Cesar Millan Talks in Toronto



“It’s not about the dog. It’s always about us. It’s always about the owner. It’s up to us to create an environment and circumstances in which the dog can thrive and be itself.”

— Dog Whisperer Cesar Milla

Why? The man admitted he does housework.

To salsa music.

“Yes, it’s a very good way to incorporate a workout and get the cleaning done at the same time,” says Millan during a recent visit to Canada — his third in as many months — while demonstrating how to clean with a floor mop.

Back and forth he mopped, corners, too, two dogs underfoot — his own beloved Junior and photographer Mark O’Neill’s Mattie, who looked a little bemused by all the commotion. The idea was to watch the dogs’ reactions to the mop’s actions.

Some dogs freak out, and let’s not get started about when the vaccum cleaner comes out.

Back and forth that mop goes, with Cesar continuing on about his life, his disciplines — a good breakfast every morning “with a touch of hot sauce on my egg whites” — and I’m getting hot under the collar watching his razor perfect posture with a natural dancer’s pace push that mop, a slight swing in his slim hips, his face an open book of sheer joy, molten brown eyes and the brightest smile.

The Dog Whisperer admits to a touch of domesticity and a jones for clean floors.

“I run with a pack of dogs but there are no dog hairs or slobber in my home,” says Millan with a touch of pride. “I enjoy cleaning and I love the results.”

At age 41, Millan is at the top of an empire that includes the top-rated Dog Whisperer National Geographic TV series, a bestselling author of a plethora of books on dog training, the founder of the Dog Psychology Center in Los Angeles, head of the non-profit Millan Foundation dedicated to helping animal shelters and rescue groups and spokesman for Swiffer cleaning products (go figure).

He’s in great demand with stars and personalities and he’s a regular on the TV talk show circuit.

He’s also guest-starred as himself on everything from Ghost Whisperer to Bones, where the storyline had him helping the lead characters figure out if a spot had been used for dog fighting.

Millan was even gently mocked on a hilarious episode of South Park when his character was hired by Eric Cartman’s mother to train the unruly boy, which he did. Just the mention of this show brought out the famous Millan grin.

And he’s the first to admit, “I don’t whisper to dogs,” rather he instinctively tunes into the dog with an “assertive yet calm” manner — and quickly zeroes into whatever it is that ails it. The key is in remaining calm and leading by example, says Millan, who has worked with a small army of animal behaviorists, academics, veterinarians and plain pet lovers to help find the answers to the most elusive dog issues.

Everything from simple socialization problems to dogs who face being euthanized because the owners were at the end of their leash — Millan’s the man, always going back to the relationship between man and pet, and it’s where his ultimate answer is: “I rehabilitate dogs — I train people.

“People don’t usually seek me out when their dog won’t sit on command — they ask me for help when their dog is destroying their life.”

And he won’t stop until he gets the answers — and gets inside the dog’s head — to help bring a successful conclusion to the problems at hand. There have been episodes where Millan has been moved to tears over the fate of some of the most difficult cases he’s faced — but he faces them, deals with them, and goes forward.

From tiny, mouthy dogs with big attitudes to huge dogs who can’t leave their front porch.

Millan comes by his gift of communing with pooches naturally.

Born in Sinaloa, Mexico, he grew up working with animals on his grandfather’s farm. He was known as El nino perro — the dog boy — because of his eerie connection with the animals.

By the age of 13 he told his mother he would one day be the best dog trainer in the world.

But it didn’t come easily and included crossing into the U.S. illegally when he was 21, speaking no English, bereft of contacts or friends and struggling to make ends meet.

He first worked in a dog grooming store, dealing with the most aggressive dogs — and it was actor Jada Pinkett Smith who was credited in giving him a big helping hand, and becoming his first client and most ardent supporter. Subsequently, Millan created the Dog Psychology Center in South Los Angeles, specializing in working with large breed dogs.

To this day, anyone can contact him for help. “Sure, I go where the problems are,” says Millan, who even Facebook’s regularly — you can read about his recent trip to Toronto on his page.

Success hasn’t come without the usual pitfalls — a 17-year-marriage that dissolved last year — “I’m a single dad now with two kids ... the challenges are there.”

That and detractors who have taken to the Internet to give voice to their concerns about his particular type of dog training. It’s not pretty.

Millan just shrugs and turns to his dog Junior, a pit-bull type of dog with the silkiest fur and the sweetest eyes. Millan bundles him onto his lap and hugs. “Look at this face,” he says gently, rubbing noses with his pooch.

“This is one happy dog