Dog Day

One day last week British Broadcasting Corp. staged a unique and peculiarly British program, a broadcast strictly for dogs. This was the sort of thing decorous Director-General Sir John Reith might have forbidden in his time, but strait-laced Sir John was replaced last October by heartier Frederick Wolff Ogilvie. "Calling All Dogs" was announced as an experiment to find out just what broadcasting means to dogs. So British radio owners were asked to have their dogs listen in, and to report their dogs' reactions to the broadcast.

What came over was a broadcast by trained dogs from a kennel at Worplesdon, run by a Mr. and Mrs. Robert Montgomery. The program called for the Montgomerys to put their dogs through a set of paces and commands considered generally familiar to most well-behaved British dogs. As an audience participating stunt, "Calling All Dogs" proved a yelping success.

"Rats!" snapped Mr. Montgomery to his studio ratters, and ear-cocked terriers dashed excitedly to the chase in countless homes of England. "Lie down," "Find it," "Jump over the poker," went more commands. Rattling food pans and garbage cans, the Montgomerys for a memorable 15 minutes had every listening dog in England in a dither. When a Montgomery Dalmatian greedily chewed up a dog biscuit before the microphone, dog-owners reported widespread mouth watering. When Montgomery fox terriers, Peter and Jock, got to growling, hackles rose the length and breadth of Britain. When Tippler, a tough Corgi, refused to "speak," every obedient canine listener in Albion spoke up for him.

Britons who stayed tuned in after "Calling All Dogs" heard the Archbishop of Canterbury deliver a gloomy sermon, saying: "In the present condition of the disordered world, we are beholding judgment day. . . . In spite of all the hopes of progress, are these not signs of a return to the dark ages?"

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.