O LASSIE, LASSIE, WHERE HAE YE GONE?

Thursday, May 15th, 2014 | Uncategorized

Dear Readers,

I’m going to keep a notice here at the top of the screen to let folks know they should be sure and scroll down to the “Help our Host” post, and also the “AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT” where you can enter the

    First Unofficial, MCJ Worldwide Humor Roundup and Metaphysico-Theologo-Cosmolonigological Challenge

Bill (not IB)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I’m a late-end “baby boomer”, born in 1958. Many of the “classic” television series are amongst my early memories, from “Captain Kangaroo” to a local childrens talent show, “Skipper Sam.” Even thinking of it now makes me cringe; I suspect that the terrified 5-8 year olds who, prodded by their parents, showed off their tap dancing and baton twirling abilities probably never lived it down.

On the weekends, Saturday morning had such offerings as the Three Stooges, Sky King, Shari Lewis, the Bullwinkle Show, Top Cat, and (I’m not ashamed to say it) The Banana Splits.

And then every Saturday evening, there was “Lassie”. My memories of the show begin with Lassie, Little Timmy, and his Mom (played by June Lockheart) and continue through the “Ranger” years, when Lassie stayed with various Forest Rangers in National Parks.
It was very impressive to see Lassie work her wonders. Little Timmy would fall into a disused mine shaft, be trapped by a rockfall, and threatened by rising water from an underground stream. Timmy would tell Lassie “Get help, girl”, and after several shots of Lassie speeding cross-country and leaping fences, she would arrive at Timmy’s home, nuzzle Timmy’s mom, and give three or four plaintive barks. Timmy’s Mom would exclaim, “Timmy is trapped in the old mine and about to be drowned by an underground stream”, and then rush off to get the police, fire department, and a scuba team, whom Lassie would unerringly lead to poor Timmy just in the nick of time.

Lassie, you have met your match:


Family cat saves boy from dog attack

A Bakersfield, California boy was the subject of a vicious attack by a dog while he was playing in his driveway on his bicycle. The boy received only minor injuries, but things might have been much different if not for the family cat.

Video from surveillance camers shows the boy playing alone outside on a sunny day. Suddenly, and with no provocation, the dog runs up to him and bites his leg.

The dog continued the attack, trying to carry the boy away from his home when, from out of nowhere, the family’s cat Tara comes running up and jumps in front of the dog – placing herself between the boy and the out-of-control dog. A few moments later, Tara chases the dog, sending it running away in fear.

The boy, 4 year old Jeremy, required only a few stitches for his injuries, and is doing well, according to the family. “Tara is my hero”, Jeremy said to reporters after the incident.

The dog (owned by a neighbor) is now under observation by Bakersfield Animal Control, and will be euthanized.

Postscript: In researching this post, I was very surpised to find that:

1) Campbell Soups was the sponsor for all 19 years of Lassie’s television presence (17 years of original programming and 2 years of re-runs), and

2) Lassie remained in the 7:00PM Saturday time slot for all 17 years.

Bill (not IB)

27 Comments to O LASSIE, LASSIE, WHERE HAE YE GONE?

Katherine
May 15, 2014

We had an 18-pound cat who would walk at heel with us around the block, except when he detoured to terrorize neighborhood dogs.

Bullwinkle! I miss Bullwinkle!

FW Ken
May 15, 2014

Youngster. I remember Jeff, who preceded the rather insipid Timmy. Well, they actually overlapped, but it eventually became all Timmy and when Grandpa died, Jeff and Mom left Timmy and Lassie to a new family.

sybil marshall
May 15, 2014

Our first cat, the late and truly great big orange tiger, Saturn (for whom all ensuing cats have been indirectly named, named as they were/are for moons of Saturn), educated quite a few dogs (including very large ones)who made the mistake of coming onto our property. He would puff up, get up on his tiptoes, and walk very slowly but very deliberately toward the dog, growling an increasingly loud growl. The dog would be amused at first, then blustery, then freaked out, as Saturn just kept coming, and then it would be like someone flipped a switch– Saturn would charge and the dog would flee. Kitty always stopped once he had run the dog off the property, and sat down and waited to see if the dog had had enough, then came trotting back to resume supervising flowerbed work or whatever.

