
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. 
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.