ORVEDAHL FAMILY HISTORY:
FROM THE PRAIRIE TO HOLLYWOOD



Tuffy's Birth and Early Training

Tuffy was born in a hole in a haystack, just the same as thousands of other dogs, in the Cheyenne Indian Reservation on what they called Red Coat Creek, near Faith, South Dakota. When Raymond and Bessie Rider gave Ger that little black, white, and tan Australian shepherd/collie mix, his intention was to make the puppy into the best-trained and most useful cow dog in the area. Ger called himself a used up, broken-down cowboy who could use the help of a good dog that could be worked with range cattle. This was 1930, after he had spent five months in a veterans hospital in Kansas City being treated for anemia brought on when a horse fell on him.

Ger believed in obedience and discipline for horses, dogs, and kids as well. He began training Tuffy when he was six weeks old, the first lessons having to do with food. He put food in front of the pup while saying "Don't touch it," and using a light slap, if necessary, to be sure the pup looked and listened. When he said, "You can have it," in a quiet, conversational tone of voice, only then was the pup allowed to eat. In this way, Tuffy learned to listen for commands and was soon eating or leaving it alone, stopping and starting whenever the command came. Soon Ger could lay out several pieces of food and have Tuffy take one or two pieces at a time, sometimes eating them as he took them or holding them in his mouth until he heard the right words.

This all took time, perseverance, concentration, and patience. Ger seldom let Tuffy out of his sight and kept the dog's mind on him. He believed that a bad habit should not be allowed to develop, so he tried to foresee anything that could happen to get Tuffy on the wrong track. He did not believe in coaxing or rewards. Obedience then loving pats and praise were his method. There was plenty of love between them. Tuffy was a sweet-tempered dog, but not timid. That is why he was called Tuffy. They were both tough. Ger never gave up on a bit of training until he won his point. Tuffy recognized him as complete master, and Ger never let him get by with not carrying out a command once it was given. He had to be careful not to ask for something impossible and was always in control of his dog.

Tuffy learned to bring many articles as they were called for by name, including a raw egg from the barn or a cellar that some hens insisted on using as a nesting place. One of the horses Ger often rode was gentle and trained to stand where the reins were dropped. Tuffy was often sent to lead the horse to Ger. Later Tuffy learned many hand signals by first using them with spoken commands.

Anecdotes of Ranch Life

In 1930 Ger was single and living with his bachelor brother Alfred. That winter, Ger was riding about eight or ten miles south of their cabin looking for some horses. The snow wouldn't quite hold a man's weight, although Tuffy could go right along on top. Ger's horse found a hole under the snow and fell, giving Ger a nasty spill. He lost everything, and the horse jumped right up and left. The horse would stay just so far ahead of him that he couldn't catch it. With only a Scotch cap, sheepskin coat, chaps, and overshoes, Ger knew he would never be able to walk all the way home.

Nonetheless, he tried. After walking about a mile and a half, he couldn't go any further. He doubted that Tuffy could lead the horse to him; this horse was more skittish than the one Tuffy had been trained to lead by the reins, but Ger had no choice but to let Tuffy try. He said "Tuffy, why don't you go and bring that horse to me." Tuffy trotted straight down and led him back, which of course he couldn't have done if the horse had been fresh.

One evening in spring, Ger ran across a heifer that had had a calf lately, but he couldn't find the calf despite riding a long time. Finally, as it was getting late, he thought he'd better catch the heifer and see if she was all right to leave. He told Tuffy to sit down and stay, a thing Tuffy had learned to do very well. About three-quarters of an hour later, Ger came back and Tuffy was gone. Ger rode and called until it was dark and then went home, mad and worried.

Tuffy was gone all night. At first daylight, Ger rode back to look for Tuffy. Finally, Ger crested a hill and saw him, or what he thought was him, way on to the west. When he got to that spot, Tuffy had left and went down in the next draw. When Ger got there, Tuffy was with a calf, about three days old. Tuffy had a bloody cut on one shoulder and a bloody face. There's no way of knowing what Tuffy fought that night. But Ger said Tuffy saved a five dollar calf at the risk of a million dollar dog.

One day, Alfred had ridden west to look over some cattle. Since Ger was the cook, he was later getting started toward the south. He and Tuffy went to the corral to get a horse. After saddling the horse, Ger decided to trim a few burs out of the horse's tail. He didn't think that this horse would kick. But it did. Ger sailed eight or ten feet and thought that his leg was broken. He crawled to the house, with Tuffy whining the whole way. Again, Ger thought Tuffy was sure to fail, and he was reluctant to ask Tuffy to do the impossible, but he wrote a note on a piece of posterboard, wrapped it in a piece of canvas, and said "Tuffy, take this to Alfred." Tuffy took off as though chasing a rabbit.

Alfred had not ridden far. He was about a mile west, but how Tuffy found him as quickly as he did is a mystery. Tuffy got back before Alfred, but not by much. As it turned out, Ger's leg wasn't broken. Nonetheless, he was laid up for a while. Tuffy was a great help around the house, retrieving wood, eggs, potatoes, or anything else Ger needed.

After fully recovering, a couple of neighbors ran quite a bunch of cattle into Ger and Alfred's corral to brand some calves and a few yearlings. Ger was working on horseback while Alfred was working on the ground. They had a yearling down, and Alfred was holding its head when the mother went on the flight and started for Alfred with her horns lowered. The cow had only about twenty or twenty-five feet of ground to cover to reach Alfred.

Tuffy knew he was supposed to stay out of the corral and had been bawled out for being in there. Yet he sprang to action without command. When the cow was only a couple of feet from Alfred, Tuffy grabbed her by the nose and chased her off.

