“Gus the Wonder Dog,” courtesy of Raymond Kirkpatrick
Long before Hank T. Dog was bagging awards and generating the kind of internet death rumors reserved only for the truly famous, the Milwaukee Brewers played host to another canine that gained a significant – if brief – following.
It was June 11, 1993. After emerging as surprise contenders the season before, the Brewers were struggling – 10 games out of the first place with an ugly 26-31 record. It was the kind of season where anything that could go wrong did and that evening’s game against the Yankees proved it. As the game drew near, hundreds of seagulls invaded the playing surface, drawn to the thousands of moth eggs which had recently been laid in the County Stadium outfield grass. An amusing sight at first, the birds became something of a nuisance when the players and stadium staff realized that game-night action was not going to scare them away. About 200 birds were sifting through the grass in the first inning when Brewers slugger Greg Vaughn mashed a 3-run homer. The enormous cheer of the 20,000 fans on hand chased the birds away. But when things died down, the birds returned.
A Milwaukee Sentinel headline from the first game during the seagull invasion.
From that point, it turned into a near-farce. Vaughn and Yankees outfielder Dion James tried to shoo them away with no luck. Stadium PA announcer Bob Betts led the crowd in sudden cheers and rock music blasted through the sound system, but the birds – by now used to the noise – refused to budge. “I’ve never seen anything remotely like this,” Brewers president Bud Selig said after the game. “It’s bizarre.”
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Faced with the possibility of baseball’s first bird-induced forfeit, the team got proactive. Through a mutual friend, a grounds crew member got in touch with Raymond Kirkpatrick, who had a trained Labrador Retriever named Alexander Augustus III – “Gus” for short – who had once helped the Cedarburg Police Department to chase troublesome geese from a city park. After a tryout at the stadium that afternoon, during which Gus successfully flushed a flock of birds from the field and returned to Kirkpatrick on command, Gus was asked to assist with that evening’s game. In exchange for his services, the Brewers agreed to donate some memorabilia to the Wisconsin Waterfowl Association’s annual fundraiser (both Kirkpatrick and Gus were members).
Before the game, the Brewers had teased the press, telling them they had a “secret weapon” to help with the bird troubles. Like any performer about to enter the big stage, Gus was kept calm and loose during the pregame warm-up, getting to know his new teammates. Kirkpatrick recalled Robin Yount asking him if Gus was trained. “Is he trained?” Kirkpatrick replied. “He just walked through a three story building, down the halls and out in front of 30,000 people, and here he sits by my side. This dog is an athlete just like you guys.” Impressed, Yount tossed a few baseballs for Gus, which he eagerly retrieved.
Gus made his debut during the game’s first commercial break, just after the Yankee half of the first inning. With the quickness of Sixto Lezcano and the determination of Gorman Thomas, Gus made a sweep of the outfield and returned to Kirkpartick’s side. The birds, who had come to regard the grass as their own, fled briefly before returning. By the third inning, however, Gus’s persistence was paying off and the bulk of the flock was cautiously hovering over the playing surface. Although he had been getting huge ovations all night, the biggest cheer came in the sixth inning when Gus, as all dogs must, squatted in left field and did what came naturally. “I thought at first, when everybody started screaming, he caught a bird,” said Brewers outfielder Darryl Hamilton, who was warming up nearby. “Then I saw they brought the shovel out and I thought, ‘Oh well, it was only a matter of time.’”
The Brewers pounded the Yankees that night, 9-1 and a new local star was born. Radio announcer Bob Uecker proclaimed him “Gus the Wonder Dog.”
Gus was a hit outside of the Milwaukee area, too. USA Today ran a photo of him in action. He was mentioned in Playboy Magazine. Kirkpatrick even recalled family members in New Mexico and Virginia calling to say they had seen Gus on television. Over the rest of the homestand, Gus was joined on bird patrol by a Golden Retriever named Bam Bam, who was trained by a friend of Kirkpatrick’s, and a Springer Spaniel named Sarge. But Gus remained the ace of the staff. Players and staff grew so fond of the dog that they began requesting autographs. Kirkpatrick had a rubber stamp of a dog’s paw print made and began stamping baseballs, which he would inscribe “Gus the Wonder Dog.” Even Bud Selig requested a Gus “signed” ball, to add to his personal memento collection.
By late June, however, the moth eggs were all either hatched or eaten, and the seagulls lost interest in the County Stadium turf. Gus faded from the public eye, but not from the memories of many Brewers fans. In 2000, when the team was playing its final homestand at County Stadium, Kirkpatrick and Gus were brought back to old ballpark and invited out onto the field for one last ovation from the Milwaukee faithful. “It was a hoot,” Kirkpatrick said. “We were honored to participate.”
