by Cesar Millan
It was of great personal significance for me to adopt a pit bull puppy as a role model, to be right by my side as I work to rehabilitate unstable dogs. The bad rap that pit bulls get here in the United States is, to my thinking, a crime. First of all, pit bulls are dogs first. They’re not wild animals; they’re domestic dogs like any other domestic dog. Of course, pit bulls are not always the right dogs for every family—but in blaming pit bulls as a breed for all those horrendous incidents we read about in the news, we’re forgetting the basic fact that we humans have created the very characteristics we vilify in pit bulls, simply to fill our own needs. We are responsible for them. Over the centuries, we have genetically engineered these dogs to have strong jaws, relentless staying power, and a high tolerance for discomfort or pain. Those are the plain, unvarnished facts of their DNA. But even in the dog world, DNA isn’t destiny. Pit bulls are not born aggressive to dogs or to people—we make them that way. Hundreds of thousands of pit bulls languish in kennels and shelters across the United States because they were originally conditioned by their owners to be “tough,” but then they became too much for their owners to handle. Many of those dogs, destined for euthanasia, were bred to fight in the illegal dog-fighting culture, then abandoned on the streets when they didn’t prove profitable for their hard-hearted owners. Properly socialized and raised with the same consistent rules, boundaries, and limitations that their natural pack would instill in them, it’s been my experience that pit bulls make the most amazing pets.
The very pit bull attributes so often maligned by society can actually be rechanneled into the most positive outlets. For instance, the inborn characteristics of determination and staying power can be transformed into unwavering loyalty and patience. A balanced pit bull has the ability to wait calmly and respectfully for long periods of time, until its owner gives it a new command or direction to follow. With children or smaller puppies, pit bulls can be the epitome of the indulgent babysitter, because their bodies are built to easily withstand the climbing, pushing, and pulling that playful juveniles of both species can inflict. A well-socialized, balanced pit bull will put up with all sorts of childish antics and show stoicism and good humor. I am raising Junior to be much more “dog” than “pit bull,” and between him and my senior pit bull, Daddy, I believe I can change the mind of anybody who harbors blind prejudice against the breed.
Any reader who has watched my television program is probably familiar with the soulful green eyes and stocky, golden body of my faithful companion, Daddy. At nearly sixteen years of age, Daddy has experienced everything a modern dog could possibly dream of—traveling all over the United States with me and even walking the red carpet at the Emmys. Daddy’s original owner, the rapper Redman, sought out my help in raising Daddy when he was still a playful puppy just four months of age. It was absolutely the most perfect time to start shaping his young mind. Daddy was an eager and receptive pupil to both dogs and humans, and he has grown up to be the best, most positive role model imaginable for his much-maligned breed. He now has his own legion of fans and even has his own Facebook page! He definitely deserves his brilliant reputation. Today Daddy officially belongs to me. He and I share a bond that goes beyond anything nature or science can explain. I believe we have achieved a kind of ideal communion between human and dog, one that I like to use as an example to my clients to prove to them that this kind of healthy closeness with their pet is something very real and within their reach as well.
On dozens of Dog Whisperer episodes, when I’m called in to help unstable dogs, Daddy has unquestionably earned his props as my right-hand canine. More often than not, however, he’s also my teacher, and I end up following his lead on how to proceed, not the other way around. Daddy possesses that rare quality that you can’t get without a lot of experience and a lot of years on this planet—genuine wisdom. Because his energy is so completely balanced, sometimes just being in the presence of Daddy will turn a troubled dog around. On other occasions, if I’m not sure of how to proceed on a case, I’ll bring Daddy in and closely observe his behavior. One of the most important points I’ve made in all my teachings—and that I particularly want to stress when it comes to raising puppies—is that a balanced adult dog can teach you more about “dog training” than any book, manual, or video. Daddy doesn’t have any diplomas or certificates on the wall of his kennel, but he is the absolute master of dog rehabilitation, as far as I’m concerned.
