The Heroine Who Got Thrown Under the Bus

So you know the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz, right? You’ve probably seen it more than once. Are you one of those who thinks that Dorothy is the heroine? Well, let me set you straight because I starred in that movie, and you’re wrong. Dead wrong. If this reminds you of the musical Wicked and reimagining a character you thought you knew, you’re on the right track. 

Let’s begin with my first scene when I bit Miss Gulch on the leg. That scene inspired me to take the part. Even Dorothy Gale called Miss Gulch an old witch, so it was my pleasure to imagine biting her after she pursued me with the rake for chasing her old cat. But she couldn’t keep up with my evasive maneuvers. Having trouble remembering that scene? That’s because it occurred off-camera—it got cut. In retrospect, that was probably a good thing because I wanted my character to be well-liked. Let’s move on. 

In retribution, Miss Gulch biked to the Gale’s house with the sheriff’s order to have me destroyed. Dorothy and Auntie Em cried, and that spineless Uncle Henry put me in Miss Gulch’s basket to take me away for good. Did these clever humans really think a basket would keep a wicked smart dog like me contained? Of course, I escaped, which was good practice for later in the movie.

Let’s fast forward. We had the tornado, the house landing on the witch, and the Munchkins. Boy, I liked those little fellers—their voices reminded me of my squeak toys. Grrr! In this part of the movie, the good witch, Glinda, flattered me by asking if I was a witch. I loved my scenes with her. 

Anyway, off we went, me and Dorothy—who I nicknamed Doe-Doe—onto the yellow brick road. Then we came upon the Scarecrow. How could she not see that Scarecrow is Hunk, the ranch hand? Doe-Doe got close to figuring it out when she said, “I feel as if I’ve known you all along, but I couldn’t, could I?” If I had a speaking part, I would have clued her in.

Later, as the five of us—Doe-Doe, Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion, and me—finally got a glimpse of Emerald City, we became ecstatic. We took a shortcut through the poppy field, unaware that the Wicked Witch of the West had put a curse on it. Being closest to the ground, I got poisoned first and passed out. Soldier down. Fortunately, Glinda saved the day and made it snow to break the spell. Whew!

Eventually, we made it to Emerald City and stood before the Wizard. He gave us the impossible task of capturing the witch’s broom. His voice seemed familiar, but my character couldn’t quite place him yet. Undaunted, we pressed on toward the witch’s castle. 

By this time, I was starving. When did I last eat? Think back to the black-and-white part of the film when Doe-Doe ran away. We came upon Professor Marvel, who was roasting hot dogs on the fire. I improvised and snagged the dog right off the stick. I mean, you gotta feed the talent, folks. Fortunately, Doe-Doe followed my lead and said, “Toto, that’s not polite. We haven’t been asked yet.” Good save.

In that part of the filming, I was thinking of my hunger when suddenly, these flying monkey things surrounded us. Before I knew it, I heard Doe-Doe calling my name from up above. Being a dog, looking up is difficult, but I heard her. Then, one of those flying beasts picked me up and took off. Woo-hoo! This was the best part of the movie, man. I was actually flying! But I had to show fear—an actor’s burden.

We ended up inside the castle, where we were going anyway. Thanks for the lift, you strange, flying monkey things. Turned out that Miss Gulch is the Wicked Witch of the West. Who coulda have seen that coming? Anyway, she wanted those ruby slippers so bad that she threatened to drown me as blackmail. Well, I popped right out of the basket and escaped. Hadn’t she learned anything from the first time?

My escape was harrowing. These weird-looking guards chased me, but I eluded them. Then, they corned me on the drawbridge as it lifted. This was my finest moment. I quickly surveyed the situation and then leapt across the moat from the edge of the drawbridge and landed safely below. Bravery in action. 

Next, I found the three bunglers—bag of straw, squeaky man, and the big cat. (By the way, I told the cat that he had better stop wagging his tail, or I would pounce on it like a duck on a june bug.) Anyway, I fearlessly led them back to the imprisoned Doe-Doe in the castle. Using my keen sense of smell and leadership, we found her before the red sand flowed completely through the giant hourglass. Huzzah! You noticed she hugged me first, right? I saved the day earning the heroine moniker. You probably didn’t know I’m a female dog, even though they called me he in the script. No respect.

