Louis Franklin Arnold, proprietor of the legendary Three-Legged Dog Saloon, trickster to his core, died on Aug 28, 2026. He was overcome, as he put it, by "an accumulation of too much fun."

Born May 4, 1947, adopted as the only child of Mary Twelves and Franklin Arnold, he grew up in Salt Lake City digging holes through four foot snow drifts, crashing his sled on the 9th South hill, aggravating teachers, riding his bike down Parleys Canyon, and sending snakes home to his mother over summer break from Camp Roger.

He relished the reactions of students and teachers as he growled up to East High on a motorcycle. Leather jacketed, broad shouldered, a misfit, a joker, a protector. He was a kid built like a grown man who became a grown man with a little rascal's heart and a showman's sense of humor. He was a genius at making a small gesture a big deal - like that time he ate a policeman's ham sandwich after he was arrested for speeding.

The Fort Douglas commanders deemed Lou's bad feet unfit for military service until LBJ ramped up the war. Lined up like Arlo Guthrie in the draft scene of "Alice's Restaurant," Lou was given a revised physical and shipped to Vietnam. He drove a "Goer," a massive amphibious vehicle, to resupply the frontlines of the central highlands and southern jungles. His favorite weekends were spent with the family of a South Vietnamese soldier. The few war stories he eventually shared were irreverent, off-color, but at their core, about recognizing the humanity in others, even of so-called enemies.

Stateside, he moved to Utah's Uinta Basin where he opened his saloon in Myton, and ran it with his wife Kathleen. He had named it after his three-legged German Shepherd, Sidney, who guarded their daughter, Mary.

After learning from an oilhand about the Texas tradition of celebrating the defeat of the Confederacy, Lou held a Juneteenth celebration in 1981. He sent Santas to the school in a pinch and donated Wyoming fireworks to Myton's yearly festivals. Perhaps not every activity that took place at the saloon was quite legal, like that time Lou sold tickets to watch a friend who bragged he could catch a turkey naked with one arm tied behind his back. (He did).

The saloon was a rollicking pin-ball, pool table, pithy-sayings-on-the-wall kind of place where, as the official Three-Legged Dog t-shirt made clear, anything was possible: "revolutions started assassinations plotted women carefully seduced tigers castrated your whiskey drank." And everyone was welcome: "rednecks, oilfield trash, hippies and bikers." In actuality, the bar was more than that. It mixed flamboyant gays, conservative farmers, flying postmen, mountain men, lawyers, Utes, jackmormons, foreigners and other extravagant, wonderful weirdos from across the world.

Our country doesn't always feel united like our name suggests, but in a few unlikely places, for a few precious years, we do rub shoulders. And it takes tricksters like Lou to make it happen.

The only type of person he had no patience for were those who abused their power. His lip curled into a snarl for idiotic generals, elders and presidents. So perhaps it should be no surprise that he had a lawsuit that went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

As Lou told it, when the local political establishment felt threatened by his run for Duchesne County Commissioner, a not-so-well-disguised undercover agent showed up asking to purchase a stolen gun. Naturally Lou agreed but proceeded to sell a legal one. Even though the county figured out his ruse, they arrested him for illegal arms selling, anyway. The county attorney threw out the charges but Lou's suit for damages from the false arrest wound its way through state and federal courts. The highest court in all the land upheld a decision in his favor. It was a small but important victory for civil rights, and our god-given right to play practical jokes on the government.

Lou's love for strong spirits included strong women. After their divorce, Kathleen became the mayor of Myton. His second wife, Helen, was the dance critic and editor for the Salt Lake Tribune, and they adopted a daughter, Piper. Lou drove Helen to assignments and he ended up taking on yet another life as an arts-loving ballet aficionado. If you were lucky enough to be at one of his parties on Murphy's Lane, you'd likely find yourself sitting with a biker, a queen, a cop, an art collector and a newspaper editor. He spent his sixties volunteering for the Utah AIDS Foundation and delivering meals he cooked to those in need.

Lou was an audacious, caring father and grandfather who pushed his family to make waves. He was a single parent for years before he married Helen, and instilled both daughters and grandchildren with the important advice: do anything you want in life, but if it's stupid, don't get caught. He relished riling up his grandchildren and overexaggerated about everything they or their parents did to anybody who would listen.

Lou was preceded in death by his parents, his wife, Helen Forsberg, and many friends. He is survived by his daughters Mary "Miah" Arnold (Raj Mankad) and Piper Arnold, his grandchildren Lila and Vishwa, his cousins John and Clark Arnold, and his friend and former wife Kathleen Cooper. A donor and later a recipient of a kidney transplant, he cheated death too many times to count. Finally, as he put it, old age kicked his a**. Nobody was ready, and he will be sorely missed.

In lieu of flowers send stories about him to mrlouarnold@gmail.com and/or make donations to Ruff Haven, the ACLU, or the Salt Lake Tribune, which he read cover to cover most of his life. A memorial and wake will be held Nov. 28, 2026 from 5 - 8 pm, at the Blackheart Social Club. RSVPs to his email appreciated but not required.

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Published by Uintah Basin Standard from Sep. 16 to Sep. 23, 2026.

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/ubstandard/name/louis-arnold-obituary?id=62437700