Savannah Morning News, January 1, 1998

As the Uga dynasty stretched into its fifth decade this season, Uga V raised the bar of popularity, becoming a dog as heroic as Rin Tin Tin and as lovable as Lassie

B Y - T I M O T H Y - G U I D E R A

ike most celebrities, he's different at home, more relaxed, less aware of his status. Away from his fame, he can be unassuming, easily pleased and guilty of the commonest of comforts.

A familiar chair.

A faithful routine of dining and napping.

A favorite chew toy covered with his own slobber and teeth marks.

OK, so maybe Uga is not the typical celebrity. But he is, in every sense, a major star.

UGA IV's Magillicuddy II, as he is registered has served as the mascot for the University of Georgia's sports teams for eight years, but only recently has Uga V become a crossover star of unquestioned appeal. He is fifth in a line of purebred English screwtail bulldogs owned by Savannahians Sonny and Cecelia Seiler and provided by them as an ambassador to their alma mater in one of the university's richest and oldest traditions. But he has become first in broad recognition.

This one seems to enjoy it more than the others did," Cecelia Seiler, Uga's primary care-giver at home, says of the current mascot. "He likes the attention more. He just loves being around people and being a part of everything. He is just a nice dog."

As the only male pup in the final litter fathered by his predecessor, perhaps notoriety was Uga V's birthright. But unbridled stardom has been this dog's unique bend on the Uga legend that this season entered its fifth decade.

The pug-nosed, squat, parenthesis-legged cutie has caught the attention of publishers, producers and people who simply want to be seen with him. His exposure has grown unchecked from the hedged sidelines of Georgia's Sanford Stadium to screens large and small, magazines, websites, newspapers, advertisements and simple conversation.

More than any before him, he has become the Uga of the People.

In the past 13 months, Uga V has been named America's Best College Mascot by Sports Illustrated, been profiled by four different television networks that have broadcast a total of seven Georgia football games this season, received a Senate Tribute that was entered into the 105th Congress and played the panting, drooling part of his father, Uga IV, in the movie "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil."

"This is unprecedented," said Charles Seiler, Sonny and Cecelia's 38-year-old son, who for 25 years has been Uga's on-field chaperon at Georgia football games. "I've seen it sort of as a cycle. When Georgia won the national championship in 1980, he rode a wave of popularity for a while, but there has never been anything like this before.

"I think it's more so because of the TV exposure and Sports Illustrated. The movie just happened. And, actually, he didn't play that big a part in the real life thing other than being the attorney's bulldog and maybe my dad doing a few things for the University of Georgia and not (his client) Jim Williams. But Clint Eastwood kind of expanded that role."

In addition to his burgeoning career in mass media, during the last year Uga V also maintained a typically heavy schedule of charity-function appearances, upstaged the human stars at Midnight's Savannah premiere by showing up in his own custom tuxedo and has been reproduced on a brass Christmas ornament issued by Easter Seals of North Georgia. To confirm just how contemporary this craze is, Cecelia Seiler recently received the prototype for an Uga Beanie Baby that will soon be issued by Shoney's.

Sonny Seiler, meanwhile, contends that this Uga is no more popular than any of his predecessors, that "he has received some attention, obviously, that the others did not, but they received attention that he hasn't. They have all been very popular."

Georgia's top dog will be back in the national spotlight again today when he leads the resurgent Bulldogs—seeking their first 10-win season since 1992—onto the field at Tampa's Houlihan's Stadium for the Outback Bowl against Wisconsin.

Yet, for all his success, he remains silently unaffected.

A sort of modern-day Chaplin, Uga is more expressive in pictures than words. He has rarely been heard by anyone outside his immediate family and doesn't discuss his current popularity surge. in fact, he dismisses most questions with a sort of slobbering gurgle that could best be duplicated by sucking Jell-O through a garbage disposal.

So, without comment straight from the dog's mouth, the impressions of his closest associates and longest observers must qualify the rise.

"Ugas have always been popular to Georgia people and children and adults alike, but now this dog has gotten a national reputation," says Georgia athletic director Vince Dooley, who has known and worked with each of the five Ugas. "He is the most famous.

"I had honestly had some reservations about this Uga earlier because he hadn't enjoyed the same (on-field) success as some others. But after this year and the way the team has come back, I'm sold on him. He can now walk alongside his father and grandfather and great-grandfather as far as productivity."

A new legacy

Uga III retired a champion, his final official function as mascot coming at the 1981 Sugar Bowl at which Georgia clinched the 1980 national title.

