The Escape Artist – Buggs Breese
By Amy Fernandez
Campaigning specials has never been a carefree venture, but a glance at the past confirms that we have it pretty easy today. Specials certainly carved out remarkable careers in past eras but it involved challenges we don’t even consider today. If you’re skeptical, this story might bring that into focus.
In 1929, a black Smooth Coat Chihuahua by the snappy name of Buggs Breese was off to a promising show career. His owner, Mrs. Robert Potter Breese, heralded from one the most socially prominent families in New York’s dog world. In other words, Buggs had the quality, financial backing, and political connections to go for the gold.
Although Buggs never made Chihuahua history, his career definitely highlighted the hazards of makeshift crates and shipping methods back then. Thanks to fate or bad luck, Henrietta Donnell Proctor Reilly played a starring role in his reign of terror that summer.
Then president of the Chihuahua Club of America, her Etty Haven kennel campaigned numerous breeds from coast to coast. She specialized in Chihuahuas and typically owned 20 or more. However, she met her match in Buggs. As she later recounted in the December 1930 AKC Gazette, “His conduct plainly refutes the idea that Chihuahuas are only delicate, dainty, pillow dogs.”
Buggs first tested his mettle mid-summer when his owners took the daring step of shipping him by air via Western Union’s newly launched messenger service. Cargo holds wouldn’t be temperature-controlled or pressurized for decades, but Buggs survived the two-hour flight from New York to Boston. From there, he traveled by hired car to Rhode Island for the Newport show and promptly confirmed his potential by taking Breed from the classes.
Fellow exhibitor Henrietta was delighted. And that’s when she sealed her fate. Like many of New York’s wealthy elite, she was vacationing in Newport. She planned to drive her show string back to her Larchmont estate the following day, and naturally offered to take Buggs along rather than subjecting him to more shipping.
After several hours of telegram correspondence, that impromptu arrangement was a done deal. The Etty Haven clan (including Buggs) hit the road the following day with Henrietta’s driver at the helm of their big Curtis Palace trailer. She had this down to a science. She routinely exhibited 20-30 dogs at major shows throughout the country and had been among the first kennels to invest in deluxe dog show transportation.
Later, she called the trip unforgettable. “Somewhere on the road, while the driver had occasion to open the door, Buggs decided that here was an opportunity not to be overlooked.” They watched in disbelief as Buggs took off across the highway. They tailed him, but Buggs had far more off-road maneuverability than a Curtis Palace. He reportedly enjoyed the hot August afternoon sprinting and dodging his pursuers. Around dusk they finally spotted him slipping under a barn and matronly Henrietta, dressed for Newport high society, found herself, “sprinting ,crawling, and twisting like a worm under a barn until Buggs was dragged out.” The rest of the trip back to Larchmont was uneventful.
Buggs was resting.
Henrietta ranked among the country’s wealthiest women and her Etty Haven kennel set the standard for comfort, safety, and aesthetic appeal. For decades, it had successfully housed breeds ranging from Greyhounds and Mastiffs to hell-bent Terriers and delicate Toys. There was no reason to suspect that Buggs wouldn’t settle down until Henrietta chaperoned him on the final leg of his journey the following day.
It was postponed. Buggs was gone the next morning. Evidence later revealed that he managed to escape, taking a large, hefty bitch with him. They were found late that night in a shed on the property. The final chapter of that escapade produced three pups.
Not a moment too soon, Buggs was delivered to his owner. “No more Buggs for me. I was never so happy as when I saw him back with his owner for he was up to mischief all the time.” Henrietta spoke prematurely.
A month later, Buggs was a distant memory as she enjoyed a pleasant drive to her family’s Central Valley estate. She was about 60 miles away when she glanced down while crossing a bridge and spotted some dogs swimming in the brook below. This was nothing unusual on a hot day, but something was wrong with this picture. She slammed on the brakes for a closer look, which confirmed her initial impression. “The very small black dog paddling along with two large Foxhounds was indeed a Chihuahua.” Once again, Henrietta ruined her couture clothes and defied every social convention by wading in to fish him out.
She was in for a bigger shock. It was Buggs.
Back then, Chihuahuas weren’t common. She couldn’t imagine how he got there, but she knew a Chihuahua handler’s kennel was nearby in Dover Plains. Confused, muddy, and unpresentable, Henrietta and Buggs took a detour over there to find an army of searchers scouring the countryside for the renegade. He had arrived via railway express from New York three days earlier for some upcoming shows with this handler. Aware of his reputation, the kennel manager took him directly to a second floor dog room, secured him in a four-foot wire pen, but he underestimated Buggs.
“After partaking of a hearty supper of mutton,” Buggs decided to check out the hood. He scaled the pen, blasted through a window screen, and landed on the porch roof. From there, he made a suicidal 16-foot leap. It seems unbelievable, except for the witnesses, “He landed near three men who were so astonished they were a bit slow to act.” Regardless of what you’re smoking, flying Chihuahuas are not a frequent sight. By then, everyone knew the drill. As Buggs disappeared down the road like a black streak, his pursuers followed by car, bicycle, horseback, and on foot. They had been at it for three days and nights when Henrietta and Buggs drove up that Sunday afternoon.
Against all odds, Buggs completed his championship and earned a credible record as a special. More amazingly, Henrietta carried him onboard to shows as far away as Florida and Texas to capture some of his biggest wins.
Perhaps there is some truth to the contention that dog people are crazy.
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