GONE TO THE DOGS

Evening Post, Volume CXI, Issue 83, 9 April 1931, Page 4

GONE TO THE DOGS

01)]) PEOFESSION

TRAINER FOR HOLLYWOOD

STRAY PUP'S RISE

Business lias gone to the clogs! Exactly, that! Forme at least, writes Henry E. East in. the "Christian •Science Monitor." The fact is, the nature of my. business is to supply trained dogs of all'types to the moving picture companies in Hollywood; and it is a very interesting and profitable business. I started with one trained dog, Buddy. Now there are 30 trained dogs in my kennels. These 30. dogs arc of every conceivable breed, and were gathered from, all parts of the country for the places they are now filling on the screen. I did not voluntarily enter this line of work. It was practically forced on to mo. So often a person feels secure and comfortable in the line of business he is pursuing, thinking his stream of activity will always run along in the same channel, when, to his amazement, he finds he has unconsciously drifted into a new course; and often the change leads into broader fields and wider opportunities—as it has for me. I was perfectly satisfied with my work as an assistant director, when Buddy was most unceremoniously thrust, upon mo in 1020. My wife, Gale Henry, was making a series of 2-1 two-reel comedies at that time, and I was assisting for her company. She used a. trained dog in each of her stories. One day a dog gag came up and there was no trained dog available. A STRAY PUP. Someone mentioned that a stray pup had been asked to leave the studio four times earlier in the day. I was dispatched to find the persistent pup and see if we could trick him into doing the "gag. After 15 minutes' search I found the pup, a mixture of fox terrier and bull dog, trying to crash the gate of a nearby studio. I hustled him back to the set and started . his training course immediately. It was necessary for the pup to lie perfectly still on a large platter. The scene was laid in a delicatessen,store, and the business was a "dissolve" from the dog on the platter to a pile of linked sausages. The pup would have to lie still for quite a few seconds while the camera turned; then the cameraman would make a fade-out, wind the film back a few feet so we would remove the- dog and substitute the sausages. Then the scene would fade in. I laid the little fellow on the platter and held his head down, saying all the while, "Hold it," in a firm but kind voice. I know I must gain his confidence. Ho mustn 't fear me, but like me ana want to please. I rewarded him with a bite of raw hamburger every time he held his position for a few moments; and he started to get the idea. Everyone present recognised him as an exceptionally smart puppy. During the next few minutes, someone had named the new canine actor Buddy. I have never found out exactly who gavo him his name. Eighteen people were watching at the time, and eighteen people have since claimed authorship of Buddy's name. Secretly, I have always had the notion that 1 named him. Several members of the company offered to give him a good home, but my wife insisted that he was to become a member.of our own household. REAL TRAINING. Then Buddy's* training 'started in earnest. I taught him "to .sit up, speak, carry various articles, scratch, yawn, and stretch—all on cue. One of his most important stunts was to padgrab, a person at any point indicated— tnd hang on until he- received the cue ■ tOslx Omraths after Buddy's first lesson lio was firmly established^ a member of'my wife's company. Then Buddy s. fame as a picture "dog began, to S^Whe'n my wife's, company closed another company asked me if I would work Buddy for them m a part with Shirley Mason. They offered me 90 dollars a week for the use of the dog. Ninety dollars was not such a small alar/for talent in those days, and I accepted. The part was difficult but Buddy was camera-wise and took direction, like an. old trouper. . His services were soon sought again mand by the producers. I was ™ Wer an assistant director. I was Buddy's personal manager. Engagements began to overlap each other? I could not take care of all the .■ills' so the idea came to me that it would be wise to start training another dog of Buddy's type. Still, of what Ssl would two aogs be with only one Xl Allowed the most natural | line of reasoning again and clecidea^o. find a trainer who could teach and work another dog for me at .the studios. TROUBLES. ' Here I met -with a little difficulty. The only- trainers I could find were men who had been using a forcefu , style in training police dogs. iheir manner of training ntU'f 7vv Z enffrom mine, and I did not like the means some of them used in. their courses. My method had been one of kindly persistence. My dog loved to work. The dogs trained by haish methods seemed to work through leal of the consequences. The trainers with whom I had contact at that time looked to me like men who would be very stubborn about giving up their own methTho whole solution was unfolded to me when a boy about 16 years of age asked me for work. He told me his name was Eud Weatherwax. He was not thinking of dogs when he first sought work. Any kind of work round my place-would .suit him. He had done small parts in pictures, but the studios wore now a little overcrowded with boy actors. I hired him to dig post holes and noticed his reaction to Buddy. He showed plainly his love for dogs. And Buddy would climb all over him at the slightest excuse. I bought another dog similar to Buddy and taught Eud how to train the new dog, which we named Beans. Eud proved to be very adaptable to his new position and ho and Beans went through dog-college together. You simply cannot beat the combination of a boy and a dog! Buddy was receiving 300 dollars a week by the time Beans was ready to face the camera. Buddy had just finished a good part with Colleen Moore in "Sally" and his fame was spreading. Eud started to train a new dog. named Chummy. I had purchased Chummy from a well-known Soalyhani kennel for 125 dollars. He was only seven weeks old when I bought him, and he looked to be as good a Sealyha.m as any of the other pups in the kennels. - Chummy w«s bought to fill the calls for. a small aristocratic . dog—the sportsman's pet—the . wealthy bachelor 's playmate. Imagine my embarrassment when, after all the patient training was completed, I found out that Chummy resembled everything else but a Sealyham. As our friend.

Charlie Mack, would''say, "he was two dogs long and half a dog high." Soon a call came in for an aristocratic dog. I look one look at. Chummy, and in-.| formed tho studio Hi at I. was sorry, but 1 happened to be. short on "dogs with blue b100d.,. Next, Hank joined our luippy family. He is a yellow cur dog without oven a pretence afc owning a pedigree, j and cost tho munificent sum of 25 cents when purchased from a barefoot boy atOcean Park. After his training was completed, Hank proved to be a won-1 tier. One of his first pictures was in I a. two-reelcr with Will liogers. When "Almost Human" was being made, I had 20 trained dogs in my kennels, and four trainers were kept busy on studio calls. Whenever a trainer was not working at tho studio, he spent his time at the kennels training new dogs and putting the oldtimers through.their paces.' "■ Many people retain the old belief that cur dogs are smarter: than thoroughbreds, and: ask mo if it is true. My. answer to their question is "positively, no." Breed has nothing to do with intelligence. Among my dogs, are curs and prize winners. ■ I find that one is as adaptable to training-as the other, as far as breed is concerned.