This was back before life got too fast and too perverse to let kitties outdoors anymore, of course.

It was pretty hilarious, since we don’t like dogs and like their dogpiles even less. Some friends of ours had a cat that would leap, screeching, onto the dogs’ backs and ride them out of their yard, swatting at ears and faces the whole time, so Saturn was actually pretty mild as these things go. He was very gentlemanly about everything, even the vet– except for when we brought KFC into the house, when he would totally forget all his manners and have to be put in the bathroom until tidbits time. No idea why– anyone else have that history? The Colonel’s Secret Recipe contains ‘nip? LOL

Ed the Roman
May 15, 2014

My first cat ran a golden off the porch one day.

Ed the Roman
May 15, 2014

THIS cat is a bad mother-shut-yo-mouth:

Therese Z
May 15, 2014

Bullwinkle is on my cable system nightly at 10 pm. It wears extremely well. The Banana Splits, on the other hand, not so much.

Jill C.
May 15, 2014

Och, aye, Bill (not IB), you’re a Generation Jones kid, just like me! (Altogether now — one banana, two banana, three banana, four . . ;) Therese Z is correction about Bullwinkle though.

Bring back Mr. Green Jeans!

J.M. Heinrichs
May 16, 2014
Frankie N
May 16, 2014

Lassie was okay, but Rin Tin Tin was my favorite! I can still sing the song from it (heartily embarassing my children)

Maxine
May 16, 2014

The dog was distracted by the boy, and the cat saw his chance for a little payback.

Allen Lewis
May 16, 2014

I was born a bit earlier and remember the original Lassie. It was always amazing that they could figure out what had happened to Jeff or Timmy or Tommy or whoever the young boy was.

I really liked Sky King and the Songbird, though.

Dale Matson
May 16, 2014

I watched Lassie for years. It is a bit of a puzzle to me as I reflect, how cookies and milk constituted a farm lunch. Mad Magazine did a wonderful takeoff many years ago called “Lizzie”. In Lizzie, it turned out that the Nobel Prize winning Lizzie was actually a midget in a dog suit. I recently posted an article on ‘my Lassie’, Susie the Airedale.
http://midsierramusing.blogspot.com/2014/05/susie-airedale-my-trail-companion-part-i.html

Jacob Morgan
May 16, 2014

Regarding Bullwinkle, the producer, Jay Ward, used to do outrageous stunts to promote the show. He once bought a small island near Minnesota and had a petition campaign for statehood for Moosylvania. Finally a lot of signatures were obtained so he and a group of outlandishly dressed people went to the White House to deliver it. An armed guard told them to get the #%?! out of there. Only later did they figure out the Cuban Missile crisis was at it’s height.

SouthCoast
May 16, 2014

Sgt. Preston!!! “Home, King!!!”

Fr Charles Threewit
May 16, 2014

We once had a dachsy and young siamese tom, both of whom had been regularly whupped up on by a great big grey tom from somewhere in the neighborhood. One day, the big grey tom was working the siamese over when the dachsy jumped, and together, they discovered that they could whip the grey tom. After that, you would see them together, patrolling the limits of our yard, hoping to encounter the grey tom.

Jacob Morgan
May 16, 2014

Sgt Preston is still on TV where I live. It appears to have been designed as a sort of televised radio show, it is there on TV but the dialogue is such that it could have been broadcast as a radio show (presumably it was). It does make the TV version a little comical–people are not normally that descriptive of their surroundings.

Dale Price
May 16, 2014

We once had a dachsy and young siamese tom, both of whom had been regularly whupped up on by a great big grey tom from somewhere in the neighborhood. One day, the big grey tom was working the siamese over when the dachsy jumped, and together, they discovered that they could whip the grey tom. After that, you would see them together, patrolling the limits of our yard, hoping to encounter the grey tom.

When I was a kid, we got our family mutt terrier, Trixie, about four years after we obtained our timid tomcat, Shane. Shane was about 18 pounds of male entitlement, the only sign of a Siamese heritage being his excessively loud yowl. Despite that, he was a softie, and while he hissed a good game, he never lashed out at anything other than the occasional mouse. He was not thrilled to share the house with a dog, but after about three years, mutt and cat had reached a modus vivendi.