As a senior dog, Daddy still takes the same delight in the small moments of life that he took as a puppy, but his advancing years are clearly catching up with him physically. I have recently begun to grapple with the reality that he won’t be able to play the role of my best pal, sidekick, and co-Dog Whisperer forever. I’ve heard some dog lovers who, when considering the demise of a lifelong companion, make statements like “There will never be another one like him” or “I could never love another dog, because no other dog could be as wonderful.” Of course it’s true that there will never be another dog exactly like Daddy, but when I called this book How to Raise the Perfect Dog, I wasn’t being glib. I really do believe it’s possible to raise another dog to be as balanced, stable, well behaved, and as perfectly in sync with me as Daddy has been. I had a plan—Daddy himself was going to pass the baton of his greatness to the next generation—by helping me raise his ideal successor!
PASSING THE BATON
A longtime friend of mine, a vet tech who also happens to be from my home state of Sinaloa, Mexico, understands and agrees with my philosophies about raising dogs and also owns a female pit bull that I know to be calm and balanced—an easygoing family dog that had always been a dream “nanny” to his own small children. My friend informed me that he had selectively bred this dog and that she had a new litter of puppies. Knowing of Daddy’s impending retirement and my growing concerns about it, he invited me to come take a look at them, saying, “Who knows, you might find the next Daddy.”
When Daddy and I arrived at my friend’s house to see the litter, I was relieved to find the bitch just as affectionate, gentle, and submissive with human kids as I had remembered. She had the ideal temperament for a family dog and was also an active, alert, and attentive mother to her pups. The temperament of a pup’s parents is vital, because temperament is a characteristic often passed down from generation to generation. My friend showed me a photo of the puppies’ father—also a well-bred, healthy pit bull, as well as a prize show dog. Though I couldn’t meet the sire in person because he was already back in his home state, I know that show dogs by definition need to have a degree of self-control, patience, and stability above and beyond that of the average household pet. As I looked over the litter of cuddly, clumsy eight-week-old puppies, one dog immediately caught my eye. He was all gray with a little white on his chest, and he had the most gentle powder blue eyes. He was what is known as a blue pit. But what attracted me most to him was his energy. Though he didn’t resemble Daddy at all physically, his serene demeanor reminded me of him instantly.
I was immediately drawn to this particular pup, but in this case I wasn’t the most experienced dog whisperer in the room. This was a job for Daddy. Any dog can tell you much more about another animal—dog, cat, or human!—than a human can, which is why I always take my dogs’ instincts very seriously. In fact, I frequently bring Daddy or another of my most balanced dogs with me to business meetings, to see how the dogs respond to any people I am meeting for the first time. If one of my easygoing, calm-submissive dogs inexplicably shrinks away from, ignores, or otherwise avoids a certain person, I always pay close attention. My dog may be trying to tell me something I need to know.
I escorted Daddy into the room full of playful pit bull puppies—a dignified elder statesman making an appearance in a boisterous kindergarten class. I had noticed one of the puppies acting a little dominant around the children in the family—climbing on them and mouthing them—so I tried introducing him to Daddy. Daddy immediately growled at him and turned away. At Daddy’s age, he hasn’t
got the energy or patience for ill-mannered, pushy youngsters. Another pup I picked out—a lower-energy fellow—didn’t interest Daddy at all; he totally ignored him. Older dogs don’t waste their precious energy on puppies that annoy them. But how would Daddy react to the gray pup that had so attracted me? I was praying that our energies and instincts would be on the same wavelength for this very important decision.
I gently lifted the little gray guy up by his scruff and presented his rear to Daddy, who showed immediate interest. He checked the puppy out by sniffing, then signaled with his head for me to put him down on the ground. When I lowered the puppy, the little guy automatically bowed his head in a very polite, submissive way to Daddy. It was clear that at only eight weeks of age, his mother had already taught him the basics of canine etiquette—respect for your elders. Daddy continued to smell him, and it was obvious there was an attraction there. But the most wonderful thing happened next! When Daddy finished checking the puppy out and began to walk away, the puppy immediately started to follow him. From that very first moment, I was certain that this little gray bundle of fur was going to be Daddy’s spiritual “son.” And America would soon have a new, calm, well-behaved pit bull role model to look up to.
