"Jim the Wonder Dog"

My college town was better than your college town.  Why?  Because it had something yours definitely did not.  Definitely.

And I don't care where you went to school!  Be it Haaavid, or USC, or MIT, it cannot compare with Marshall, Missouri.  No way, no how...

Marshall is the home of Missouri Valley College, my alma mater.  A great little college in a great little town.  And one that sports an attraction unlike anything anywhere else.  Ever.

Let me 'splain, a bit.  When I first arrived in Marshall back in the early 60's, the first thing I saw upon entering town was a huge billboard proudly proclaiming, "Home of Jim, the Wonder Dog!"  There was a picture of a Llewellyn Setter underneath, nose to tail locked in a perfect point, looking all proud and happy.  Hmmm, worthy of further investigation, I thought.

And I got that chance upon one of the first times I had a chance to pack away a few Buds with the buds.  Deep into the effort the subject of "Jim" came up.  My very good friend by then, Jim Igo, a native of Marshall and steeped in local lore, took it upon himself to school me on this rather fabulous animal.

It seems that way back in 1925 there was a local businessman named Sam VanArsdale.  He managed  the Ruff Hotel.  He was also a dedicated bird hunter and needed a good hunting dog to add to his pack.  A breeder in Louisiana offered him a purebred pup, the runt of the litter, the only one left, for half its usual $25 price (a fortune back then!).  VanArsdale took a chance and brought Jim back home.

Try as he might, VanArsdale couldn't make Jim hunt; he'd simply lay down in the shade while the other bird dogs were undergoing training.  Yet, upon being brought to the hunt for the very first time, Jim immediately made a beeline straight for the nearest covey of quail, went into the perfect point, and then retrieved the bird VanArsdale shot.  And then on to the next covey.  And the next.  The same result.  No zigging and zagging for Jim; he appeared to know exactly where the birds were, and simply refused to hunt them where they weren't.  

VanArsdale was amazed.  He was amazed even more when he told Jim that they should go over by an old oak tree for a rest.  Jim immediately went to and placed his paw on the only oak tree within sight.  VanArsdale then directed Jim to a maple tree. And then an ash, and an alder, and a tree stump, and then a tin can.  The same result.  Jim seemed to understand what VanArsdale was telling him, as he was perfectly obeying his spoken orders.

(Jim's powers at hunting became legendary.  VanArsdale kept track of all the birds taken during Jim's life.  He stopped counting at 5,000, a total no other dog ever reached.  Outdoor Life Magazine later  proclaimed Jim "The Hunting Dog of the Century.") 

Word of Jim's special powers spread rapidly.  VanArsdale was fond of displaying Jim's talents for the locals in many unique and remarkable ways.  He would assemble a crowd at the Ruff Hotel and have the locals ask Jim questions.  And boy, did they!  Jim could find a Chevrolet upon request.  Or a particular license number.  Or go to the woman in the blue dress (dogs are color blind!).  Or find the car driven by the man from out of town.  Or the "woman who takes care of sick people."    

He went on to predict the winner of seven consecutive Kentucky Derbies, the sex of unborn babies and the winner of the 1936 World Series.  VanArsdale would ask Jim for the winners beforehand, Jim would place his paw beside a name, and then his master would place the paper in the safe.  He would open the safe in front of the townspeople following the event to prove the accuracy of Jim's prescient answers. 

Upon invitation VanArsdale took Jim to the University of Missouri at Columbia.  There he was put through numerous tests by MU students on the Quadrangle, including executing orders given him in any foreign language, spoken or written.  And, he carried out orders in both flashed and sounded Morse Code!

While there Professor Durant of the MU Veterinary Department examined Jim.  He proclaimed him "normal," with exception of his eyes; they were, according to Durant, "human-like," without further comment.  

Jim appeared at command performances before the Missouri State Legislature in Columbia and the State Fair in Sedalia.  Reporters who witnessed his amazing feats wrote of the incredible things they had witnessed.  His fame spread across the U.S. and elsewhere.  He was even featured in "Ripley's Believe it or Not."  

In 1935 Jim performed at the Kemmerer Hotel in Kemmerer, Wyoming.  After his astounding performance there, the local paper, the "Gazette of Kemmerer," proclaimed him "Jim the Wonder Dog."

It was reported that VanArsdale turned down an astounding $350,000 (about $10 Million today!) from Paramount to bring Jim to Hollywood so they could make a movie of his life.  He was so paranoid that Jim might be dog napped that he preferred to stay home and retain what remained of his and Jim's privacy. 

Jim caught distemper and died in 1937.  He is buried under a huge gravestone in the shape of a Llewellyn Setter in Marshall's Ridge Park Cemetery and is probably the only animal in a people cemetery anywhere.  Caretakers there tell us it's the most visited grave site there, and is always covered with flowers and coins left by admirers.  

I can attest to this, having visited this site many times.  Most usually accompanied by several raucous school chums and a washtub full of brewskies.    

It should be stated that I believed none of this until I began to do my own investigation.  And then I came to believe it all.  Since I matriculated there less than 30 years after the dog's death, and having chosen this subject for a speech I was to give, I tracked down and interviewed more than 20 people who had known and interacted with Jim while he was still alive.  To a person they swore that it was all true; and more.  Much more.  

One local gent recalled an incident at the Ruff Hotel.  Jim was asleep on the carpet in the middle of the lobby, he told me.  A delivery man carrying an armload of boxes entered the front door and proceeded to walk directly toward Jim, unaware that Jim lay directly in his path.  Jim awakened, the old man said, and without looking at the delivery man, walked two steps forward, lay back down and went to sleep...as the delivery guy walked directly over where Jim had been laying.  Hmmm.

Most of the old codgers wouldn't even discuss Jim when I asked, presumably having been laughed at and mocked by those who hadn't experienced this dog's special talents and abilities.  In fact, one old boy chased me down the street, waving his cane at me and calling me "young whippersnapper" for having the temerity to even question this local icon.

Long after I left Marshall, the town chose to honor Jim's memory in 1999 by establishing the "Jim The Wonder Dog Garden" off the northwest corner of the Town Square on the footprint of the space once occupied by the Ruff Hotel.  "Wonder Dog Day" is held each May and there's a local "Wonder Dog Museum" as well.

And by official proclamation the State of Missouri recently proclaimed Jim "Missouri's Official Wonder Dog."

Clearly, the good people of Marshall believed in Jim, and apparently still do.  And so do I.  If you'd care to investigate Jim further, write "Friends of Jim the Wonder Dog" at 101 North Lafayette Box 101, Marshall, Mo 65340.  The book, "Jim the Wonder Dog," 1942, by Clarence Deroy Mitchell, is available at the Museum.

(BTW, the speech was a huge success, garnering me one of the very few "A's" I chalked up while pretending to attend college...)

NOTE:  I also proudly count Chillicothe, just down the road a piece from Marshall, as my Home Town.  And it's also the "Home of Sliced Bread," being the very place this all-important staple was invented!  Really!  Am I a lucky guy, or what?

Take that, Haaaaavid!