Sandra Bullock did not hesitate when asked who really runs her household. ‘When I’m asked who’s your favorite child, I say I have one, and it’s Sweetie Bullock,’ she said, ‘because she looks at me with love in her eyes.’ For anyone who has ever cancelled dinner plans to stay home with a dog, that answer lands like a confession and a manifesto at the same time. Across the table, Nicole Kidman was nodding. Both women had arrived at the same conclusion about animals long before this afternoon, and everything that followed only deepened it.
A rescue record that started with a two-legged Chihuahua
Bullock’s history with rescue animals is genuinely remarkable. Before Sweetie, there was Rubetella Versace, a two-legged Chihuahua who walked on her hind legs and was, by all accounts, fabulous. Before that, a three-legged dog named Poppy, also adopted. The through-line was never pedigree or convenience. It was the particular quality of love that a rescue animal returns.
Kidman brought her own roster. In Nashville, two cats and a dog share the house with enough nocturnal energy that her sister, who stays with them, describes it as ‘a whole subculture going on between all the animals.’ One of the dogs, Lily, was a rescue pulled during the pandemic. Kidman was direct about where her loyalty sits: ‘I’ve always been partial to rescues. There is an extraordinary amount of love that rescues give you, and there’s definitely a soul connection there.’
Both women are vocal about the difficulty black animals face in shelters. Bullock keeps two black cats she calls her ‘house panthers,’ and she is clear that the suspicion some adopters attach to black animals is unfounded. ‘In my opinion, they bring good luck,’ Kidman said.
What a cat sitting on a chest during chemotherapy teaches you
The conversation moved somewhere quieter when the topic of animals sensing illness came up. Kidman described watching a cat named Chanty sit on the chest of a family member going through breast cancer treatment, through chemotherapy and radiation, staring into her eyes during the hardest stretches. ‘That provided her such solace,’ Kidman said. ‘In just this steady unconditional love, it was so beautiful. I’ll never forget it.’
Bullock recognized the same pattern immediately. Sweetie, she said, would do the same thing, going to sit on a chest and staying. ‘I don’t think we as humans understand how powerful these animals are,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we deserve them. Their souls are purer than humans.’
The afternoon was organized around two specific animals in need of a home: Paula, four months old, and her brother Paulie, three months old, a bonded pair who must be adopted together. Both were available. Both spent the session charming two of the more persuasive advocates they could have found.
Paula, spelled P-A-W-L-A
Bullock made a point of spelling it out. Paula is P-A-W-L-A. Her brother is Paulie, P-A-W-L presumably. The care packages were assembled and waiting for whoever would take them home. Bullock and Kidman made their expectations clear: they wanted yearly update photos, first-day-of-school milestones, the works.
Bullock’s mother had told her something years ago that stayed with her: ‘If you take on an animal, plan to take care of it for the rest of its life. You have to take care of them like they’re your family, because they are.’
By the end of the afternoon, both women admitted they had become, in Bullock’s words, ‘unfortunately a wee bit bonded’ to Paula and Paulie. That seemed about right.
Paulie, three months old, sat in the middle of the room while the conversation wound down, apparently unbothered by any of it.
