Courageous Canines and Fantastic Felines

There have been many extraordinary animals throughout history. From survivors to record-setters, feat-conquerors to science-contributors, here are but a few of the extraordinary felines and canines that populate our planet's history.


Sallie Ann Jarrett

StripedDaisy, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

You might have heard of someone surprising their significant other or their child with a puppy (always do your research first), but have you ever heard of an infantry unit being surprised with a puppy? That's exactly what happened in 1861 when a four-week-old American Staffordshire Terrier puppy was presented as a gift to the newly formed 11th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry.

The puppy's cuteness was too much for them to resist, and so Sallie Ann Jarrett was adopted as the official mascot of 11th Pennsylvania. She got her name from Sallie Ann, a local person of great beauty, and the unit's commanding officer, Colonel Phaon Jarrett. Most called her Sallie for short, and she took quickly to the life of the soldiers.

Sallie participated in roll call, drills, and even parades. She trotted proudly with her infantry, allegedly earning herself a tip of the hat from President Abraham Lincoln during one such parade. Sallie was an important part of the 11th Pennsylvania unit  she was family.

She even saw battle, advancing to the very front lines to bark menacingly at the enemy, accompanying the soldiers into every one of their Civil War battles for the next four years, including Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg.

On the first day of fighting at Gettysburg, Sallie got separated from her unit and was feared dead. The surviving men found her three days later, exhausted but still guarding the dead and wounded where they had fallen. She was the only dog recorded to have seen combat at Gettysburg.

During the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House, Sallie sustained a bullet wound that eventually worked itself out of her body, leaving a prominent scar. She didn't let that stop her from serving, however! Sallie Ann Jarrett wouldn't go down easy.

Unfortunately, another bullet found its way to her in 1865 at Hatcher's Run. It was reported to have been an immediate death, the suffering on her part minimal. Nearby members of 11th Pennsylvania stopped fighting to bury her on a spot, ignoring the intense enemy fire.

When a 13-foot-tall monument was being designed for the 11th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry at Gettysburg, the remaining men of the regiment unanimously decided to include Sallie in the memorial. In 1910, a group photograph was taken of the surviving veterans at the monument, and they made sure to leave a gap in the line for Sallie to be included.

In the photo of the statue above, you can see that the top of Sallie's bronze head is burnished from so many hands rubbing and petting her.


Bud Nelson

Photo credit: Mary Louise Blanchard (Retronaut)

The first dog to ride in a car across the continental United States would totally have invented sticking your head out the window if there had been windows on the car! Instead, the 1903 Winston (nicknamed "the Vermont") was an open-air automobile, so there were no windows to stick one's head out of.

The humans who were with him, Dr. Horatio Nelson Jackson and Sewall Crocker, picked Bud up in Idaho. Jackson had been looking for a mascot to accompany them on their cross-country journey, and Bud was the perfect fit. They actually came across him by accident  Jackson forgot his coat at a hotel in Caldwell. It was one of those situations where you get in the car, drive for a bit, and then realize  crud, I forgot my wallet/jacket/bag/etc. Except this car was much slower than contemporary cars, so it took even longer to get back.

On their way back to the hotel, Jackson and Crocker were stopped by a man who actually offered them Bud as a mascot. He was a young bulldog at the time, and Jackson eagerly took the man up on his offer. Jackson claimed that Bud "soon became an enthusiast for motoring", and he was part of their crew from then on.

Jackson made sure that Bud had eye protection, because the first cars weren't exactly environmentally friendly, and they spurted smoke and toxic fumes. There was already a fair amount of media attention on the Vermont and its small crew, but with the addition of Bud and his stylish goggles, newspapers started flocking to their story even more. Rumors started to fly about how exactly it was that Bud became a part of the Vermont team. Some said that Jackson had rescued Bud from a dog fight, and others reported that Bud was a stray who chased the car for a couple miles before winning over Jackson and Crocker's hearts.

He completed the journey with them and enjoyed car rides ever-after, taking up residence in the Jackson home permanently after the trip.


The three dogs who survived the sinking of the Titanic

Photo credit: America Comes Alive

Most people know that there were lots of people onboard the Titanic, but did you know there were quite a few animals as well? There were approximately twelve dogs aboard the Titanic before it sank in 1912, as well as a rooster, 30 cockerels, and several hens. One man even intended to bring 100 English Foxhounds onboard, but they ended up traveling on a different ship.

