate to the interactions between neighbours presented in the show?

I think (and hope) they’ll find it relatable. Every street I’ve lived on there have been the neighbours who are mysteries, the neighbours who are open books, and the people who are desperate to lend you equipment for DIY. There’s also similar life experience - of love, loss, joy and sadness - on every street.

The show blends humour with quieter moments — how do you balance levity with emotional depth?

For me they act as light and dark - they create colour in the story. I saw a poet recently (and I hate poetry) who nailed it. They created this moment of emotional depth and then balanced it with a deft joke - each enhances the other.

Was there a particular moment or image that became a metaphor for the entire piece?
The image I think is roses. There’s something about nature surrounding us and growing with us. The idea that a rose can be planted but enjoyed by other people for years and years.

What do you hope audiences walk away thinking about after the performance ends?
I’d hope that they want to talk to their neighbours. I’d hope that they also think “I must tell my friends to see that.”