HOW NOT TO RAISE MARLEY
Blizzard, the Labrador Retriever
John Grogan’s Marley and Me was on the New York Times bestseller list for fifty-four weeks, then was adapted into a feature film that grossed more than $215 million worldwide. It even spawned a sequel named (much to my chagrin as Dog Whisperer!) Bad Dogs Have More Fun. Through Grogan’s heartfelt, evocative writing, Marley has become the symbol of one of the most popular family pet breeds in America, the Labrador retriever. Labradors are the number one pet dog in America because of their friendliness, energy, and happy-go-lucky demeanor, and Marley epitomized that same goofy, exuberant, bouncy behavior. But Marley took that behavior too far, to the point of being out of control. “Marley,” writes John Grogan, “was a challenging student, dense, wild, constantly distracted, a victim of his boundless nervous energy. … As my father put it shortly after Marley attempted marital relations with his knee, ‘That dog’s got a screw loose.’”
Marley became the inspiration for me to adopt a yellow Lab as the second dog whose puppyhood I would chronicle for this book. As much as I laughed and cried reading John Grogan’s memoir of Marley, and as much as I appreciated having the chance to work with the Grogan family and their current Lab, Gracie, I wanted to offer a different perspective on the life of a Labrador retriever. In other words, I wanted to write the chapter on how not to raise the next Marley.
I turned to Crystal Reel, the intrepid researcher at our Dog Whisperer production company, MPH Entertainment, to help me find the perfect Labrador puppy. Though there are plenty of Labrador breeders in Southern California, we decided to show our support for one of our area’s excellent rescue groups that save the lives of lost, abandoned, and rejected dogs every day. Crystal contacted Southern California Labrador Retriever Rescue, an eleven-year-old nonprofit organization dedicated to the mission of rehabilitating and rehoming Labrador retrievers and educating the public about these wonderful dogs. Over several weeks, Crystal coordinated with SCLRR volunteer Geneva Ledesma, screening several potential puppies available for adoption. We finally narrowed the search down to two dogs, and Geneva and her fellow volunteer, Valerie Dorsch, agreed to bring both dogs to meet me at the original Dog Psychology Center in downtown Los Angeles.
The month of October can still feel like summertime in Southern California, but there was a morning breeze easing away the heat as I slid open the gates to my downtown Dog Psychology Center, revealing the two Labrador puppy candidates from which I would choose my Marley. Geneva and Valerie each held the leash of one of the rescues. The first, a sleek and solid black Labrador pup, had been picked up as a stray running loose in a field. The other, yellow like the Marley of literary fame, had been dropped off at a shelter with a couple of his litter-mates. Both were male, around two months old, and both were incredibly cute. Both had also just finished with their second set of shots, so their medical histories were in order, despite the fact that they were rescued off the street.
Since my goal for this project was prevention, not intervention, I wanted to choose a puppy with a naturally calm-submissive demeanor and raise him to remain that way, so he could become the perfect family dog. It took only seconds for me to determine that the yellow Lab was the right guy. He sniffed around a little, slightly curious, then sat back on his haunches and relaxed. Within a few minutes, he was stretching his body out on the sun-warmed pavement. The black Lab, on the other hand, was already acting a little skittish, nervous, and overexcited. His body was turned away from us and he was pulling back on the leash, holding himself slightly back. Now, I could easily work with him and rehabilitate that state. But I wanted to do something different for this book—I wanted to use the natural balance Mother Nature has already programmed into dogs and show you, my readers, how to nurture and maintain that state.
Both Valerie and Geneva were shocked that I chose the yellow Lab, because they thought I’d be attracted to the more “active” puppy. “I thought the yellow puppy was lazy,” Valerie commented. Despite being experienced “dog people,” they were not able to discern nervous energy from playful energy. Once I pointed out the indications of the black Lab’s anxious energy, Geneva began to see what I was talking about. “Can I ask you, how do they become like this?” she queried tentatively. “Are they born this way?” I told her that sometimes scary early puppyhood experiences can make a dog unsure, especially if he doesn’t have an attentive mother or a pack leader to guide him through the experience the right way. A normal dog is a curious dog, even if he is a little tentative at first. When you see extremely fearful, shrinking behavior from the beginning, that’s a potential red flag.