Only three dogs managed to survive, all saved by their humans. They were all small dogs belonging to first class passengers staying in state rooms, as smaller dogs were permitted to stay with their caretakers in the cabins. Larger dogs were required to stay in the kennels, but they were regularly exercised by the crew of the Titanic. Unfortunately, none of the larger dogs survived. Those who perished included a King Charles Spaniel, two Airedales, a Chow, a Great Dane, a "toy dog", and a French Bulldog.

The three dogs who survived included two Pomeranians, names not disclosed, and one Pekingese named Sun Yat-Sen (after the Chinese statesman). The Pomeranians were owned by Margaret Hays and Elizabeth Rothschild, respectively. Hays allegedly had her dog wrapped in a blanket and was carrying the dog in her arms when she boarded a lifeboat. The Pekingese belonged to Henry and Myra Harper, and after the tragedy, Mr. Harper (of Harper & Row Publishers) was quoted saying that "there seemed to be lots of room, and nobody made any objection [to the dog]."


Bobbie the Wonder Dog

Image credit: Rick Obst, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

What's the longest distance you've ever walked? Do you think you could survive a 2,800 mile journey, some of it in the winter, on foot? What about when you were only two years old?

That's exactly what Bobbie the Wonder Dog did, though dogs mature faster than humans, so that comparison isn't fair for a number of reasons. Still, Bobbie's journey was mightily impressive.

His phenomenal return home to Silverton, Oregon from Indiana took place over the course of six months. He had gotten separated from his humans when they'd taken a car trip to Indiana, and they didn't expect to ever see him again. He showed up on the Braziers' doorstep in February of 1924, mangy, scrawny, and probably exhausted, but he was still Bobbie.

The Silverton Appeal, the local paper, first published the story, which spread to papers around the United States until the story became something of a national sensation. The Braziers received hundreds of letters for Bobbie, and some people claimed they had seen Bobbie on his trek.

Bobbie's journey was verified by the Oregon Humane Society, which conducted an investigation into the situation. Bobbie was gifted with medals, a jewel-studded harness and collar, and multiple keys to cities for his deed. He also received a dog-sized bungalow from the Portland Home Show, and remained popular throughout his life (though that was probably the longest walk he ever took).

Balto

Photo credit: photo by Uris (English Wikipedia), statue by Frederick Roth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Have you ever heard of the Iditarod, the famous dog-sled race in Alaska? Did you know it was based on an actual event?

In January of 1925 in Nome, Alaska, deadly diphtheria infections were spreading, and the nearest supply of the serum to cure it was over 500 miles away in Anchorage. It's no small feat to travel in an Alaskan winter, what with the torrents of snow and gales of icy, biting wind. The only viable path from Nome to Anchorage was a 650-mile freight route to Neana called the Iditarod Trail.

Now, normally a trip like this would take an entire month by dogsled. But people were desperate for a cure, and they got to thinking: what if we did a relay? What if we station dogs and mushers at checkpoints so the serum can have a one-way trip without stopping? A measure like this was necessary for heading off an epidemic that had frighteningly real potential to kill thousands of people.

So, twenty mushers (dog-sled drivers) volunteered to participate in the relay. With fresh, energized dogs at each stop, there wouldn't need to be breaks for sleep, rest, and recovery that would take up valuable time, and therefore lives, from the citizens of Nome. The trail was broken up into sections, which ranged from 24 to 52 miles. The most difficult and lengthy portion of the trip was made by Leonhard Seppala's team, led by Togo the 12-year-old husky. Balto was only three years old when his musher, Gunnar Kaasen, chose him to lead the pack for the final leg of the journey. 

These mushers and dogs were out to save lives, and they could afford little room for mistakes. They had to both go as fast as possible and also pace themselves so their dogs wouldn't get too tired before they reached the next checkpoint. It was a challenge that human and dog alike rose to magnificently.

The "Great Race of Mercy" began on January 27th when the serum arrived in Neana, where it was loaded onto the first sled and passed from sled to sled to sled for days until it reached Balto and Kaasen. The weather was so bad that Kaasen had to rely on the dogs' instinct for direction, and at times the wind was so strong, it lifted the sled and the dogs into the air as they sprinted toward Nome. Balto did an excellent job staying on the trail, and he led the team into Nome just before dawn on February second. It had taken just over five days to deliver the serum to Nome from Neana, which was unimaginably quick.

Balto, being the lead dog for the final stretch of the journey, became the symbol for all of the hard work and dedication that all of the humans and dogs put into this journey of tenacity, courage, teamwork, and hope. They saved countless lives with the delivery of this serum. Balto lived to be 14, passing away in 1933.