First Performance

Although Tuffy's training was utilitarian, Ger recognized the theatrical potential of Tuffy's stunts. He and Alfred were musicians and played at dances in and around Faith. Tuffy always went along and performed a few stunts. Ger taught Tuffy to "sing" and hold the bow of his fiddle.

Tuffy's first booked show was on a bargain day Saturday in Faith, South Dakota, probably in 1932. The show was announced over a speaker, and people gathered on Main Street. The show consisted mainly of the food stunts; bringing articles such as a tobacco can, a handkerchief, an ear of corn, and a wrapped package of meat; and leading the horse from about 75 feet down the street. Ger wove these stunts into a story and pretended that he needed each of the articles and did something with each as they were brought to him. People were amazed at what a common cow dog could be taught, and Ger received some offers to buy, but by this time he was beginning to realize that Tuffy could be more valuable as something besides a cow dog.

Hollywood?

In the winter of 1933-34 Ger again became ill with anemia and his bronchial problem and went to the veterans hospital in Hot Springs for treatment. He was allowed to take Tuffy along. There he met people who encouraged him to take Tuffy to Hollywood. Among those people was a friendly theater manager from Rapid City, who gave Ger an opportunity to appear on his stage when he was released from the hospital. This gave him the confidence he needed to really become a showman. He came back to Faith, gathered his family, Ruth and one-year-old son Jesse, the equipment for camping and showing, and was on his way.

The family spent the summer of 1934 in the Black Hills area presenting performances, mostly at CCC camps. From there to Denver, where the family stayed until March 1935. They arrived in Hollywood on March 8 with very little cash but high hopes. Ger found enough shows at theaters and Legion posts to keep the family going while he tried to contact studios and make himself known. The first months in Hollywood were lean; no one was looking for dogs to act in pictures. April slipped by, then May and the summer months.

Ger, Ruth, Jess, and Tuffy were living at a tourist camp pondering their next move when their break came. Tully Marshall stopped at the filling station adjoining the place where they were staying, and while his car was being serviced, the veteran actor made friends first with Tuffy and then with Ger. Marshall mentioned the dog's talents to a production manager at Paramount, who gave Tuffy a tryout. On September 29 Tuffy was given a minor part in "Nevada," a western picture, at $70 for six days' work, with room and board for him and Ger. The next film that he appeared in, also a western, was "Drift Fence," at a salary of $15 a day for the days he worked. These films were shot at Pine Knot, in the California mountains. Producer Walter Wanger and director Henry Hathaway came to that location to film the picture "The Trail of the Lonesome Pine." After seeing Tuffy work on "Nevada" and "Drift Fence," Wanger had a part written into the script of "The Trail of the Lonesome Pine" for him. Originally, the script had no part for a dog. Ger was paid $100 per week for the eight weeks it took to shoot Wanger's film.

Established in Hollywood

Tuffy's movie career had ups and downs between 1935 and 1941. There were some lean years and some fat years. Ger supplemented his movie income by opening his own training school and training other people's dogs. His business got a tremendous boost when Tuffy was "tested" by Dr. Knight Dunlap. Dr. Dunlap, a psychologist of some repute, had been on the faculty of Johns Hopkins University before moving to the University of California at Los Angeles. After hearing much of Tuffy's supposed "intelligence," he set out to learn just how much Tuffy knew and how he had come to learn it.

With scientists in the audience at the UCLA psychology department, Ger put Tuffy through his paces. Tests included going into a room and picking out an object requested by name from a group of others, and a test on the rapidity with which he learned the name of an object he had never seen before. One of the dog's feats was to go into a room and find a coin at Ger's command: "Tuffy, I think I lost some money in there. See if you can find it." Tuffy did, and returned with a five-cent piece that had been placed on the floor by another person, so that Tuffy couldn't rely on his master's scent. Many tests were conducted with Ger standing in another room and shouting commands through a wall, so that Ger could not "coach" Tuffy away from an object picked up in error. Tuffy relied on his eyesight and truly did recognize the names of the forty-five-odd objects that he would retrieve on command.

The day after the tests were performed, Paramount issued a press release touting Tuffy's "intelligence." At the time, Tuffy was filming "Early to Bed," with Mary Boland and Charlie Ruggles. Dr. Dunlap declared, "He may not be the most intelligent dog in the world, but he is certainly the most intelligent I have ever seen." For the rest of his career as a dog trainer, Ger made great hay, and great headlines, from these "intelligence" tests.

Moving East

In 1941, while filming Brigham Young, Tuffy fell ill. Although physically healthy, advancing age and a commotion-filled career had taken a mental toll. After making a few personal appearances in theaters where The Mighty Treve was showing, the family left California and headed east. They settled in Illinois, where Ger gave school assembly programs and made appearances at country fairs.

Tuffy lived to be sixteen years old. In 1946, he had to be put down. Ger had trained Tuffet, Tuffy's daughter, while he was still in California. Tuffy, Ger, and Tuffet pose with an unidentified man
He used both dogs part of the time, then Tuffet alone. As she became too old, he trained a third dog, which he named Treve, after the dog that Tuffy had played in "The Mighty Treve." This one was of a little different disposition and a little harder to live with, but he loved to perform. In 1953 Ger became too ill to continue performing, and Jesse would sometimes take Treve to shows, but he did not enjoy being a showman. Ger died June 13, 1954.

Back to the Top


Tuffy, bring that carriage over here.


Tuffy, awaiting the next command.

The Orvedahl family, after a performance in St. Louis.

Comments, Questions, Suggestions? Contact Jerry Orvedahl at

stringer-orvedahl@erols.com