Uga IV presided over the most consistently successful period in the schools' football history, becoming the only dog to reach a bowl game in each year of his tenure, attending the 1982 Heisman Trophy Banquet and the 1983 NCAA Final Four. Upon his death in February 1990, he was named by Dooley "Dog of the Decade" and is also Cecelia Seiler's admitted favorite.

Clearly, others have exceeded Uga V in production. But none ever approached his level of popularity or demonstrated his singular personality. Increased television coverage of college football has contributed to the swell of attention, but Uga V's exposure is not limited by seasons.

Throughout the year, the Georgia athletic department receives requests for information on or video of him. People want to know how to contact him, where they can send him gifts and if they can have his custom-sewn clothing—complete with Nike swoosh and Georgia game jersey material. They can't

The unrivaled leader of the Uga line in filling requests for pawtographed photos—produced in the Seiler's garage with white shoe polish and a personal footprint signature—this current Georgia mascot arguably has become America's best-known dog since Spuds McKenzie spurred a national craze in the 1980s.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Claude Felton, Georgia's sports information director since 1979. "Our mascot in general has always been kind of unique and well-known nationally. But this particular one, in this particular year, has certainly outdone himself. They all have had a place to hang their hat. He just has a lot more of them."

But, while his copyrighted image appears on billboards throughout the state and he has endorsement deals ranging from dog food to airlines to insurance companies, Uga is more symbol than salesman.

He is an icon as much as a mascot, the school's own emblem of loyalty, determination and spirit, all of which, in Georgia, has made him as heroic as Rin Tin Tin and as lovable as Lassie.

And that is something he shares with his ancestors. As is his ordinary home life.

"He's really treated like a dog at home, he really is," said Cecelia Seiler, whose family receives no financial benefit from its arrangement with the school.

The University must approve use of Uga's copyrighted image—although the Seilers are granted the courtesy of refusal—and receives all monies from Uga's endorsement deals. The Seilers, meanwhile, do not accept reimbursement for travel to games or official functions and pay for their football season tickets, although Uga's handlers receive two sideline passes for each game.

"He is just a family pet at home," Mrs. Seiler continued. "And he is treated like every other family pet."

Provided, that is, that "every other pet" flies for free—courtesy of Delta Airlines—has a contract to receive free dog food, a personal seamstress, an air-conditioned dog house as an office and has a reserved burial plot alongside his ancestors. Even in death, Ugas redefine the term "a dog's life," as they are laid to rest inside Sanford Stadium in an elaborate tomb made of slate, cement and Georgia marble.

"These dogs are something special," said Dooley, who foresees a long future between Uga and the university. "We have something going now. It's something that's got to be continued. We can't have the university being without the lineage continuing. It's too much a part of the history, the legacy and the tradition of the university."

A single straight line

Each Uga has been identical stock, a product of the same bloodline that has produced five generations of Georgia mascots so similar that even an expert as informed as Charles Seiler can tell them apart only by comparing the shapes of their heads in side-by-side photographs.

The desired effect is continuity of the image, to exceed resemblance and attain virtual sameness so as to seamlessly perpetrate the Uga mystique. But each successive dog is becoming more distinctive physically.

Cecelia Seiler, who spends more time than anyone with Uga, determines which dog will be awarded the distinction of mascot whenever a successor is needed. Because she frequently must lift Uga into the family's car—bulldogs generally don't bound into the backseat—she has started selecting smaller dogs.

With one look at a week-old puppy, Mrs. Seiler can predict with impressive accuracy how large a dog it will become. As a result, she has been successful in reducing Uga from an 80-pound porker in the '60s and '70s to a svelte and shapely 49-pounder today.

"I have tried to improve with each dog," she said. "I can always pick the best dog of the litter. And I haven't been wrong yet."

