DON'T KILL THE DOG! by Meg Mims

What's with western movies where the dog ends up a victim? At an early age, I cried buckets when a Civil War family rescued Old Yeller (in the movie by the same name) but had to put him down after the dog fought a rabid wolf and contracted the disease. AUUUGH! At least Old Yeller is a hero, having saved the family. Yes, it's part of the "rite of passage" for the young kid - learning to face life and death. But... it still stinks like old dog breath.

By the way, Spike - the dog who played Old Yeller in the movie - was purchased as a pup from the Van Nuys Animal Shelter in California by trainers Frank and Ruddy Weatherwax of Lassie fame. And he starred in other movies as well. Good old Spike! Good dog.

I didn't even like when Jack the brindle in the Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House books died - but that was a natural death from old age. When it comes to violence toward animals, though - we've seen the "no horses were harmed in the making of the film" - but what about the dogs? Isn't it bad enough that westerns have so many gunfights? Native Americans and Chinese are mistreated, women are ordered around, expected to rustle up the grub, are slapped, spanked, beaten up, you name it.

Yes, I suppose that reflects what Hollywood believes "the way things were" back then - but why kill the DOG? I mean, LOOK AT THOSE PRECIOUS FACES!!

So in that vein, as a treat (pun intended), here are a few western films where the dogs are victims - some heroic, others tragic. I have never seen a good reason for the plot to include pooch target practice. I rescue dogs and cats in my books and they always have a Happily Ever After. No apologies, either. In the way the Duke might say, "You can call me a PETA lover, you can call me a big baby, you can call me a wimp - but you don't EVER call me a dog killer!"

BIG JAKE - Jacob McCandle's heroic friend (and secret weapon) Dog, who is a hero throughout the movie for keeping the bad guys at bay, is shot and then killed (with a machete!! AUUGH) in the final gunfight. I didn't cry, but I kept yelling, "Don't kill Dog! Don't you kill Dog!" Man, that villain didn't listen. I'm glad he got it in the end. He deserves to rot in hell. By the way, two collies named Silver and Laddie (Lassie, Jr.) played Dog (trained by Bob and Ruddy Weatherwax, in fact) and their coats were darkened by an aerosol product. And Laddie won a 1971 PATSY award for his performance. So there. Good dog!

DANCES WITH WOLVES - While "Two Socks" is actually a wolf, Dunbar played by Kevin Costner has a strong bond with him like man/dog. I loathed the way soldiers kill poor Two Socks. Tragic and senseless! Yes, I suppose it furthered the story, but it was like killing Harry Potter's owl. NO! I was so mad. Good thing it came at the end of the movie, or I would have hated Kevin Costner and his movie - Oscar winner or not.

OPEN RANGE - I have this DVD. I have not watched it, mostly because Boss and Charlie's dog Tig is shot and killed by the villain (okay, yes, so is Mose the cook, and the poor boy is nearly dead) when their campsite is raided. Do I want to subject myself to seeing this senseless act? NO! Look at that ADORABLE dog! Waaaah! One day I'll have to watch it. But I'll be gritting my teeth.

HONDO - Hondo's dog Sam dies after being speared. Another one I've never watched, because WHY? Why does the DOG have to die?? I just don't get it.

Pal, the dog that played Sam, was the son of Lassie. In the movie, he is supposed to be vicious and ill-tempered, but the temperatures during filming were so hot, Pal simply panted instead of snarling when on camera. In order to overcome this, the dog was kept in a special air-conditioned crate while on set and was only brought out for his shots. Good dog! Fight against being a bad dog, and what a shame you had to be sacrificed. Boo hisss!

PALE RIDER - I have seen this one. I was so mad when Megan's dog got shot. That poor thing was used as a device to get her to pray for a miracle - and then Preacher (Clint Eastwood) shows up. Nothing else can be found about this poor dog. Perhaps Clint didn't want to share the limelight? Double boo hiss.

THE ARTIST - Since the story about the transition from silent films to "talkies" takes place in Hollywood, I'm considering it a "western." And the sweet Jack Russell terrier is also a hero, saving the life of George Valentin from a disastrous fire. Also, the dog LIVES!! Hooray! So there, Hollywood. It can be done.

Uggie had been rescued from being sent to a shelter by Omar Von Muller, an animal trainer, and found fame in Water For Elephants before The Artist. Uggie did not qualify for an Oscar, however, since a precedent was set in 1929 when Rin Tin Tin actually received more votes for Best Actor - but the Oscar went to Emil Jannings that year. Hmph. Uggie recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge (this month) at 13 years old. Such a great dog!

Kudos to all the dogs in these films! They all deserve a "Pawscar" for their efforts. Good dogs! Give 'em a box of treats each.

