Born in the teeth of a gale off the coast of Labrador, shipwrecked at Cape St. Mary’s, Rip as a small pup stowed onto a Portland bound packet.  Giving up the sea, he walked inland with an oar on his back till someone said: “What’s that?”.  So in Twinsburg Ohio he stopped and began his new career as an aftermarket magnate, learning the trade as he did the sea, one rope at a time.  His success assured, he is now devoting most of his time to the destructive testing of rubber toys.  A lover of Conrad, Masefield, and Melville, he has not lost his love of the sea, but rather broadened his interests into the lives of the minor World War One Poets.  A true renaissance dog, he will shortly be Japan bound to study origami and kite making.