Hello, I'm Mr. Red.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course, and no one can talk to a horse, of course,
that is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Red.
Go right to the source and ask the horse, he'll give you the answer that you endorse.
He's always on a steady course, talk to Mr. Red.
How are the carrots, Ed?
Delicious.
Want some more?
No, thanks, I've had it.
Wilbur?
Yeah?
I'm lucky.
Nice table, all the food I can eat, and a wonderful owner.
You deserve it, Ed.
Why don't you adopt me and make it legal?
You're already one of the family.
Minus you, Carol, and me.
Just the three of us.
That's my boy.
Wilbur, how would you like to join me for lunch?
You know, a nice meat sandwich, some french fried potatoes, pickles?
Sounds good.
Would you mind preparing it?
Why don't we wait until the girls get back, huh?
Oh, you know where my wife is?
She's with Carol.
Today they're working for the Humane Society.
There they go again.
Once again, our dear wives are off on another one of their civic projects.
In the meantime, we join the Legion of the Hungry.
Yep, stomach's synonymous.
There should be a Humane Society for husbands.
Oh, do you mind if I browse through your refrigerator?
I looked in mine and even the light was out.
Help yourself.
Thank you.
In the meantime, in case the cupboard is bare, throw me a carrot.
What's that?
You can bet it ain't a horse.
I wish Addison would let me buy a poodle.
Doesn't he like dogs?
He barely tolerates me.
Oh, come on, Pierre.
Come to your Aunt Kay.
Oh, girls.
Oh, hi, honey.
Cute little dog.
Whose is it?
Ours.
Oh, honey, Kay and I have been working at the pound and he was so cute, I just couldn't resist bringing him home.
Honey, I don't mind you getting a dog, but couldn't you get a man's dog?
I mean, these dogs are so frail and pute and...
Welcome to the family.
Well, he's a cute little thing, isn't he?
What's his name?
Pierre.
He's a lost dog.
Nobody claimed him.
If you offer him a biscuit, he rolls over.
If somebody offered me a biscuit, I'd roll over, too.
Oh, come on, doll.
I'll fix your lunch right now.
Did I neglect my sweetheart?
I don't know about him, but I'm starving.
Oh, come on.
Roger, wait.
Don't you want to see the cute tricks Pierre can do?
I do not like these barking, noisy creatures.
He can't forget the time that a dog bit him on the beach.
Neither can the dog.
I bit him right back.
Come on, Pete.
Come on, Pierre.
Let's see if you can do some tricks.
Yeah.
Oh, you're so cute.
Maybe you can sit up, huh?
Yeah, Pete.
Come on, Pierre.
Sit up.
Come on, sit.
Oh, look.
Hey, that's great.
Isn't that adorable?
Just the three of us here.
Carol, I want you and Wilbur to see the sweater that I got for little Pierre.
Sure, come on over.
Addison doll, wait till you see what I just bought.
Woman, have you no regard for money?
Of course.
I love it.
Then why do you get rid of it so fast?
How do you like it?
Beautiful.
Wear it in good health.
No, it's for Pierre.
My money is buying ermine for a dog?
How come you didn't buy a mink?
Don't be silly, doll.
It wouldn't go with his coloring.
Ermine for a dog, and I have to scrounge for a sandwich.
Carol, look what I got for Pierre.
Any dog would love it, wouldn't he?
Oh, it's adorable.
Wilbur, look, an ermine sweater for Pierre.
Oh, Roger, you shouldn't.
Oh, Wilbur, I didn't.
I hope it's the right size.
If it's too small, Pierre can always wear it as a stole.
Oh, Wilbur, look.
Hold still, Pierre.
You'll love every minute of it.
Beautiful fit.
Isn't it a beautiful fit, Roger?
Like the cut of a pocket.
I like it.
Darling.
It just suits him.
It's marvelous.
This town's not big enough for both of us.
That French mutt's gotta go.
It's one o'clock.
Up, Pierre.
Rise and shine.
Bark.
Wake up that Roger Addison.
