He was a war orphan born in a ruined kennel at Verdun, one of the bloodiest, deadliest battlefields of World War I.
Brought home by the American serviceman who found him, he became the most popular actor in the country. That human, Lee Duncan, taught him to perform amazing feats, matched by the dog’s innate ability to show human emotions — joy, sorrow, and many others.
His films, made in the “Silent” era, were so popular that their profits repeatedly saved his struggling studio, Warner Bros., from bankruptcy.
He was a German shepherd named for a French doll: Rin Tin Tin. A relatively new breed, German shepherds became enormously popular because of him.
Wherever he traveled on a publicity tour, he drew an overflow crowd of fans. They called him “Rinty.”
In 1927, the newly organized Academy Awards board voted for its “Best Actor” award. They chose Rinty. But after having second thoughts, they decided to give the award to a human because they wanted their organization to be taken seriously, and giving the (hopefully) prestigious award to a dog, no matter how popular he was, didn’t quite fit.
When he died, in 1932, radio stations nationwide interrupted their programming to make the announcement. Every newspaper carried his obituary, often on the front page.
But Rin Tin Tin didn’t die, because by that time he was more legend than an actual dog, and legends live on. After World War II, when television was introduced, one of his descendants starred in “The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin” — a weekly program about a boy and his dog on the frontier. It was popular, and even more popular when it went into re-runs. Nearly every child in America (and probably many adults) watched it. They bought tons of merchandise, too — hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth. A “K-9” police drama starring another Rin Tin Tin descendant aired from 1988 to 1993. Even today, the mention of “Rin Tin Tin” often gets a nod of recognition and delight.
Somewhere, in Dog Heaven, Rinty is barking his approval.