Thank You

On July 5, 1991, Perfesser Chaos and I -- just engaged, still in graduate school -- counted out five fifty-dollar bills and came home with the better end of the deal.

Within a week we were semi-desperately looking for a bigger job for the little German shepherd we'd brought home to be our backpacking companion and my teaching assistant.

Within two months we were setting up puppy SAR runaway tasks, more or less with puppy in one hand and instruction book in the other.*

Within four months we had found our first SAR unit, and been informed that we'd somehow avoided ruining our puppy, who looked to be a pretty good SAR prospect.

Within a year (!) Lilly had fielded on her first search, and made her first live find. Precocious, much?

Over a decade of working partnership, thirteen and a half years of wisdom and tolerance and gentle companionship. Over half my SAR career under her tutelage.

Thank you, Lilly. Thank you for the last twenty years of my life.


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*NB: I recommend this route to no one.

Veterans

What appeared to be a grass hut loomed up ahead of the advancing man and dog. It was a camouflaged pillbox. Rowell watched flame spurt from its wall as its hidden machine gun swept the beach he had left. Then as the handler later reported, "things happened pretty fast."

The leash jerked from his hand. There was a swirl of sand and a streak of brown hide. In seconds, Chips was inside the pillbox. An appalling noise -- wild shrieks and murderous growls -- cut through the racket of battle. An enemy machine gunner staggered out, a snarling, slashing fury at his throat. The three remaining members of the crew followed, hands up in surrender. Rowell called Chips off before the raging dog could kill his adversary.

History of Dogs for Defense, Fairfax Downey, 1955

Kick Me

The turkeys have been bullying Sophia.





She's the largest dog here. She's the only one who has ever seriously injured another animal. (Forgot about all those murdered groundhogs for a minute there ...) Her people routinely take down bad guys, both for fun and for real. Yet the birds see a giant "Kick Me" sign on her ass.

Last week they got her cornered on the front porch; we looked out to see her cowering against the door, hackled from occiput to tail-tip, growling and snapping. The birds were not impressed. We had to let Rosie out to serve them, as she does in this clip.

Yet tiny Rosie, and even tinier Cole, easily drive or gather the turkeys, put them up in their coop, and generally keep order in the flock. The turkeys don't even think about giving any crap to any of the English shepherds. Notice the space they give Pip and Rosie in the clip.

At the moment they are cooped most of the time -- not for stalking the German shepherd, but for their serial acts of vandalism and hooliganism up in the village.

The neighbors didn't tell me about the "visits" -- or the turkey crap on their Weber grills, broken porch tchotchkes, stolen pet food -- until they'd been at it a week and developed a habit. When my neighbor came to tell me about the attempted theft of his Christmas lights, Rosie, Cole and I had to drive them home from over half a kilometer away.

This a long way to chase a dozen turkeys.

Now I only let them out for about an hour before bedtime, when I can keep an eye on them.

Photo Phriday: Quaaaaak!

No ducks were harmed in the gang-creaming of this German shepherd.

The Prepotent Trademark?

The Original

Rin-Tin-Tin is a trademarked term.

Who knew?

At least, one Daphne Hereford of Crocket Texas owns the tradmark rights to "Rin-Tin-Tin" as it applies to "live puppies."

No word on what the US trademark office has to say about marketing dead puppies as "Rin-Tin-Tin."

A US distributor is releasing a 2007 Bulgarian flick, Finding Rin-Tin-Tin on DVD, and Ms. Hereford is suing to have all copies of the film drowned in a bucket destroyed.

It is not clear to me how a trademark on a term as it applies to the sale of live puppies affects the use of the proper name in a movie which, while it may take liberties with the facts, is roughly a work of art depicting a historical personage. Caninage. Whatever.

But according to the Houston Chronicle

According to the new lawsuit, Hereford's trademarks on the Rin Tin Tin name include its use for live puppies, educational presentations, a mail-order fan club, magazines, playing cards, children's books, dog clothing and dog food.

Hereford's Houston-based lawyer, Karen Tripp, said the current case is about the dilution of trademarks. "Daphne has a very strong trademark in Rin Tin Tin. Her registrations are incontestable," Tripp said.

The possible remedies are varied, Tripp said. "At the very least, there has to be a notice that these are not Rin Tin Tin dogs but actors. Her dogs are beautiful and well-trained, and she wants it clear in the marketplace," the lawyer said.

I mean, I know! Just compare these superior "linebred" descendants of the original Rin-Tin-Tin:

Daphne Hereford's "history" page

With these hideous counterfeits:

(Hint: in Eastern Europe, the wicked commies did a very good job of breeding real working GSDs, the better to oppress their population, Dearie. Dog shows were a bourgeois no-no.)

So if I make a film about the life of Rinty contemporary Errol Flynn, do I have to cast Sean Flynn to play Pop-Pop? If I wanna make a movie about Oscar Wilde, am I SOL?

There's so much not to like about this sheet-shedding tempest in a steel bowl:

• Ms. Hereford's inbreeding program
• Her "eye" for a German shepherd dog, and delusions that the beasts she owns today bear any more resemblance to great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Grandad than does any other German shepherd
• $3500 for an indifferently-bred shepherd pup, sold on a sterilization contract

Vying against

• What promises to be a truly vile direct-to-video animal-themed movie, which I now feel compelled to at least rent

(Update: It is on Netflix streaming. It is more horrible than I ever imagined. If Ms. Hereford had sued to have this film euthanized on artistic grounds, I'd have filed an amicus brief. Though it has a pretty awesome, South Parkian in its self-parody, training montage.)

You can patent a mouse or a yeast. I don't agree with it, but that's the law as it is. You can protect a bloodline of animals with hardass contracts, and it's the obligation of the civil courts to enable you to enforce those contracts.

Ownership of the name and story of a historical figure, by virtue of ownership of some of his descendants, and an aggressive trademarking campaign?

(Update: The judge says WTF?)