Uga by the numbers V THINGS Uga CAN DO THAT YOU CAN'T Fly for free (Delta provides transportation and a custom kennel) Hang out inside the hedges on game days Drool cutely Sleep under Vince Dooley's desk Be buried in Sanford Stadium IV REASONS THIS IS THE COOLEST Uga His role in Midnight His Sports Illustrated cover His tuxedo The Auburn Incident III FAVORITE Ugas Cecelia Seiler: Uga IV "I just thought he was perfect. He just looked perfect." Vince Dooley: Otto (substitute for injured Uga IV) "I have always had a great affection for those who come off the bench and perform and he did that and had a great run." Sonny Seiler: Every Uga "I don't have a favorite. I loved them each in their time and individually miss them all. They're all very dear to me." II PREVIOUS UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA MASCOTS A Goat A Wildcat I OTHER SEILER PET The family cat who doesn't share Uga's fanfare "Oh, we just call her kitty," says Mrs. Seiler. Uga Tombstone Inscriptions Uga I "Damn Good Dog" Uga II "Not Bad For a Dog" Uga III "How About This Dog" Uga IV "The Dog of the Decade" Who's who? Because Uga doesn't do hand-me-downs, each dog's respective wardrobe is often the most effective means of distinguishing them. At least that's how Cecelia Seiler tells them apart in old pictures. From the homey, hand-crafted shirt that hung askew on Uga I to the current sleek, custom-fitted, Nike-logoed jersey tailored of authentic game-jersey material by Marietta seamstress Nonie Sutton, the clothes may not have made the dogs, but they have made up the slight difference between them. What they've said about Uga V Sports Illustrated in naming Uga America's Best College Mascot in April, 1997 "If you can't appreciate the swaggering gait and Churchillian physiognomy of Uga V, the Bulldog's bulldog, you must be a cat lover." Dog Fancy September, 1991 issue "In a state where the division between religion and football is blurred, where traditions concerning the beloved dogs are rigidly upheld, Seiler's bulldog is roaming the sidelines. Uga's popularity, some say, falls somewhere between that of former coach Vince Dooley and long-time broadcaster Larry Munson." The 105th Congress Paul Coverdale in a Senate Tribute to Uga V, America's No. 1 Mascot on May 14, 1997 "Uga V and his forefathers have helped the University of Georgia to build one of the most respected and successful athletic programs in the country . . . it is with great pride that I congratulate the University of Georgia for all of its academic and athletic accomplishments, and Uga, America's No. 1 mascot. Defensive tackle Matt Storm prior to 1994 Florida game "That dog is crazy. He sits in the corner of the end zone and goes after everyone that goes near him. That dog is great. I wish his owner would let him loose one of these days down the Florida sideline and let him take care of some ankles. It's fun having him down there. It really is." Sporting News in naming Uga Best Mascot of the South in Aug. 23, 1993 issue "Since 1956, Georgia's Uga has patrolled the sidelines of games home and away and in the process has become one of the nation's most recognized mascots." The Bulldogger in Winter, 1991 edition "The most well-known bulldog in the country is Uga, the University of Georgia mascot." Jim Williams to John Kelso in "Midnight": "No matter what we do in our lives, neither one of us will ever be as famous as Uga."

Although the custodianship of a legend was admittedly a learned skill.

When Sonny Seiler, then a law student at Georgia, and Cecelia received the original Uga as a wedding gift in 1955, they were as blind to what would follow as they were bright-eyed about being newlyweds.

Once Cecelia bought a child's red T-shirt at J.C. Penney, sewed on elastic and a hand-crafted black G and Sonny walked the puppy around Sanford Stadium on that first balmy football Saturday of 1956, the Seilers' lives and the identity of the university changed forever.

Longtime tennis coach and sports information director Dan Magill took an immediate liking to the dog—Mike, the school's previous canine representative had died, creating a natural vacancy—and football coach Wally Butts quickly was won over as well. Sonny Seiler, who was working in the athletic ticket office at the time, offered to bring Uga to all home games and, upon graduating in 1957, announced that the dog had become a pet and would be returning to Savannah with him and his wife, but offered to return to all football games and school functions at which the new mascot was needed.

"This," said Sonny Seiler, "suited coach Butts and that's how the Uga dynasty was born."

In subsequent years too many Uga wannabes also were born.

The dog quickly became popular in Athens and around the state and, in the early years, the Seilers agreed to many of the requests from people who wanted to breed their own bulldogs with Uga.

"At one point, Uga was kin to everybody in the world," says Mrs. Seiler. "But we've stopped doing that because some of those dogs were so ugly. Now there's only one or two people that we use."

The current breeding method is somewhat more tasteful because of the selectiveness. It is also safer because the mating is performed in a veterinarian's office and medically supervised.

Recent Ugas have been bred approximately twice per year and not during football season, which the dog is most active. But the new system is not without its own inherent risk.

Each of the last two mascots were the last all-white male pups born to their fathers and Uga V was not born until 11 days after Uga IV had passed away, making for an anxious time in the Seiler household and, ultimately, disappointment for Artie, the year-old all-white male born in a previous litter who had been slated to be the next mascot until the surprising arrival of UGA IV's Magillicuddy II.

