Luke was barely 6 months old when he appeared in the 1914 comedy “The Knockout.”
J. Mark Powell
Back in the 1940s, comedian W.C. Fields had this advice for colleagues: “Never work with children or animals.” He knew what he was talking about because kids and critters can steal a scene. Moviegoers have a particular soft spot for dogs, and there’s a long list of four-legged stars to prove it.
Before there was Lassie and Rin Tin Tin, before there was Benji and Beethoven and Air Bud and too many other canines to count, one pooch, in particular, started the trend. Hugely popular in his day, he’s forgotten now, eclipsed by those bigger stars that came later. His tale is worth recounting.
And it all started thanks to a cheapskate.
The 1910s were an exciting time for a newlywed couple. Not only was their marriage new, but the actor and actress were plunging into the brand-new movie business, too. Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, who tipped the scales at more than 300 pounds, was a roly-poly teddy bear with whom moviegoers quickly fell in love. His attractive wife, Minta Durfee, was also making a name for herself on the infant silver screen.
Fatty took to moviemaking like a duck to water. He instinctively understood the new medium and mentored such rising talent as Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and even a young Bob Hope. By 1913, he and Minta were quickly part of the new Hollywood royalty.
That same year, Minta made a movie for director Wilfred Lucas that required her to perform a dangerous stunt. He promised her something extra for going above and beyond the call of cinematic duty. When the film was finished, she received her bonus: a 6-week-old American pitbull terrier puppy.
Though tightwad Lucas may have thought he’d pulled a fast one, he gave away the goose that laid the golden egg.
Fatty and Minta named him Luke (as a reminder of Lucas’ parsimoniousness). Having no children, they loved their new family member.
Luke was barely 6 months old when he appeared in the 1914 comedy “The Knockout.” It also contained a very early appearance of Chaplin’s “Little Tramp” character. Though the movie was a hit, and Fatty and Minta got good laughs, audiences left the theater talking about the quirky man with the funny little mustache and the adorable puppy.
With that, two new stars were on their way.
Luke increasingly turned up in Fatty’s films. It’s not just that he was cute; he had acting chops, too. He could do impressive tricks with perfect skill. He was soon credited onscreen as “Luke the Dog,” and in 1915, he shared the title in “Fatty’s Faithful Fido.” Luke was becoming a star in his own right.
Fans couldn’t get enough of his lovable antics. Luke chased bad guys with zeal, climbed ladders, swam in the ocean, and jumped from rooftop to rooftop on command.
His big moment of glory came in “Fatty’s Plucky Pup.” Luke steals the show in the 26-minute laugh fest as he outwits dogcatchers and even saves Fatty’s girlfriend from crooks.
In 1920, Fatty made headlines by signing a contract with Paramount Pictures for $1 million a year (about $17 million today). Luke the Dog was doing well for himself by that time, too, hauling in an extra $150 a week (almost $2,500 in 2024 dollars). The future looked dazzlingly bright for both entertainers.
Then, in an instant, it fell apart.
Fatty and Minta separated in 1921. Later that year, Fatty was caught up in a notorious sex scandal where an aspiring actress was raped at a lurid party and died afterward. The fallout was so immense it ruined Fatty’s career and came close to killing the entire motion picture industry. After three highly publicized trials and three acquittals, Fatty’s reputation was forever ruined. (He died, a broken man, in his sleep a few years later at age 46.)
When the Arbuckles’ divorce was finalized in 1926, Minta received custody of Luke. However, the decree specified Fatty had visitation rights.
Because Luke’s image was so closely intertwined with Fatty’s, his acting days were finished. Luke didn’t seem to mind. He had a happy retirement until he passed away at age 13 in 1926.
Many years later, an associate recalled legendary director Mack Sennett’s fondness for the pup. “Mr. Sennett used to call that dog his most dependable performer. He never needed to be told twice what the scene required. And Luke never asked for a raise, which made him happy.”
In time, other dogs went on to bigger fame in Tinsel Town. Rin Tin Tin appeared in 27 movies. Lassie even rode the gravy train all the way to a 20-year successful run on TV.
And quiet, modest Luke the Dog had paved the way for both of them.
Holy Cow! History is written by novelist, former TV journalist and diehard history buff J. Mark Powell. Have a historic mystery that needs solving? A forgotten moment worth remembering? Please send it to [email protected].
