Dog Whisperer Shares Power of the Pack

Dog Whisperer Shares Power of the Pack

The Dog Whisperer can do amazing things with any naughty dog, from Pit Bulls to Pekingese. Cesar Millan is the Dog Whisperer whose show airs Monday nights on the National Geographic channel. (Comcast Channel 109 for this area). He is the “Super Nanny” of canines, the enforcer of discipline and acceptable behavior among dogs.

When I caught my first episode of the Dog Whisperer, he was attempting to rehabilitate a service dog from attacking other dogs. The woman who handled the dog suffered a severe form of panic anxiety. Are we surprised? Obviously, a dog that lunges and snarls viciously at others does little for calming nerves and fears. The Dog Whisperer worked his magic, and by the end of the show, the dog performed flawlessly for a service evaluation. What proved most remarkable was how the woman had changed, from cringing wallflower, to assertive, commanding leader.

The Dog Whisperer’s “Power of the Pack” premise showcases how dogs look to their pack leader for guidance and discipline. We humans, if things work as they were intended for domesticated animals, are the supreme commander. But, too often, the little pistol of a Chihuahua will run the household, snapping at ankles and attacking beneath the bedcovers. In one episode, the Dog Whisperer trains two tiny Yorkshire terriers to mind their leader, who just happens to be a policeman. “They’re so little,” said the officer as the Yorkies attacked the vacuum cleaner with a vengeance. “I guess I was afraid of hurting them.”

We have experienced some distasteful behaviors on the part of our four poodles, mainly Honey’s unprovoked barking and Beignet’s pitiful wailing at the back door. Both have since been zapped with the Dog Whisperer’s approach. We nudge them firmly with feet or fingers and make a sound that mimics that of a hissing cobra or a testy mother-in-law. We assume a stance of “calm assertion” that the Dog Whisperer uses when hanging out with his 30-plus pack of dogs. Amazingly, it has helped. Honey now hides from us when she has to bark, and Beignet simply cusses under his breath.

On a recent trip to the veterinarian, we learned that our cat was “morbidly obese.” Actually, we were well aware of the fact that he easily outweighs a toddler. His name is Puffin, but as my dad observed, he now appears to be fully puffed. He and Matilda are a perfect example of how genetics affect weight. We had the cat food in a self-feeder. They shared the same opportunity to eat, the same diet. Matilda, who is older than Puffin, has remained a fit and svelte kitty. Puffin looks like he swallowed a turkey. The vet instructed us to restrict the amount of food available by removing the self-feeder. In the weeks since, Puffin has picketed in the kitchen, demanding the veterinarian’s head on a plate, with a heaping side of tuna.

We love our pets, and it is easy to fall into habits that indulge bad behavior. But, if we truly love them, we will provide them a proper diet, exercise and a safe place to thrive. Our cattle dog, Spottie, is the oldest. He, like Puffin, could stand to lose more than a few pounds. He is getting arthritis and loves to lie down at the food bowl. I want to be a better role model for them, but like Honey hiding while she barks, eating ice cream in the closet isn’t really the best approach.

The message I get from the Dog Whisperer is that we should model the behaviors we want to see in our pets. Healthy actions help us to have healthy bodies, minds and attitudes. It encouraged me to see that even the Dog Whisperer understands that we all need a little scratch on the head or tummy rub, a little positive reinforcement for resisting the call of the wild or that self-feeder we call a refrigerator. Poor Puffin thinks we’ve all gone to the dogs.

“Scratch what you like, I want food!” he spits. Is it any wonder there is no Cat Whisperer?