Some puppies are born weak or scared, the proverbial “runts of the litter,” and the brutal truth is, in a natural habitat, those puppies probably wouldn’t make it. As humans, we tend to feel bad about them. But we have to learn to help them overcome that state of mind. Otherwise, we will keep them that way, by feeling bad about them. It’s a wonderful thing to rescue dogs that have become lost in the physical world, but we also need to learn how to rescue them from their fearful psychological worlds. No dog should have to live his whole life in fear. And that kind of rehabilitation starts with our own calm-assertive energy. It’s easy to go running up to a nervous puppy and, in a high voice, cry out, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetie, it’s all right!” We think by showering them with what we define as love, affection, and comfort, we can help them. But for a nervous puppy, an approach like that will only intensify his anxiety or excitement. I showed the ladies how to use scent to distract the black pup’s nose, to help release his brain from being “locked” into that negative, nervous state. I passed a can of organic dog food just in front of him, without invading his space. Just a whiff of the food and the little guy perked up, then sat back on his haunches. His ears relaxed. I didn’t use words. I didn’t use petting. By remaining calm, strong, and silent but engaging his strongest sense—smell—I was able to snap him out of his anxious state of mind.
“The truth is,” I continued, “this yellow guy, in the hands of an owner who doesn’t give rules or gives only affection, affection, affection, could easily become overexcited or anxious or nervous, too. My goal is to nurture his beautiful, natural state for the first eight months of his life. Because by eight months, that’s it. Puppyhood is done. At eight months, they hit adolescence, so they begin to challenge, but if they are raised with rules, boundaries, and limitations, they will always know how to go back to balance.”
While I had been chatting with the ladies from Southern California Labrador Retreiver Rescue, my little Marley had become so relaxed, the sun had lulled him into a deep, peaceful sleep. I reached for my can of dog food again. “With puppies, sometimes we can create a nervous or spooked reaction from them if we startle them w
hile they are sleeping,” I explained. I waved the can of dog food under his nose, but he didn’t wake up until he sensed the black Lab nudging his way over to get a sniff at the food as well. “See how he was not shocked or surprised when he awoke?” I pointed out. “It’s a normal behavior among puppies, with their littermates, to nudge one another, step on one another, wake one another up. So I’m triggering the brain to wake up in a familiar way, not a startling way, since my hand is not familiar to him yet.”
Having made my choice, I was ready to introduce the new puppy into the pack. But with puppies, every first impression is important, so I had to do it right the first time. Attracted by the food, the mini Marley happily followed me toward the inner area of the Dog Psychology Center, to the fence behind which the pack eagerly awaited their newest and youngest member. He sniffed the fence cautiously, then his tail started to wag. If he had been too excited or too bold, the pack would have perceived it as a negative, but the little guy kept his head held low, in a respectful manner. He was ready.
A quick note here about puppy health and safety (which we’ll consider in more depth in future chapters). Before introducing the new Labrador puppy to my pack, the ladies from SCLRR and I had to be sure that the health of the puppy and the health of my other dogs were being protected. The SCLRR volunteers first made sure that both puppies had clean bills of health and had their first two rounds of shots. Even with shots, however, a pup’s immune system is still developing until four months of age, and it is during these crucial months that he is still susceptible to diseases, particularly the parvovirus. Parvo is passed through the feces of infected dogs. Therefore, before SCLRR would sign off on allowing whichever puppy I chose to interact with my dogs, SCLRR wanted me to verify that all the dogs at the Dog Psychology Center were also up-to-date on their immunizations, that our facility was sanitary, and that we had not had any recent outbreaks of parvo or other contagious diseases. Once the SCLRR volunteers were sure of this, they okayed the Labrador to be with my dogs. In this case, there were two parties—the rescuers and the new adoptive owner—looking out for the puppy’s health and welfare. We must be responsibly cautious during this window of a puppy’s life, while his immune system is still developing, but at the same time, we can’t deprive him of normal socialization experiences, which are equally as important to his overall well-being.