Unfortunately, the florescent green witch soon discovered us. She set the bag of straw man on fire, so Doe-Doe grabbed a bucket of water to put the fire out. To my way of thinking, she did what anyone with thumbs would do. Big whoop. And then, wait for it, she missed! Most of the water landed on the green, screechy-voiced woman, and the melting ensued. Suddenly, Doe-Doe’s the heroine, we heard a chorus of “All hail, Dorothy.” A-hem. We wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t escaped and brought everyone back. Sheesh.

The Wizard never expected us to get that witch’s broom, but we did, thanks to me. So next, we returned to Emerald City and Oz’s chamber to get our reward. The Wizard gave us the bum’s rush and told us to return tomorrow. Finally, my character had his epiphany and figured out who that booming voice belonged to: Professor Marvel, whose hot dog I had stolen! So, I poked behind the green curtain and revealed the huckster. “Don’t pay any attention to the man behind the curtain,” he said. Too late, buddy—I outed you. 

This big reveal, by moi, created a huge plot turning point. La dee dah, everyone got what they wanted: bag of straw got a diploma, squeaky man got his heart, lion got his courage and a pounce on the tail from me. I told him to stop wagging it. The editor removed that part. Best of all, Doe-Doe would have a way back home in Oz’s hot-air balloon. 

But wait, my character saved the plot one more time. As Doe-Doe, Oz, and I were about to take off toward home in the balloon, I spotted a Siamese cat in the crowd. For the third time, I leaped from a basket. Oz sailed off, admitting he didn’t know the contraption worked. Really? Could someone tell me how he ended up being the wizard of Emerald City? I couldn’t fathom how a dimwitted con man could be in charge of such a great place. Incomprehensible.

My irresistible attraction to cats led Glinda to reappear. Then, we had the “There’s no place like home moment,” followed by click, click, click of the red sparkly shoes. Bingo, bango, bongo, we transported back to the reality of Doe-Doe’s bedroom. 

Our girl woke up and revealed that nearly everyone was in her dream. Did you catch she didn’t mention Uncle Henry? He didn’t make it into the colorful part of the movie. He deserved that for putting me in that first Miss Gulch basket. 

So, a perfect ending, right? Doe-Doe told everyone she loved them and newly appreciated home. I insisted the director have me hop on the bed, and he obliged. He foolishly decided they could end the movie now because everyone was happy.

Wait a cotton-picking minute! Forgive me for mentioning Gone with the Wind, but I’ll never forgive the Oscar Academy for awarding it the Best Picture trophy over us. I suppose “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!” is a better line than “There’s no place like home,” but there was more to our movie than the one line. We had the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow!”

Anyway, back to the ending because this is my essential point. Ask yourself, “What happens to Toto?” I had a death sentence hanging over my head from having bitten the neighbor’s leg. Does anyone think that Miss Gulch won’t come back for me? Holy cow. Screenwriters: have you heard of completing a story arc? Having escaped from three baskets, which pushed the plot forward, I, the true heroine of the story, deserved more. I rescued Dorothy and revealed the fake wizard, but they left my fate hanging.

I attempted to rectify this travesty by giving the screenwriter my notes for an additional scene at the end. In it, I chased Miss Gulch’s old cat into the duck pond. The old woman went ballistic and jumped into the water to save the cat, forgetting that she couldn’t swim, and she drowned. Naturally, the poetic justice appealed to my character since she had ordered my drowning when she was the florescent green woman in the castle. By the way, the cat swam to safety, no harm, no foul.

The screenwriter sympathized with my character but explained the movie was already too long. I needled him about getting my gender wrong. “Can’t you throw me a bone?” I asked. “I’m the movie’s true heroine, and you threw me under the bus.” He shrugged his shoulders and tossed me a leftover hot dog.

That’s my story, folks. Surely, I’ve convinced you I am the true movie heroine. If you’re a ghostwriter, contact my agent to write my memoir, and we’ll set the record straight. So, next time you watch the movie, remember: I'm the real star, and Doe-Doe was just along for the ride. A faithful dog deserves a better ending, don't you think?