The story of the "Great Race of Mercy" lives on today. There's a statue of Balto in New York City's Central Park and a special exhibit about Balto's story in the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. And, of course, the Iditarod itself, which takes place annually, following the serum-run route. There is also an animated movie loosely based on Balto's story that was released in 1995, and it was popular enough to merit two sequels.


Buddy

Photo credit: TN State Library & Archives

Seeing-eye dogs provide those with blindness more freedom and autonomy than they might otherwise have. This is an incredibly valuable service. A young man in 1927 was frustrated with his own lack of autonomy when his father read him an article about a dog trainer in Switzerland who was training dogs to serve as guides for World War I veterans who had lost their sight.

This young man, Morris Frank, reached out to the author of the article, Dorothy Harrison Eustis, and asked for her help. She agreed to help him find a guide dog of his own, and so Frank set out to Switzerland, where together they trained a German Shepherd named Buddy as the first guide dog for a non-veteran citizen.

Frank promised to Eustis that he would share the wonders of seeing-eye dogs with the American public, which is exactly what he did when he returned home from training with Buddy abroad. He brought Buddy to New York City, and Buddy guided him across a busy, hazardous street in front of a slew of news reporters. Buddy became a national sensation and provided Frank with much more freedom and autonomy than he had had previously.

This success made Frank and Eustis realize that other people could probably use this service as well, and so they created the organization The Seeing Eye in 1929 for just that purpose. The organization's goal to this day is to make the world accessible to those with blindness. They train guide dogs and invest in research to further improve their training and the genetics of the seeing eye dogs. The Seeing Eye is one of the founding members of the Council of U.S. Guide Dog Schools, and also holds the position of being an accredited member of the International Guide Dog Federation. Buddy was an important part of making this all possible.

If you're interested in learning more about service animals, we have an article about them here


Unsinkable Sam

Photo credit: ZME Science CCO

Unsinkable Sam was a ship's cat who served during World War II, first with the Kriegsmarine and then with the Royal Navy. Unsinkable Sam got his name because he survived the sinking of three ships: Bismarck, the HMS Cossack, and the HMS Ark Royal.

When Unsinkable Sam was with the German Kriegsmarine fleet, he was brought aboard the Bismarck. The Bismarck did battle with allied forces and became so damaged that it sank, and Unsinkable Sam was picked up by the British forces aboard the HMS Cossack. He was found floating on a board when they rescued him from his perilous predicament. Unsinkable Sam officially switched sides, and the British soldiers named him Oscar.

Oscar served on the HMS Cossack for several months, but the ship got severely damaged by a torpedo and sank. Oscar was found clinging to a piece of plank and was brought ashore to Gibraltar, where British officers learned of his ordeal and renamed him Unsinkable Sam. He had managed to survive where thousands of humans hadn't--the sinking of two warships was no small thing to escape from, let alone escape from virtually unscathed.

The crew of the HMS Ark Royal, a ship that had been a large part of the sinking of the Bismarck, decided to adopt Unsinkable Sam. The warship survived many a close call and garnered a reputation for itself as a lucky ship, but this luck didn't hold forever. The HMS Ark Royal was torpedoed by a U-boat and sank in November of 1941. Sam was found once again on a floating plank, this time "angry but quite unharmed"  understandably so!

People figured Sam had had enough, and so he became a mouser in the building of the Governor General in Gibraltar for awhile, back on the land and away from warships. He was later returned to the United Kingdom where he lived at a 'Home for Sailors' in Belfast until 1955 when he passed away.

Room 8

Photo credit: Art Worden/Herald-Examiner Collection /LAPL Archive

In true feline fashion, a stray neighborhood cat wandered into a Californian elementary school in 1952 and sauntered about as if he belonged there. He was discovered in room 8, where he had taken a definite interest in the students' lunches, and thereafter he was known as Room 8 to the students of Elysian Heights Elementary School in Echo Park.

Room 8 lived in the school, wandering from classroom to classroom, during the entirety of the school session. He was much adored by the students, teachers, and local community alike. Room 8 disappeared every summer, only to stroll back in when the school session began as if he'd never been gone at all. He did this for 16 years, receiving over 10,000 pieces of fan mail from all over the United States. He was never reported to have taken a permanent residence, though many would have been glad to offer.

Room 8 passed away in 1968, always remaining a valued member of the Echo Park community. The students who loved him made sure he had a respectable resting place, somewhere to lay his head down for a final time. They raised enough money to secure him an impressive headstone at the Los Angeles pet cemetery in Calabasas, where a number of other famous animals were buried. His obituary in the L.A. Times was three columns long, and a Riverside cat shelter took on his name in 1972 to honor him.

