From 1001 to 1 : Progress Is Sending Fire Station Dalmatians the Way of the Old Bucket Brigade

Pluggie doesn’t make messes. Pluggie doesn’t invite lawsuits. Pluggie is bilingual.

Pluggie this. Pluggie that. Everybody loves Pluggie.

The hydrant-shaped, robotic, fire safety mascot is everything Ventura County’s only firefighting Dalmatian--Sprinkles--isn’t. And it’s the automated likes of Pluggie, as well as apathy and a fear of lawsuits, that are making the legendary peppered pooch a historical curiosity.

Renowned for looking cool as they accompany firefighters to emergencies, Dalmatians are fast disappearing from fire stations. Only 7% of all firefighters questioned in a recent national survey said their departments have Dalmatian mascots.

And in Ventura County? Five fire departments, 45 stations and just one Dalmatian--Sprinkles.

“I know all about the nostalgia and all, but we don’t have a mascot,” said Battalion Chief Kevin Rennie of the Ventura Fire Department. “No dogs, no nothing.”

And even Sprinkles--who “stops, drops and rolls” with the best of them--can feel America’s automated future nipping at her paws as she competes with the Pluggie mystique for children’s affections at fire safety demonstrations.

Sure kids like Sprinkles. But they love Pluggie.

“Pluggie brings the best out in them,” said Sandi Wells, a Ventura County Fire Department spokeswoman. “They tell Pluggie everything. Pluggie’s cool.”

Not only does Sprinkles have to compete at the Ventura County Fire Department with a remote-controlled canine comfort station, she also has to deal with Sparky--a Dalmatian-headed costume with an imbecilic grin and trademark name.

Sparky’s got his fans, but the jumble of synthetic fibers is limited. His voice is copyrighted too.

“The problem with Sparky, and the reason I don’t particularly care for Sparky, is he can’t talk,” said Sprinkles’ guardian, Ventura County Firefighter John Foy. “He can only shake hands and wave. That’s the limit of Sparky.”

There was a time--back when firefighters raced to emergencies in horse-drawn carts--that Dalmatians were viewed as essential. They fearlessly raced between the horses’ legs to keep them galloping and then tended to the frightened horses while their masters fought fires.

So enamored were early firefighters with Dalmatians, that when the internal combustion engine replaced the horse, the dogs stayed. The mascots lazily earned their kibble marching in parades and keeping firefighters company during their long shifts.

But as the world became more complex, so did justifying keeping the dogs.

Being speckled, cute and eager to please just wasn’t enough to earn a permanent meal ticket at the county’s station houses.

“They were phased out like the old fire bell,” said Robert Hall, assistant chief of the Santa Paula Fire Department.

Many fire officials label the excitable Dalmatians--which have been known to bite--an “adverse risk” in today’s tort-happy society.

Liability closed the doggie door on mascots all over the Southland.

“Our last Dalmatian, Turbo, nipped a child and that was it,” said Los Angeles County Fire Capt. Steve Valenzuela, of the department’s ban on four-legged companions. “Liability killed off mascots in general.”

One by one, Ventura County’s aging canines handed in their badges until only Sprinkles remained.

Oxnard’s last two Dalmatians retired 30 years ago, their names long forgotten.

“We only have working dogs now,” Oxnard Fire Capt. Steve Caplan said. “Fire departments keep arson dogs and search-and-rescue dogs but not dogs that just run around the station keeping us company.”

Most county fire departments have even banned the legendary canine from sleeping in station quarters. When Spinkles visits Foy’s Thousand Oaks station, she has to snooze in the car.

Few firefighters appear upset with today’s dearth of Dalmatians. Bad mouthing isn’t uncommon.

“Have you ever lived with a Dalmatian?” asked Ventura County Firefighter Mel Lovo. “They’re nervous, spastic and hard to control. They shed hair, they smell bad and they make a mess.”

Many firefighters prefer noncommittal relationships with stray cats.

“No mess, no fuss,” Ventura Fire Capt. Roger Morganthaler said. “Plus they keep the rats and mice down.”

Whether she’s welcome at county fire stations or not, Sprinkles is as busy as ever at local schools.

Pluggie’s in the shop with a bad battery, and the polka-dot pooch is the only other act in town that can do more than wave.