"We were elated," Sonny Seiler wrote in a 1990 article for the Georgia football program. "We always want to use the youngest solid white male available and it made no sense to start a dog that would be almost two years of age in September. We elected to go with Uga's last-born son."

Subtle scientific differences

Because Uga doesn't do hand-me-downs, each dog's respective wardrobe is often the most effective means of distinguishing them. At least that's how Cecelia Seiler tells them apart in old pictures.

From the homey, hand-crafted shirt that hung askew on Uga I to the current sleek, custom-fitted Nike-logoed jersey tailored of authentic game jersey material by Marietta seamstress Nonie Sutton, the clothes may not have made the dogs, but they have made up the slight difference between them.

But closer examination would reveal another way to distinguish the latest dog. Excellent health is relatively new to Uga V.

"This dog is in the best shape of all of them," says Mrs. Seiler. "He doesn't have the eye problems or the major skin problems that the others had. I'm very careful about what he eats and he stays inside more than the others."

Better understanding of the dog's needs and advancements in veterinary medicine make this dog the most capable of performing his duties.

To accommodate easier breathing, especially at early-season day games played in August and September heat, Uga V's nostrils were surgically clipped and his nasal passages widened. He had adenoids removed from his neck at a young age and underwent surgery to rebuild the cruciate ligament in his right rear leg following the 1995 football season.

Unlike some others before him, he is subject to a stricter diet of Hill's Science Dog Food and fewer sweets—excepting, of course, the scoop of vanilla ice cream he suckers out of Sonny Seiler almost every night. And this dog also avoided a formerly common procedure of transplanting a saliva gland inside his eyelid to fight a malady typical to bulldogs called dry eye because the problem can now be treated medically.

"You could be eating and old Uga III would be sitting there, crying away because he was salivating from his eyes," said Charles Seiler. "The biggest challenge to us right now is keeping his skin clear and keeping plenty of water in his system, but the university has been really good about lending us the services of the College of Veterinary Medicine.

"As the dogs have gotten more comfortable in the arena, they have been able to look like and act like they're better off and be more comfortable. A happy dog is going to feel better and respond better."

A pure white puppy is a rarity in an already rare breed of English bulldog, so much so that they regularly sell for $5,000 in Georgia. But the medical attention administered to the Seiler's dog is reportedly invaluable, making Uga a miracle improved by man.

Reportedly, he receives a detailed checkup from the university's College of Veterinary Medicine when he arrives in Athens for home games and, reportedly, has a veterinary student assigned to him on the sidelines each week.

These are all qualified as "reported" facts because a request for information on the unique and special care provided Uga was refused. Evidently, Uga V enjoys doctor-dog confidentiality.

"Uga is considered a VIP client and any care administered to him is considered private information," said Jordana Rice, the public relations director for the University of Georgia College of Veterinary Medicine. "I can tell you that he is treated very well. But, as far as specific care, we are not at liberty to discuss that."

A legend jumps out

It all started in an instant. The interest. The notoriety. The nationwide reputation. The rampant Uga-mania that has reached from Hardeeville to Hollywood and has shown no sign of slowing. This transcendent popularity achieved by Uga V took as long as a bark to begin.

And, unlike the image that is carefully planned by his owners and protected by the university, the emergence of his star quality was spontaneously inspired and created solely by the dog.

On the final play of the first quarter in the ninth week of the 1996 season, Auburn running back Robert Baker scored on a 6-yard pass, putting Georgia behind 14-7. But, before baker could celebrate, he was retreating.

As the Auburn player reached the back of the end zone, Uga V leaped forward, perched on his hind legs and straining at his leash. The dog's lunge forced Baker into a defensive dance step that made him appear as if he was trying to avoid an open manhole during a full sprint.

Whether he was being playful, as Charles Seiler contends, or protective, as suggested by Cecelia Seiler, Uga had an instant identity, a sudden individuality not enjoyed by any of his predecessors.

"His incredible reaction in the Auburn game separated him from the other Ugas," said Dooley. "No other dog had ever expressed himself in such a competitive way as he did in a ball game that caught a lot of national attention."

The response to Uga V's action that day was both swift and sure.

The ESPN video became an instant highlight and continues to be shown on stadium scoreboard screens. Requests for a still photo of the incident—taken at precisely the time at which Uga and baker were at the height of their reactions—began reaching the Montgomery Advertiser, where the photo appeared, and the University of Georgia Sports Information office the next day and have not stopped.

