'Dog Whisperer' sniffs out issue

Millan says he's learned a lot about dogs from watching them in packs.
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Cesar Millan ran across the rain-soaked border into California under cover of darkness 17 years ago, having given his trust and his last $100 to a coyote who crouched in the brush with him for 13 hours until the coast was clear. He was 18 years old, spoke no English and knew no one in America. Now he has his own TV series.
When Millan made a silent vow to become the best dog trainer in the world, he didn't exactly have in mind starring in a half-hour reality-cum-advice show that reaches into more than 50 million American homes. At the time, he was just a high-spirited 13-year-old living with his extended family on a ranch near Culiacan, Mexico, with a natural ability to command packs of dogs. He knew he was different, if only because he enjoyed being with animals more than people. His friends had no goals as clearly defined as Millan's: to go to Hollywood and become a trainer for Rin Tin Tin and Lassie.
That was before Millan fell in love with an American girl who had faith in marriage counseling; before Oprah Winfrey, Phil McGraw, Deepak Chopra and Anthony Robbins became his role models; before he figured out how psychotherapy could be applied to canine management problems; and before he saw how gaga Americans can get over the 62 million to 68 million dogs that share their homes.
His show
Now, "Dog Whisperer With Cesar Millan," which debuted in mid-September, airs on the National Geographic Channel three times a day, five days a week. Each episode features two cases: pooch parents at wit's end confessing to Millan that their child-substitutes are nervous, obsessive, possessive, hyper, hostile or violent.
"She thinks she's people," a woman says of her terrier, providing what she thinks is a cute excuse for monstrous behavior.
"No, she doesn't," Cesar replies.
The dog whisperer understands the problem, all the problems that develop when people anthropomorphize their pets. Speaking slightly accented English without hesitation, he explains that dogs don't think like humans. They're ruled by instinct, not intellect.
Millan is sympathetic to the beleaguered people who seek his counsel, but he also understands the plight of pets that need to get a dog's life, who are never taken on a decent walk yet bear heavy burdens as surrogates for absent families and nonexistent friends and lovers. The subtext of "Dog Whisperer" is that when it comes to our animals, we're all women and men who love too much.
"A dog that receives only affection, affection, affection and doesn't get exercise, rules, boundaries and limitations is unbalanced," Millan says. "And an unbalanced dog is not a happy dog."
Sitting in the dressed-up suburban living room of two well-meaning empty-nesters, facing a portrait of the couple hugging the Dalmatian that rules their home, he listens to their words while sniffing for clues to character.
At first, Millan is more interested in observing the couple than their problem-child because he doesn't train dogs. He rehabilitates animals and trains their owners, teaching the two-legged creatures how to be top dog. Much of what he knows about dogs he learned from observing how they behave in packs.
"We're the only species that follows a spiritual leader," he says. "Dogs don't follow lovable leaders. They follow dominant and calm, assertive leaders. If you put Ghandi and Fidel Castro in front of a pack of dogs, they'll follow Castro because of his energy. There is no knowledge behind instinct. Dogs don't rationalize."
Makes things happen
Whether he's in front of a camera or not, Millan has the bearing of a leader. His gaze is direct, his posture commanding. He's a superb mimic and can snarl, scratch, pant and yip with the best (or worst) of them as he assumes the demeanor of an excited or fearful dog.
The transformations are usually dramatic; when he takes over, bad habits disappear, neuroses vanish. "A lot of times it seems like a miracle," he says. "It isn't a miracle. It's just that the dog lives in the moment and along comes someone with the energy and strategy required to make things happen."
His methods are neither new nor revolutionary. Generations of American dogs have been trained following the advice of the monks of New Skete, a small religious order in upstate New York that raises German shepherds. In their thick volume, "How to Be Your Dog's Best Friend: The Classic Training Manual for Dog Owners," the monks recommend that a human alpha leader be a disciplinarian. Millan has streamlined his similar message so effectively for TV that the concepts are easy to grasp. "In every show, there is a lightbulb moment," says co-executive producer Jim Milio of MPH Entertainment. "People will say, 'Oh, my God! I'm treating my dog like my kid.'"