Louder, Pierre.
Let's hear it for all day.
Come on.
Bark.
That's a nice little stupid dog.
I knew this would happen.
I knew it.
Oh, please don't call, Wilbur.
It's one o'clock and you'll wake them.
Fine.
We'll have a pajama party.
Wrong number.
Please, doll, they're our friends.
Don't start anything.
I am not going to spend the rest of my life falling out of bed at one o'clock in the morning.
Calm yourself, sweetheart.
Oh, there's a nice doggie.
Doll.
Let's go to sleep.
Sorry I'm late with your breakfast, Ed, but I had to feed Pierre.
You know it's hard to find out what a little dog wants.
Well, that's okay.
As long as the little fella's happy.
Say, I hope his barking didn't wake you up last night.
What barking?
Didn't hear a thing.
Wilbur, there's something I'd like to talk to you about.
I know.
I'm sorry our dog woke you up last night.
It won't happen again.
Oh, you sold him?
No.
I'm going to spend the day teaching him not to bark.
You're a strange man, Wilbur.
First a horse, now a dog.
I hope the camels move in.
Anybody who doesn't like dogs is no good in my book.
Hey, meatloaf, rise and shine.
I'm Grouch Addison.
Come on, Pierre, bark.
Wilbur's training got to him.
Come on, Pierre, bark.
Like this.
Arf, arf, arf.
That's it, keep it up.
Never mind my butt pressure.
I'm going to get that mutter on Mugrazu.
Arf, arf, arf.
What's he worried about?
About him waking up out of a sound sleep.
Oh, poor baby.
I wonder why he was barking.
Maybe he heard a noise.
Impossible.
He would have awakened dead.
Wilbur, you promised.
I think I've been very nice about this.
You're absolutely right.
What's wrong with little Pierre?
What is wrong with him?
Carol thinks the dog may have heard a sudden noise.
That was me falling out of bed.
Kids, don't be angry with Addison.
He's a little nervous because he hasn't been sleeping very much lately.
I mean, bye now.
Why can't you fall asleep?
He can't count sheep.
Maybe he's hungry.
Oh, I'll give him some more milk.
Ed.
Coming, Mother.
Oh, hi, Wilbur.
What's up?
Pierre woke up the Addisons again with his barking.
That poor little pup.
He's probably teething.
He might be right.
He needs love, affection, someone who cares.
Ed, you are all heart.
Oh.
We got to do something for that little dog.
I sure will.
Operator, get me the police department.
Oh, come on, Roger.
We want you over for breakfast.
Roger?
What?
Why is that, Wilbur?
We want you and Kay over for breakfast.
I'm sorry about last night.
I promise you it won't happen again.
What do you say, Roger?
Will you come over?
We're having your favorite, Kipper's.
Roger?
Huh?
Kipper's?
No, no, this is not the Kipper residence.
You have the wrong number.
This is Mr. Addison.
Roger, don't hang up.
This is Wilbur.
Carol is having your favorite for breakfast.
Kipper's.
Well, why didn't you say so?
Yeah, we'll be right over.
Kipper's?
Okay, honey, they're coming.
Oh, wonderful.
Kay once told me that Roger loves Kipper's.
Well, he'll flip over yours.
Nobody kips a Kipper like you do, kid.
Mr. Post?
Yes?
You own a dog?
Yes, what's wrong?
We've had a complaint that your dog's barking is waking the neighborhood.
What?
This is a warning.
Next time, we'll have to take action.
Who complained?
Mr. Thompson.
Thompson?
Officer, there's no Thompson in this neighborhood.
Well, you know how it is.
Neighbors sometimes hesitate to use their right name.
I'd keep that dog quiet if I were you.
Mr. Thompson.
I wonder who that is.
Kipper's.
Oh, that heavenly older...
Hello, Roger.
Good morning.
Oh, they look delicious.
Did I forget to say, may I?
Don't act so innocent, Mr. Thompson.
What are you talking about?
We're talking about a man who would stab his neighbor in the back when his dog was turned.
