Animal Attraction
Unlikely pals Laura Bush and Kinky
Friedman have teamed to fight the death penalty -- for dogs
by William Hageman
Tribune staff reporter
(Austin,
Texas)-- Laura Bush, fresh from a two-week trip to Europe, looked
spiffy in a two-piece, lime green business suit.
Kinky Friedman, just in
from his ranch, was resplendent in a long black suit coat, black hat
and western tie, a little reminiscent of Robert Mitchum in "The Night
of the Hunter", only shorter and much less sinister.
And Hank the dog, clutched
in Friedman's arms, was dapper in his red bow tie.
"Some people have said
we're an odd couple," said singer-turned-mystery writer Friedman,
referring to himself and Mrs. Bush, not himself and Hank. "But we have
things in common -- a love of animals and a love of books. She also
came to a couple of my concerts. And stayed."
The two were talking to a
small group of media representatives last week at the Austin Four
Seasons Hotel, where the first lady had come to attend a luncheon
benefiting the Utopia Animal Rescue Ranch, the no-kill shelter that
Friedman has championed for several years.
He and Mrs. Bush have been
friends since the mid-'90's, when the then-first lady of Texas began
the Texas Book Festival as a way of celebrating that state's authors.
Last Christmas she and the president invited Friedman to a White House
Christmas party, where he sat next to her at dinner and did a reading
as part of the evening's entertainment.
"He behaved very
appropriately," Mrs. Bush reported.
Over dinner, Friedman
mentioned to Mrs. Bush his efforts to hold a benefit for the ranch.
"I told her I'd asked
Willie [Nelson] if he'd do it, and he said yes. But Willie will say
yes to anything that's more than two weeks away. Of course, he called
and said he was double-booked. Then we tried to get Lyle Lovett but we
couldn't pin him down. So I asked her if she could do this
luncheon."
"So I was actually the
third choice," the first lady pointed out.
The event was billed as
"Lunch with Laura and Barney, but Barney, the Bushes' year-old
Scottish terrier, was a late scratch.
"The president almost
wrote an executive order," Mrs. Bush said. "He wanted Barney to be
there [at the White House] when he got home from Europe."
The first lady could have
been excused if she pulled a Willie Nelson herself. After all, she'd
just returned from her 15-day trip the day before, but followed
through on her promise to Kinky. Instead of returning to Washington,
she came to Austin, where she stayed for a day before flying to the
White House. "She really wanted to do this," said a member of her
party.
Barney was another story,
however. With him unavailable, into the breach hopped Hank, the
ranch's mascot, a sweet creature of uncertain ancestry.
"I'd say he's a Norwich
terrier mix," Mrs. Bush guessed. Kinky was less charitable, comparing
Hank's looks to one of the flying monkeys in the "Wizard of Oz".
Barney wasn't missed by
the 400 guests who paid $125 a plate-- and up to $10, 000 for a choice
table-- to attend the vegetarian luncheon, which raised the not
inconsiderable sum of $125, 000 for the ranch. Entertainment ranged
from the touching (a solo by violinist Mary Hattersley) to the bizarre
(actor-writer Turk Pipkin escaped from a strait-jacket while reading
from "Old Yeller", the key being to finish the trick before reaching
the passage where Old Yeller meets his end). In between there were
songs by Delbert McClinton (a favorite of Mrs. Bush) and Tish
Hinojosa, among others; readings by authors Sandra Brown and Steve
Harrigan; and stories from Liz Carpenter, former press secretary to
Lady Bird Johnson. The program was capped by a slide show from the
first lady, a look into the lives of White House dogs Barney and Spot,
whether frolicking on the lawn with the president, sniffing around
dignitaries in the Oval Office or just chilling at the executive
mansion.
The slide show as a big
hit with a crowd that included U.S. Rep. Lamar Smith (R-Texas), Texas
Supreme Court Chief Justice Tom Phillips and a delegation from the
Vietnamese Red Cross -- an interesting mix of people to assist Kinky,
a guy whose band, the Texas Jewboys, managed to offend just about
everyone at some time or another during its existence.
