Lucky Dog Lessons

by Brandon McMillan

  DEDICATION

  To the millions of shelter dogs who never made it out.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Introduction

  PART ONE Getting to Know Your Dog 1 What Makes Your Dog Different?

  2 Trust Is the Foundation

  3 Training Basics

  PART TWO The 7 Common Commands 4 SIT

  5 DOWN

  6 STAY

  7 NO

  8 OFF

  9 COME

  10 HEEL

  PART THREE Cures for 7 Kinds of Behavior Issues 11 Housebreaking and Indoor Marking

  12 Door Dashing

  13 Chewing

  14 Barking

  15 Digging and Escaping from the Yard

  16 Mealtime Mischief

  17 Separation Anxiety (A 7-Day Start)

  18 Aggression (Not a 7-Day Project!)

  Conclusion: 7 Last Lessons

  Acknowledgments

  Index

  About the Author

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  INTRODUCTION

  I was in a pub a few years ago and told the bartender what I do for a living—and then he asked me to leave because he thought I was drunk. The funny thing is, I hadn’t had a single sip of alcohol. I shouldn’t have been surprised, because when I tell people about my background, they often think I’m lying. I guess training lions and tigers, working with grizzly bears, tagging crocodiles, catching venomous snakes for antivenin, and diving with eighteen-foot great whites for research isn’t a standard answer to “What do you do?” But it’s always been my reality.

  My childhood was unlike that of any other kid I’ve ever met (except for my siblings), and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It is because I grew up in the constant presence of animals that I learned to be in tune with their feelings and needs. That unusual connection is what brought me to the career and the personal mission that define my life today.

  My parents were wild-animal trainers, and I grew up training elephants, tigers, bears, primates, and other animals for the circus, television, movies, commercials, and even magic shows. I can’t remember a time in my life when working with animals wasn’t a big part of who I was and what I was doing. Remember the tiger in The Hangover? I raised her from birth and trained her. Same with the animals in The Jungle Book, We Bought a Zoo, I Am Sam, Jackass, 24, Mike & Molly, a few other TV shows, and a hundred or so commercials and music videos. I’ve trained tigers to do fake attacks, trained dogs for Super Bowl commercials, and even trained cockroaches for a Nine Inch Nails video (yes, even cockroaches can be trained). In my career so far, I’ve worked on more than three hundred Hollywood productions in more than thirty countries. I’ve continued to study animal training everyplace I go, learning something new from every country and culture.

  And did I mention that over the years I’ve trained thousands of dogs of all different breeds and sizes? After I earned a solid reputation on film sets, some of the talent on productions even started asking me to work with the pets in their homes. I’ve trained dogs for hundreds of private clients, including Ellen DeGeneres, Andy Cohen, Rod Stewart, James Caan, Chris Hardwick, Wolfgang Puck, Hugh Hefner, Don Cheadle, Snoop Dogg, Eddie Murphy, Jaime Pressly, and Ronda Rousey.

  Knowing I could train a dog to do just about anything, I wanted to utilize my ability for something I felt was bigger than any Hollywood production. After having the powerful and unforgettable experience of training a mobility-assistance dog for a wounded warrior who lost both legs to an improvised explosive device (IED) in Afghanistan, I started the Argus Service Dog Foundation. Watching this heroic marine and his dog bonding and helping each other inspired me to want to do more. Through the foundation, I’m able to train dogs to perform complex tasks like retrieving objects, supporting handlers with balance problems, opening doors, turning on light switches, and even coping with post-traumatic stress disorder—and then I have the honor of providing those dogs to disabled veterans.

  But let me back up a little bit to how dogs in particular became such an important part of my life. When I was twenty-two, I had a life-changing experience: I read the statistics on shelter dogs in America and learned that every year in the United States alone, over 1,000,000 dogs are euthanized because they can’t find homes. That’s one million. That’s a lot of dogs. And they’re not dying in some far-off place we’ve never heard of; it’s happening right here in our own cities and suburbs. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, and ever since I caught on to that statistic, I’ve dedicated more and more of my life to rescuing unwanted dogs who stood no chance of finding homes and to proving they’re just as trainable, if not more so, than breeder-bought dogs.