Now, go in the house and play with Addison.
Good morning, darlings.
Look at the cute little booties that I bought for Pierre.
No Kippers for me, no booties for that hound.
Don't you call my dog a hound.
Kay, you belong to the Humane Society.
How could you let Roger do a thing like that?
What did he do?
Eat all the Kippers?
They've accused me of turning their dog into the police.
They did?
Well, that wasn't very nice of you, Addison.
Kay, I did nothing.
Now, wait a minute, Thompson.
And stop calling me Thompson.
Honestly, you two.
Please sit down, Roger.
Here, honey, sit down here, please.
It'll soon be just the three of us again.
Pierre ought to love that little doghouse.
I can't get over that guy calling the police.
He makes Fagin look like a Girl Scout.
That Addison.
He brings out the beast in me.
If only you could buy back my introduction to him.
Post?
What is it, Thompson?
You know my name.
It's on that hammer you borrowed last week.
Since when is your name Sears Roebuck?
That's my initials right there, R-A.
Oh, Rotten Apple.
See here, Post.
You're tarnishing my belt buckle.
For your information, it will never tarnish.
I gave you that belt for your birthday,
and the buckle is solid gold.
Gold-plated.
Oh, I suppose you had it priced.
I didn't have to.
You left the price ticket in the box.
I'm not ashamed of what I paid for it.
That cost me $13.95.
$3.95?
You put a one in front of the three.
Look, the stores don't close till five.
Maybe you can get your money back.
I don't care about the $3.95.
I...
I don't see you returning that tie I gave you for Christmas.
Oh, oh, oh.
Temper, temper, temper.
I gave you something for Christmas, too.
All right.
Happy now?
No.
I gave you a hat.
And stop being childish.
Me, childish?
You phone the police, and I'm childish.
I did nothing of the kind.
Oh, what's the use?
Please get up.
You are denting my dichondra.
Roger, what happened?
Wilbur, where's your shirt?
Well, Mr. Thompson here.
I'll explain.
Carol, whatever you saw in that man,
it's not there anymore.
Come on now, boys.
Wait, Roger.
Wilbur, make up.
Say something.
Okay.
Get off my property.
Wilbur, please.
I do not want to discuss it anymore.
Idiots.
Here's something for your nerves, doll.
How can Wilbur accuse me of turning in his dog?
You never know who your friends are
until a thing like this happens.
Oh, you're right, dear.
Now tell me, why did you call the police?
Kay, you've got to believe me.
Well, you really don't like Pierre.
May I lose every penny I have in the bank
if I call the police?
Now I believe you.
Carol, sweetie?
Right here, Kay.
Sweetie, we've got to get this thing settled once and for all.
Now, where's Wilbur?
Upstairs.
Kay, if Roger would only apologize to Wilbur.
Well, that's why I came over.
Addison never called the police.
Are you sure?
He swore on his money belt,
and that's good enough for me.
Wilbur?
Yes?
Kay is here, and she said that Roger
did not make that phone call.
Oh, then he's not really Mr. Thompson.
Well, if he were, then I'd be Mrs. Thompson.
Mr. Post?
I've just had another complaint.
I'm sorry, but I've come to pick up your dog.
What complaint?
That same Mr. Thompson again.
Does he sound like he had a mustache?
I don't know who he is,
but he sure doesn't like barking dogs.
Excuse me.
I'm afraid I'll have to pick up your dog.
Where is he?
He's out playing.
I'm afraid I'll have to pick up your dog.
Where is he?
He's out back.
Just a minute, officer.
Do you have a warrant to arrest that dog?
Yes, have you got one?
Oh, come now, folks.
Every dog has its rights.
Take it easy.
Our constitution guarantees freedom of speech.
A dog can't speak, so he barks.
Look, I've got a job to do.
Now, where'd that dog go?
There he is!
Come on!
Right here!
Right!
Right here!
Doll, you've got to take something for your nerves.
Kay, I did not make that first call nor the second,
and I don't understand why Wilbur doesn't believe me.