Elysian Heights Elementary has murals and sidewalk engravings decorating the building and the area around it to this day, and plenty of portraits inside, celebrating the life and times of Room 8, the beloved stray cat who adopted a school.


Laika

Scanned by user Neozoon, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Humans have done a lot of ethically questionable things in the name of science, and Laika's story falls into that ambiguous/not-so-great category. Her story may not be a happy one, but it's an important one to tell.

In 1957, Laika became the first living creature in orbit of the planet earth. Other dogs had been in space before, but not in orbit. Laika was sent into space with one meal and a seven-day oxygen supply  she was unfortunately on a one-way trip in Sputnik 2.

The husky-spitz mix was a stray from the streets of Moscow, and she was picked up because the researchers were looking specifically for female strays. The females were smaller and allegedly more docile, two traits that were good for what the scientists wanted to do. The less space the dog physically took up in the capsule, the better, as the bigger and the heavier the capsule is, the more expensive it is to fuel it, for one thing.

The dogs were then tested for obedience and passivity, to make sure they would put up with wearing a space suit and listen to commands and not chew on important equipment. The dogs who made the cut were then put in tiny pressurized capsules, first for days, then for weeks. Their reactions to loud noises and air pressure changes were recorded, because both of those things were going to happen during the launch and orbit 2,000 miles up in space. The problem of bodily waste was solved by the devising of a sanitation device that would be fitted to each dog's pelvis. Some dogs couldn't adapt to it, but those that could became finalists.

Eventually, after all that testing, two top contenders were chosen: Kudryavka (Little Curly) and Albina (White). Albina was the back-up in case something happen to Kudryavka, possibly because Albina had recently had a litter of puppies. Though, it was also rumored that Albina had won her keepers over. When Kudryavka was introduced to the public for the first time, it was over the radio. She barked, not having much else to say, and became known as Laika, literally translating to "Barker" in Russian.

Laika and Albina had medical devices implanted in them for measuring various bodily functions so the scientists could keep track of their health during the launch and orbit. The physicians sentenced her to a suicide mission, yet her keepers did still care for her. One keeper took her home before the flight because he wanted to do something nice for her, and another physician broke protocol and fed Laika before liftoff.

Laika entered her cramped travel space three days before liftoff, with barely any room to move. She was cleaned, fitted with sensors and the sanitation device, loaded into the spacesuit, and subjected to G forces that were five times the normal gravity levels.

The liftoff terrified Laika. Her heartbeat tripled and her breathing rate quadrupled, but she made it into orbit alive. It took about 103 minutes for the first orbit to be completed. She was reported to have died soon after launch, as the loss of the heat shield made the temperature rise until it was over 90 degrees by the fourth orbit. She may have survived for an orbit or two after that. Sputnik 2 continued to orbit for 5 months.

The Soviet Union falsified official documents and claimed that Laika survived for several days, but after nine days they finally admitted her death. There were multiple protests around the world by animal rights groups and individual citizens, protesting the decision to let Laika die. There was a lot of media coverage of the event, and many people were not happy. Some individuals involved did reportedly regret the decision.

Laika's sacrifice was not for nothing. She helped scientists prove that it was possible for living creatures to survive in space. She was not the last dog launched into space, and ever-after there was allegedly at least some hope for the animals' survival. The Soviet Union launched dogs into flight 71 times between 1951 and 1966. 17 died. Laika spurred many important conversations about animal rights and continues to do so today. There are a couple of memorials honoring her life and journey into space.


Felicette

Public domain

Cats often like to go up to high places  on top of the fridge, the top shelf of your closet, or perhaps up the neighbor's tree. Félicette, a stray tuxedo cat from France, went above and beyond and went 100 miles into the sky on a suborbital mission, becoming the first cat in space.

In 1963, Félicette was launched into space for 15 minutes as a sort of trail run for humans, so the French scientists could study the effects of microgravity on the bodies of mammals. They had sent rats into space before, but nothing so large as a cat before Félicette. She was chosen out of a group of 14 cats, and it was her sweet temperament that made her stand out during the arduous training to be chosen as the first Astrocat.

In October of 1963, C341 (Félicette's less exciting designated name) was launched from the Sahara Desert. Implanted electrodes allowed scientists 100 miles below her to monitor her breathing and heart rate. When the 15 minutes was up, Félicette was safely parachuted back down to the ground. She lived for a couple of months before she was euthanized so the scientific team could examine her brain for effects of microgravity.