At the time, there was a vicious, ratty tomcat that roamed the neighborhood tormenting weaker animals and kids (he bit me once). One day, he cornered Shane in our backyard and was trying to attack him. Trixie heard the commotion and charged at the door to the backyard with a weird, guttural snarl. I popped open the back door, and Trixie took off after ratcat like a wire-guided missile, the snarl growing in intensity. Ratcat forgot all about Shane as he watched Death approach, and just barely made the trees behind our house split seconds before Trixie’s teeth.

Shane and Trixie got along a lot better after that.

Dale Matson
May 16, 2014

I used to listen to Sgt Preston on the radio. When Sgt. Preston made it to the cabin in a howling blizzard, he would step inside, close the door and ……complete silence. They don’t make cabins like that anymore. One of the best mounty movies of all time was “Death Hunt” starring Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin. (1981)

CarolynP
May 16, 2014

Amazing quality in that surveillance video.

Jacob Morgan
May 16, 2014

Used to live out in the country on a few acres. A dog showed up one day so he became the family pet, then later on a cat showed up. A huge dog, part Newfoundland I think. Anyway, he showed up with frost covering him and bleeding in the drive way one morning (I think his prior owner got tired of him and tried to kill him, but aimed high and only hit him with a handfull of shot), so the wife took him to the vet to patch him up, and he’s been with us ever since. The cat had a very high prey drive, used to catch mice and rats in the woods. By catch I mean massacre. I had no idea there were so many rodents until they were dragged up onto the porch in piles, like it was a mourge after a civil war battle.

I suppose the cat ran out of above ground varmints because one day she talked the dog into digging up moles. The dog would dig them up then she would move in for the kill. They made a good team. Easiest time I ever had at getting rid of moles in the yard. In the winter the cat would sleep on top of the dog to stay warm.

SJT
May 16, 2014

I had a boss in the early 90s who had wonderful stories about his cat Harold. Jim was a bachelor for many years (he was married by the time I knew him) and Harold was his faithful companion. They had many adventures together. Harold, a large tabby, was about 20 years old when I was working for Jim and retired from adventures.

My favorite Harold story: At one point in time, Jim had a neighbor with a German Shepherd. If Jim and Harold were outside when the neighbor walked his dog, the neighbor would sic the dog on Harold. Harold would run up a tree and Jim would tell the neighbor, “I don’t think you should sic your dog on my cat.” One day Jim and Harold were outside when the neighbor came by with his dog and, sure enough, he sicced the dog on Harold. Harold apparently had decided he’d had enough of this dog so he leapt up and bit the dog on the neck, biting through a major artery. The dog keeled over and quickly bled to death. Harold sat down and quietly cleaned himself. The neighbor was, of course, very shocked and said to Jim, “Your cat just killed my dog!” To which Jim replied, “I told you not to sic your dog on my cat.”

Deacon Michael D. Harmon
May 16, 2014

We call our golden retriever, Liberty, the Omega Dog because she’s as far from an alpha dog as it is possible to get. She and the two cars love each other and they are often curled up in one pile on the bed or the couch. We had her for more than a year before she barked for the first time (we looked at each other and asked, “Who barked?” before realizing it was her) when someone she didn’t know came into the driveway, and she still has that habit (a good one), and she will get her back up when my wife is alone in the car with her if a stranger comes over, but for the most part she is an utter pushover with the entire neighborhood. The acid test — the mailman invites her to come out so he can pat her and have her shiver all over with delight when he does.

Deacon Michael D. Harmon
May 16, 2014

Cats, not cars. It’s hard to get her out of cars, though. She keeps asking to go around the block one more time.

Ed the Roman
May 16, 2014

Omega dog is an actual term in biology, and it means what you think.

Katherine
May 16, 2014

Our springer spaniel’s best friend is the UPS delivery guy. He’ll stop in the street and get out to say hello to her even if he doesn’t have a package for us.

Marie Blocher
May 16, 2014

Tara considered the boy her private play toy and wasn’t about to let the mutt destroy it.

Baillie
May 17, 2014

>Deacon M,

I’m glad it wasn’t cars – they would need to have Tiger Paws.

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