Well, sweetie, sometimes you don't believe me either.
We're married.
I'll have another pill.
I don't need a pill.
I've got one living next door,
and I'm going over there to talk with him right now.
But, Addison, dear, please, you'll be sick.
You're so nervous.
Bark!
Excuse me.
You get out of my house.
I'm going to get my dog.
But, Addison, you wanted to speak to Wilbur.
In his house.
He's not welcome in my house.
I don't want guys like you that give stool pigeons a bad name.
Excuse me, doll.
That way.
Excuse me.
Excuse me, please.
Will you kindly leave my house?
I'd like to take my arm with me.
And I'll thank you never to bother my lawnmower again.
Don't worry.
The next time I catch you sniffing my roses,
I'll phone the police.
Did the dog run through here?
Post the minute you moved in next door,
I knew there'd be trouble.
Excuse me.
A man that would turn in a little dog.
Excuse me.
Who would sell out his own brother.
And at a profit.
I don't have a brother.
The best thing that could have happened to him.
What are you doing here, you little troublemaker?
Ed, is Pierre in there?
No, I haven't seen the little angel.
Addison called the police again.
They want to take Pierre back to the pound.
Well, maybe the little fellow would be happier there.
Ed, don't say that.
When a dog gets marked as a troublemaker,
nobody wants him.
He'd spend the rest of his life in the pound.
The rest of his life?
Yes, and he's just a little puppy.
Imagine Pierre being locked up for the rest of his life.
No family, nothing.
I never thought of that.
That's what'll happen to Pierre.
Locked up until he's too old.
And then...
Wilbur.
Yeah?
I've got a confession to make.
Confession? What?
I am Mr. Thompson.
What?
You made those phone calls?
Yeah.
Ed, why did you do it?
Since Pierre came here, you don't know I'm alive.
Oh, Ed.
You've got no reason to be jealous.
Well, there's nobody around here could ever take your place.
You mean that, Wilbur.
Of course I do.
Ed, we're buddies.
Let's shake on it.
All right, let's shake.
There.
Ahem.
Well, am I keeping you up?
Pierre.
Did you see the dog?
Officer, you can forget about it.
Mr. Thompson said he's calling off his complaint.
He did, huh?
Yes.
He said he'd call the police station and talk to the sergeant personally.
I wish that Thompson would make up his mind.
Quiet, boy.
What did you say?
Believe me, I didn't say anything.
I suppose it was the horse.
It was.
Okay, I'm so worried.
Where could Pierre be?
Maybe that officer found him and took him back to the pound.
Oh, no.
The poor little thing.
Roger.
Roger, I'm sorry.
I know you didn't call the police.
Mr. Thompson just told me that he did.
Are we still friends?
Now, really, Addison.
Pierre.
You've been protecting him.
I have not.
I don't know how he got here.
Do you see now why I married this cupcake?
Let's not get mushy.
He likes you, Mr. Thompson.
I mean Roger.
That's right.
So I'll get him.
Here he is now.
Wilbur, tell them all.
Thanks, Dick.
Hello.
Yes, this is Mr. Post.
Little dog?
He's right here, yeah.
Yes, he's a gray miniature poodle.
With the Dutch trim, that's right.
Oh.
Well, okay.
Thank you very much.
Goodbye.
That was the pound.
They've located Pierre's owner.
It's a little boy.
Gee, I'll miss this pup.
We all will.
Well, I better go and tell Carol.
Uh, Wilbur.
What?
Get that little boy's address, will you?
What for?
Well, I might just want to nip Pierre something one of these days.
Oh, and just like I said, you're all hot.
Uh.
I wonder if you can understand what I've been saying, Pierre.
I like you.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course.
And no one can talk to a horse, of course.
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. A.
Go right to the source and ask the horse.
He'll give you the answer that you endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. A.
He'll go yakety-yak the street and waste your time a day.
But Mr. Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course.
And this one will talk till his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well, listen to this.
I am Mr. Ed.
This has been a Filmways television presentation.