"We like Kinky," Mrs. Bush
said when asked why she was there. "And we love animals."
The bottom line, though,
was the bottom line, as Friedman pointed out in his remarks.
"Folks, it's been a
financial pleasure," he said, "but like we say at the ranch, money
will buy you a fine dog, but only love will make him wag his tail."
And the dogs at the ranch
are nothing if not loved.
Its mission is to rescue
animals that are on death row at area pounds. The idea had been in the
back of Friedman's mind for years, and then in 1998 he persuaded
friends Tony Simons and his wife, Nancy Parker Simons, to convert
their five-acre property in Utopia, Texas into the shelter. Friedman
put the arm on other friends, such as Willie Nelson and former Texas
Gov. Ann Richards, to raise funds for pens and necessities. Then came
the residents.
"When we started this, we
didn't know if we'd rescue eight dogs, then be able to adopt them out,
or if we'd have to keep them ourselves," said Friedman's sister,
Marcie.
On that first day, she and
Nancy Simons swooped down on area shelters -- "kind of like Robin
Hood," Friedman says -- and took home 41 dogs, most just hours away
from meeting the same fate as Old Yeller.
"We went to the pounds for
dogs that were going to be executed," Marcie said. "But we couldn't
leave anyone behind."
They loaded and reloaded
their trucks, taking the dogs to a local vet who volunteered his
services (lawyers, accountants and sundry ranch hands also volunteer
their time to keep the place running). All dogs got checkups, shots,
and were spayed or neutered, a practice that continues.
Pigs, donkeys and more
Then last March, the ranch
(www.utopiarescue.com) relocated to a 50-acre site in a scenic canyon
near Medina, Texas on land leased from the Friedman family. It has
added pot-bellied pigs (sweet and cute when they are piglets, sweet
but beastly and totally unadoptable as 200-pound adults), a couple of
donkeys (brothers Roy and Gabby, named, of course, for Rogers and
Hayes respectively), the occasional cat and a rooster. And, naturally,
more dogs.
So far they have rescued
about 500 dogs and found homes for more than 400. A population of
about 50 are currently at the ranch, and that's not including a small
pack that the Simons have adopted themselves and who have the run of
their house trailer. Each dog gets a name, and lives in a large,
shaded pen, and gets health care -- and training, if needed.
Friedman is not involved
in the daily operation, which are the province of the Simons.
But Friedman has a big
role. His thing is applying what is known in the sales trade as "the
convincer."
Putting on the pressure
"Kinky has done something
like 14 adoptions himself since [March]," Parker Simons says. "He
calls people -- 'Get up there and get a dog' -- and he really backs
them into a corner. Then after the dogs are adopted, I think we should
let the new owners be alone at first, let them get settled. But
Friedman's belief is that we should call them every day -- 'Have you
walked them yet? Have you fed 'em?' "
(Friedman is also setting
his next mystery, his 15th, at the rescue ranch. Due out this fall,
it's called, not surprisingly, "Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch.")
The dogs are free to good
homes --the Simons are really picky about where they place animals --
and they'll even fly the dog out to its new owners.
"This is a place where
animals that are discarded or are going to be euthanized get a second
chance," Mrs. Bush said. "It's a very humane way to treat animals."
And she said that without
even knowing about the music.
The Simons are setting up
a sound system that will pipe music in to the dogs all day.
"Honest to God, they'll be
listening to classical music," Nancy Simons says. "We're not going to
play country music; we don't need any redneck dogs."
The luncheon was a success
by any standard.
On a practical level, it
raised a lot of money for the ranch. How to spend it is still under
discussion -- there's a plan to construct a building for cats, and
Simons would like to start a countywide neutering program.
But Friedman had his own
gauge.
"My father always said
that any event is a success if you see someone there who's more
important than you are."