A person named Matthew Serge Guy launched a Kickstarter campaign in October of 2017 to commission a bronze statue of Félicette, because she is rarely recognized for her contributions to cosmic science, and he wanted more people to remember her sacrifice. The Kickstarter campaign took off, and a bronze statue designed by sculptor Gill Parker was unveiled at the 25th anniversary celebration of the International Space University’s Master of Space Studies program in December of 2019. The sculpture shows Felicette sitting atop a replica of earth, her head pointed to the cosmos above. The sculpture remains today at the International Space University in Strasbourg, France.

One hypothesis as to why fewer people recognize the name Felicette as compared to more well-known animals in space, like Laika or Ham the Astrochimp, is because many people view space exploration as a race that occurred solely between the USSR and the USA, so France and others are often ignored or downplayed in the larger narrative.


Wilberforce

Photo credit: Malcolm Clarke/ANL/REX/Shutterstock

Perhaps one of the most interesting positions in British government always goes to a feline: Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office. Britain has a long tradition of having a Chief Mouser, always having a least one cat employed in this position.

Wilberforce was one such feline, and he was a black and white tomcat who could frequently be found lounging on the front doorstep to the prime minister's official residence. The police person assigned security duty for the front door of Number 10 was instructed to ring the doorbell for Wilberforce whenever he wanted to come inside.

Wilberforce served under four Prime Ministers: Heath, Wilson, Callaghan, and Thatcher. He worked at 10 Downing Street from 1973-1986, garnering himself the reputation as "the best mouser in Britain" over the course of his employment. He got lots of fan mail over the course of his career.

Prime Minister Thatcher was fond of Wilberforce, and when she was on a tour of the Soviet Union, she picked up a special kind of herring to bring back as a gift for him, and it ended up being one of his last meals at Number 10 before he retired.

After 13 years of service, Wilberforce moved to an undisclosed location in Essex so he could live out the remainder of his days in peace. He died when he was a ripe 15 years old. He was succeeded as Chief Mouser by Humphrey and preceded by Peta.


Apollo

Photo credit: AKC Pet Insurance

Search and rescue dogs are rightly often called heroes. They brave dangerous situations to locate and save human beings, sometimes at risk to their own wellbeing. They are trained to do this, however, so the risk can hopefully be minimized. One such heroic canine was Apollo, a German Shepherd.

Apollo graduated from the NYPD Canine Special Operations Division when he was two years old, and was one of their top dogs in the '90s. Apollo worked with the first NYPD K-9 Urban Search and Rescue team, and he was good at his job. 

Apollo and his handler, Peter Davis, were the first search and rescue team that answered the call when the tragedy of 9/11 struck. They arrived on the scene 15 minutes after the South Tower of the World Trade Center collapsed.

Risking his life to save the wounded, Apollo dodged debris and flew over fire to drag humans to safety. He worked 18-hour days for weeks on end. Apollo nearly died, but survived and kept right on searching, ever-determined to find people.

He earned the AKC Humane Fund Award for Canine Excellence and the Dickin Medal, the latter on behalf of all the SAR dogs who participated in rescue operations at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Apollo was one of many important canines on the scene during those weeks after the tragedy.

If you're interested in learning more about search and rescue dogs, you can read our article about them here.


Tama

Photo credit: Takobou, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Tama didn't know that she would grow up to wear a fancy hat and collar and be fawned on by thousands of tourists. She just knew her regular cat life in Japan.

That all changed in 2007, when the railway operator of the Kishi Station on the Kishigawa line knew that something desperately needed to change. Their local station was crumbling into financial ruin, and in an attempt to save the station, they chose Tama to be the station mascot, hoping to bring more people to the station by virtue of Tama's adorableness and the oddity of a feline stationmaster.

The calico cat took well to her new position, and tourists were indeed fascinated by the idea of a cat who was a stationmaster. They came in droves to visit her, and the train station was saved. A cat-themed cafe was built, and merchandise made based on Tama sold quite well, supporting the station even further. 

They made enough money to remodel the building to look like a cat, with slanted windows for eyes and tasteful decorative ears on the roof. The roof over the doorway to the station curves up like a cat's face, completing the illusion.

Tama wore her railway hat proudly, and was also appointed as the acting president of Wakayama Electric Railway in 2013. She was even called "Super Station Master Tama". Her station was a success, after all! Of course, the success couldn't have happened without her assistant, who did things she didn't have time for. Napping and meeting with adoring fans takes up a lot of time, of course.

Tama served through 2015, when she passed away at 16 years old.

Conclusion

These animals are of course just a handful of exemplary animals who populate our planet's history.

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