Such is the narrowness of mind among many of my close personal friends they felt I was just going for a cheap laugh. Far from it. In a long-running soap where every character is either evil of mouth or driving people into the canal, Schmeichel has never had a bad word for ANYONE. And he has NEVER done a bad deed.
Which is surprising, because life has not been easy for Schmeichel over the past eight years. In 2007, the wretched psycho Claire Peacock drove over him in a bus. The writers never explained how tiny spineless small-armed little Claire passed the requisite physical exams to drive a big bus over such a big (200kg) dog, but soaps never make sense, we just suck it in and move on.
Schmeichel was saved on the operating table then. Two years before, the dreadful Cilla sold him to Yana Lumb. His faithful owner, poor Chesney, low on brain and with teeth like gone-off cheese, just about jacked it in then. But the dog was mercifully returned and Chesney recovered to suddenly develop high skills in mathematics and, incomprehensibly, the personality and sexual aura to attract the delightful Katy, with whom, at 16, he is now planning a family. She could be dafter than we first believed.
Chesney, we should remember, once ran away from home, such was the moral detritus swirling around his head like cheap air freshener.
He took with him not a knapsack on his back, but Schmeichel, his only friend, since he spotted him as a tiny puppy in Jack Duckworth's back yard, dog ownership at first sight.
Schmeichel's acting pinnacle came in 2008 when he bounded up the stairs and leapt into a bubbling jacuzzi filled with naked Cilla and naked Les. The whole shebang went right through the floor and landed in the lounge, confounding Fiz, as it would, and Kirk, who is confounded by everything because he is really thick. Schmeichel must have gone close to a Bafta that year, he is after all, along with Maggie Smith and Peter Capaldi, as good as British television gets.
There have been four Schmeichels.
The current one had his heart broken in real life, 2008, when his girlfriend Betty Boo, a British bloodhound, was kidnapped from the kennels where both dogs lived, Schmeichel still not missing a single episode of Coro during this trauma, the mark of a true thespian professional.
This Schmeichel is the best one, and the Thursday before last, he was all over Coro like a bad rash. Six scenes in fact, plus one which was almost his first talking role, when they had him barking out the back like a mad prairie dog until Norris burst in clutching SPCA contact details. Ironic that, for in 2007, Schmeichel was taken away by the SPCA when Kirk proved an incompetent guardian.
And ironic, too, in view of the fact Norris should have been taken away by the SPCA many years ago.
The current storyline has Fiz' baby Hope, having defied death six times in hospital, now at home, hole in heart, weighing three ounces and as delicate as a flower even a feather shouldn't touch.
Schmeichel, his germs, drool, street disease and slobber, has to go, otherwise the baby will die. Why, Schmeichel may even EAT Hope like she was a SAUSAGE! Dramatic stuff.
True Coro fans will also know in real life Fiz is terrified of dogs, and when Schmeichel stands on his back legs, he is 2m tall.
True Coro fans will also know the writers telegraph their final intentions many months in advance, and this renewal of the mighty Schmeichel can only mean he will soon be offed. How, when and why is beyond anything I could ever imagine. Will Les send for him to guard Status Quo?
Is he being lined up for Britain's Got Talent?
True Coro fans should be very very worried.
• Roy Colbert is a Dunedin writer.