After receiving 1,000 reprint requests during the first three weeks—presumably from Auburn haters as well as Georgia lovers—the newspaper established an independent ordering system solely for that picture.

"It felt like we were in the full-time Uga business," said Paula Moore, the Advertiser's executive editor.

The demand continued and, a week before this year's Auburn game, the Advertiser contacted Felton and asked him to inform future callers to his office that no more reprints could be produced.

Apparently, the negative had been irreparably damaged by the 3,000 copies that had been made. The newspaper has declined another 2,000 reprint requests since it stopped selling copies.

"The response was amazing," said Ken Roberts, the Advertiser's assistant city editor. "It was crushing workload to process all those requests. I can't think of anything else that would remotely rival that interest. Second place would be about 15 or 20 requests."

The Auburn photo had differing impacts on two of its principals.

Photographer Patricia Miklik earned no money from her shot because it was considered company property. She eventually took a job with the Huntsville News, meanwhile Uga V went from ordinary mascot to extraordinary star.

"Before that, I would say this Uga wasn't any more popular than any others. His dad was the one that received all the attention," said Felton.

"I think the Uga-Auburn incident kind of started a 12-month snowball for Uga V that led up the Sports Illustrated cover and then the movie. Those three incidents created a lot of national attention in a short period of time and, in between, this dog is still doing all the things involving the athletic teams and the university that all the other dogs have done.

"He's been a pretty active dog. He's been a national figure."

Uga at home

It's two weeks before Christmas and Uga V is relaxing at home.

He is surrounded by gifts sent to him by strangers—mostly ornaments adorned with his image—Christmas cards and an abundance of portraits, awards, collars and the tassels from various Georgia graduation ceremonies. Above the fireplace are the Christmas stockings with the likeness that Mrs. Seiler hand-crocheted for her four grandchildren and atop the family's Christmas tree is a bulldog angel.

The entire room—the den in the Seiler's Dutch Island Home— is an ever-expanding shrine to Uga's popularity. It is unmistakably surreal tribute, like a museum containing artists along with their work.

Uga is at home there. But mostly, he is back in his element because he again is the center of attention. The subject of yet another photo shoot, he loves every minute of it and is suddenly transformed from Uga the pet to Uga the star.

He's playfully coy, turning away from the camera as often as posing, but unfailingly professional when he finally turns straight toward the lens, drops his jaw, lets his tongue hang out and lays on the classic bulldog smile.

If he seems natural, it's because he is. None of the Ugas have required professional training.

"Why would he? All he's got to know how to do is walk and run," says Mrs. Seiler. "We know the right way to hold a leash if we have to, but if I said, 'Uga, sit, or roll over, or play dead,' uh-uh. Uga doesn't do tricks."

Not that he's an old dog.

But he will turn eight in March and only Uga I served past that age. According to the Bulldog Club of America, the life expectancy for an English Bulldog is 10 years. And although the Humane Society contends that any dog that enjoys a loving, caring home can be expected to live longer, this Uga is closer to the end of his reign than the beginning.

"I think he has at least three good years left," says Mrs. Seiler, who will not select Uga V's successor until she is forced to. "I just think it's too soon. And I never have a backup. We don't use an heir and a spare."

But sometime, perhaps before the turn of the century, UGA IV's Magillicuddy II will retire from his official function as an ambassador for school and state and retreat from his celebrity. He will relax in Savannah and Mrs. Seiler will pick another perfectly white male puppy to serve as Georgia's mascot.

"There will always be an Uga," says Sonny Seiler. "My family is dedicated enough to continue this great tradition."

This latest Uga will continue to be remembered for his playfulness and revered as the pooch that brought the tradition's prominence to a level of phenomenon. He may not have a national championship or Final Four appearance in his career, but he will leave behind an unequaled legacy of popularity.

Ultimately, after being replaced by Uga VI, the current icon will join Ugas I, II, III, and IV in their marble crypt inside Sanford Stadium. And with an engraved tomb marker etched with a fond remembrance—"Dog of the Century," has been suggested—he too will be honored in the ceremonial graveyard adjacent to the southwest end of the field. He will enjoy his eternal place in the school's history.

And only then will he be like any other Uga.

Back to Top . Up Front . Features . Back Issues . Alumni Profiles . Class Notes . Contact Us . Search . Subscribe . Links . UGA Today . HOME