Mystery author Meg Mims earned a Spur Award from WWA and also a Laramie award for her western historical mystery series, Double Crossing (still 99c!) and Double or Nothing. Meg -- also one-half of the writing team of D.E. Ireland for Agatha-Award nominated mystery series featuring Eliza Doolittle & Henry Higgins for Minotaur books -- lives in Southeastern Michigan with her husband and a sweet Malti-poo. She loves reading and writing novels, novellas and short stories, both contemporary and historical.

Jim Griffin: Horses, Dogs, and Texas Rangers

 Howdy,

My name’s Jim Griffin, and I’ll be the regular 2^nd Thursday of the month contributor on the Western Fictioneers blog.

As a brief introduction, my main loves, not in any particular order, are horses, dogs, (especially small dogs), the Texas Rangers, and New Hampshire, particularly the southwest corner, otherwise known as the Monadnock region. Now, some of you are no doubt scratching your heads and saying, “horses, dogs, Texas Rangers, all right. But what in the world does New Hampshire have to do with anything Western?” The answer is, not much, except for this. The first use of branding to identify livestock, which just about everyone assumes started with the large free-roaming longhorn cattle herds in Texas and then spread throughout the West, actually was in New Hampshire. And the livestock branded weren’t cattle, but those critters anathema to the old time cattleranchers, sheep. Yes, sheep… woolies…mutton. Branding sheep in New Hampshire and later other parts of New England started back in Colonial times, even before the United States existed as a country. Just like western cattlemen grazed their herds on common land, identifying ownership by brands, in colonial New England animals, mostly sheep and swine, were pastured on common land, usually called the town common. Unlike the typical image of a nice patch of green land surrounded by neat white houses and a white-steepled church, the common or green was usually either dusty or muddy (depending on the weather and time of year) from grazing and rooting livestock, and trash-strewn besides. But we can still thank the farmers of New Hampshire for introducing branding to the New World. And of course some New Hampshire folk headed West to help settle the frontier. Several fought at the Alamo, and many in the Civil War. As people from New England’s land, never very fertile to begin with and extremely rocky, played out, plenty of New Englanders headed West to start again.

Now on to things more Western. I’ve had horses most of my life, and can’t imagine having to live without one. I still think the infernal combustion engine is the creation of the devil, and the world would be better off with fewer cars and more horses. Maybe we’d all learn to relax a bit more and get along with each other better, too, if more of us rode horses. It’s hard to stay angry when you’re on the back of a good horse.

As far as the Texas Rangers, I’ve been fascinated by the organization since I was a kid. Have a friend who just retired from the Rangers, and got to know enough about them that I’m considered an amateur and unofficial historian of the outfit, although I sure don’t claim to be an expert. I’ve collected a whole passel of Texas Ranger artifacts over the years, which are now in the permanent collections of the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame and Museum in Waco, Texas. It’s a great museum to learn about the Rangers. If any of you are down Waco way be sure to stop it, and see some of my stuff. Most is in the Texas Rangers in Popular Culture Gallery, and the items get rotated in and out.

And that’s the lead-in for the chance to mention my books. I’ve got two series of Texas Rangers novels in print, plus one stand alone book, and some more in the works. Not to mention a whole bunch of stuff all over the web.  And of course stories in both Western Fictioneers anthologies, and am one of the contributors to the WF Wolf Creek series. My novels completely traditional Westerns, no avant-garde edgy stuff or western mixed with science fiction ala The Wild Wild West. You’ll find straight-shootin’ good guys, nasty bad guys, brave women, smart horses, and plenty of fist-fighting action and shooting in my stories. You won’t need to be afraid to let your kids (or your mama) read most of ‘em.

One other passion of mine is traveling all over the West, although I don’t have the chance to do that as much as I used to. My first trip west I was headed to a job in San Diego, and at an overnight stop in Midland, Texas my hosts offered to take me on a trail ride to let my horse stretch his legs, since he’d been riding in a horse trailer behind my ‘65 Impala for three days, and the previous stops only had small corrals for him. Started the ride, and after a couple of miles of sand and more sand I finally had to ask where was the beach? Here, where there’s sand, there’s usually a beach. Not in west Texas.

Other big surprise was when I first saw the Rocky Mountains. Kept wondering why they didn’t look all that high, not much higher than a lot of the mountains here in northern New England. Then it hit me that when you first see the Rockies you’re already a mile or more above sea level. So, a 12,000 foot mountain seen from 6,000 feet altitude on the plains doesn’t look much higher than one of our 6,000 footers seen from 700 feet above sea level.

So, enough of this introductory stuff. Next time around I’ll promise to talk Rangers, horses, books, and maybe even a dog or two. Not all at the same time, of course. And if any of you have any questions on the above subjects, I’d love to hear ‘em.

Jim