Curly from The Three Stooges: The Comedian Who Quietly Rescued 5,000 Dogs

Curly from The Three Stooges: The Comedian Who Quietly Rescued 5,000 Dogs

Long before animal rescue became a social media movement or a celebrity trend, one of Hollywood’s most beloved comedic legends was already walking the walk—quite literally—with a trail of wagging tails behind him. Jerome Horwitz, known to the world as Curly from The Three Stooges, wasn’t just the man behind the slapstick laughs. He was a quiet, consistent hero for animals—particularly dogs—long before it was fashionable to be one.

Curly’s love for dogs ran so deep that he had it written into his contract with Columbia Pictures: he was allowed to bring his dogs to the studio lot. Though Columbia limited the number to no more than two dogs at a time—a decision made after a few spontaneous canine cameos in early short films—it was clear that Curly wasn’t going anywhere without his furry companions. Watch closely, and you’ll still catch glimpses of his dogs making surprise appearances on screen, unaware they were part of a comedy routine.

But Curly’s kindness extended far beyond the studio gates. He had a habit of bringing home stray dogs—sometimes several at a time. These weren’t temporary indulgences. He would foster them, care for them, and make it his mission to find each of them a loving, permanent home. His heart simply wouldn’t allow him to walk past an animal in need.

Even on the road, during The Three Stooges’ whirlwind tours, Curly stayed true to his purpose. In every town they visited, he made it a goal to rescue at least one stray dog. His fellow cast and crew often joked that Curly never came home empty-handed—but in truth, they admired his dedication. It wasn’t part of any show. It wasn’t a role. It was who he was.

By the time his life came to a close, Curly was estimated to have saved over 5,000 dogs. That’s not a typo. Five thousand lives, spared from the streets or shelters, given a second chance, all because a kind-hearted man in a bowler hat believed they deserved better. No fanfare. No headlines. Just a deep belief that dogs are family.

In an industry known for make-believe, Curly’s compassion was stunningly real. He was a man ahead of his time—long before widespread rescue networks, no-kill shelters, or Instagram campaigns. What he did wasn’t just admirable; it was revolutionary for its era. Quietly, gently, he used his fame not just to entertain—but to uplift the most voiceless among us.

So the next time you laugh at one of Curly’s wild antics on screen, remember this: behind every pratfall and punchline was a man with a soft spot bigger than his fame. A true rescuer, a relentless advocate, and a reminder that sometimes the funniest people have the biggest hearts.