All Creatures Great and Stuffed, Channel 4

“Changing perceptions” is the byline that Mitsubishi gives to its sponsorship of Channel 4’s documentary slot. Animal-lovers, a constituency that surely makes up a sizable part of evening viewers, will certainly have come away from Matt Rudge’s bizarrely entertaining film All Creatures Great and Stuffed with their perceptions changed.

Against the background of more tradit animal shows like the BBC’s current Our Zoo, not to mention the innumerable lives, secret or otherwise, of cats and dogs that frolick their way periodically through the schedules, Rudge’s study of the astonishing growth of taxidermy was about the animals who have left their owners behind, but who remained so loved and valued that just laying them to rest a few feet under was never going to be an option.

'Now if you’re gay, you’re cool. The same thing with pet preservation'

It proved rich territory, mixing the emotional with the frankly strange, one which Louis Theroux might have warmed to. Rudge didn’t need to show himself in the film though: the behaviour he caught on screen, together with some richly sardonic over-voice commentary, was more than enough to introduce us to this weird world.

There were even exotic locations, if you count Holland, where giving your dead animals a new lease of life meant launching them into the sky, and Arkansas as exotic. Daniel in rural Arkansas didn’t strictly count as a taxidermist either, because he was actually into freeze-drying, a process that would see your pet spend a month or two, depending on size, in some sort of whiz-bang canister. He or she would duly emerge many pounds lighter, while you, the owner, would feel the same about your wallet, to the tune of several thousand dollars. Daniel had his own distinctive comparisons to make, too: “I can compare it to gays. Being gay used to be a horrible thing: you were ridiculed, you were outcast. Now if you’re gay, you’re cool. The same thing with pet preservation.” The tears of the grateful owners – generously Daniel allows them to pay by instalment plan – were no less real for that. (Or should that be ex-owners?)

Over in Holland artist Bart decided to mark the death of his cat Orville – with a name like that, what else was he going to do? – by putting him up into the sky, with a little help from engineer friend Arjen. Lift-off proved successful on that one, which was more than could be said for their attempt to get a shark (a mini shark, actually) airborne. Lower motor problems, apparently. The likeable pair admitted they did it all out a sense of fun, which must have made their success with the ostrich, the only bird that can’t fly ever, all the sweeter. Nor were they going to let the set-back with the shark get them down. Arjen was resolute: “I wouldn’t want to leave this world without a flying shark”.

It wasn’t much more normal closer to home, though Rudge’s UK stops in Blackburn and Southend showed that others saw taxidermy as much as a business as a calling. Nicola in Blackburn had two weeks to turn the empty high street shop she’s been loaned into an “emporium of dreams” for fans (is there a special word for them?) of stuffed animals. Opening night festivities showed she had tapped a market, and money changed hands. You might have assumed the expected reaction would be that from one lady outside who said, three times for good measure, “I don’t get it.” It looks like this Blackburn street has a new fixture, and Nicola will go on discovering the spirituality in her calling.

Down in Southend, Jayne was looking to move on from her career dispensing promo shots in nightclubs to capitalise on her love of dead animals. It all started when she used a legacy from her late mum to buy a massive stuffed lion, Aslan, because it reminded her of said deceased parent (calling all Essex therapists: Jayne and Aslan, pictured above right). But there were limits even for Jayne, whose life companion – more important we gathered than the boyfriend who admitted sagely that this was “not for everybody” – was an 18-year-old dog, Billy. Don’t ask “that question”, Jayne retorted before the question had even been popped, going on to wonder whether a cheese knife might come in handy. Billy duly passed on during the filming. Jayne was distraught. And no, she didn’t

The feeling that all these larks were basically signs of love towards the pets concerned lasted precisely until another of Jayne’s clients arrived, along with his 15-year-old cat, Poppy. The unsettling thing here being that Poppy was, er, no ex-cat at all, but one last seen travelling a train with her owner. He had come along to discuss in advance what might be done with her “upon demise”. His first thought was a pair of gloves, a scarf maybe; Jayne wasn’t sure about the gloves, there might be problems with the seams, and suggested a hat. But, no, he persisted, wondering if he could even get a couple of pairs out of the hapless feline. The indignity of it all. “Unusual, to say the least,” was all Jayne could come up with after he’d gone, reassuring us at least that the fine art of understatement was alive and well in Southend. All Creatures Great and Stuffed wasn’t really about the animals at all, but the people – and that old chestnut adage, “nowt as queer as folk”, has never rung more true.