  Back then, I was working for a Hollywood company that trained animals for film and television. We were a successful old-school company, and my boss had always worked mainly with breeder-bought dogs with known bloodlines. He believed that knowing everything about the dogs from birth made them better dogs to train. But my view was a little different. At the time, I lived in an apartment where I could see the yard of a local animal shelter. Every day after working with my company’s stable of purebred dogs, I’d go home and look out my window and see some of the same breeds—German shepherds, rottweilers, Chihuahuas, pit bulls, and others—at the shelter. At first I was annoyed by the never-ending barking, but after reading the stats on shelter dog deaths, I came to the sickening realization that those dogs were living on borrowed time. Many were destined to end up among the million. The knowledge ate at me and inspired me to take action. My plan was simple, even if it was a little ambitious. I’d rescue dogs who stood no chance of finding a home and turn them into movie stars. I went to my boss and asked if I could rescue one dog to train for the business. After a debate, which turned into an argument, he agreed on one condition: my job was on the line if I failed.

  The next day I went to a shelter in LA that had one of the highest mortality rates in the Southwest. This was the Shawshank of shelters, a cold and outdated facility that had seen its funding stripped away by city budget cuts. It was bursting at the seams with dogs, and animals there had a greater chance of getting euthanized than of finding homes.

  As I made my way down the row of kennels, I spotted a young rottweiler named Raven. She seemed sweet, had a good attention span, and was more interested in me than in all the distractions around her. I adopted her out of the shelter that day and took her home.

  Raven had a few issues to work out, but after a couple of months of intensive training, she went on her first job, a music video for OutKast. Raven knocked it out of the park. The director told me my dog performed better than the humans did that day. After that, Raven went on to become the most-booked dog in the company. I didn’t just get to keep my job; I got a green light to grow the company’s pack with more shelter dogs.

  Like Raven, my new rescues also went on to become obedience scholars, proving that shelter dogs aren’t damaged goods. They are hidden treasures with an ocean of untapped intelligence and loyalty. From then on, everything changed for me. I advocated for rescue dogs for every job, and I also started helping people find shelter dogs who would be good matches for their families, then training the dogs specifically to meet the needs of their new homes.

  In 2011, I opened a boarding and training ranch just outside Los Angeles. I used the facility to train dogs for my service dog foundation, for movies and commercials, and for private clients. In addition, I kept a small pack of dogs I called my death-row dogs, animals I had rescued from shelters and brought home to rehabilitate, train, and place in homes. It was a labor of love, and I had a network of thousands of people on social media who were helping me with placement.

  That smal
l, private rescue operation caught the attention of a Hollywood production company. They were looking for an animal-themed show to round out a new CBS Saturday-morning lineup, and because some of the producers were rescue advocates themselves, they were fans of the work I was doing and wanted to see it firsthand.

  I invited the producers out to visit the ranch for a few hours, and their stay extended to a few days and then a few weeks. The team decided to go with me to a city shelter to save a dog’s life and document the process that followed. We all knew we might be able to do a lot of good with a program based on a rescue as it happened. That first dog’s name was Bruno, and he was a wildly out-of-control terrier mix. I brought him to the ranch and started out by cleaning him up, evaluating his knowledge, and realizing he’d had no previous training at all. The production group observed Bruno’s basic obedience lessons, and after a week, this dog had mastered the 7 Common Commands—plus an extra one.

  Bruno was such an energetic, charismatic dog that I also taught him to dance. He’d stand up on his hind legs and spin in circles on command. The producers couldn’t believe it. This dog who’d been close to execution, who didn’t even know what SIT meant when we met him, took to the DANCE command with so much joy they laughed until their stomachs hurt.

  A few days after his training was complete, Bruno went to his forever home with a middle-aged couple in West LA—a home where he’s still living his happily-ever-after today. For me, it was a continuation of my mission. But it was a bittersweet ending to Bruno’s story for the producers who’d witnessed the process. One of them commented, “That dog’s future was hopeless. You saved his life and found him a home.”

  My response was, “That’s my mission . . . one dog at a time.”

  Little did we know we’d just created a tagline we’d be using for years to come: From hopeless to a home, that’s my mission . . . one dog at a time. The next day, the production team called to tell me they wanted to share the stories of my rescued and rehabilitated dogs on a new television series. They wanted to call it Lucky Dog™. Every episode would be the story of a second chance and a reminder of a very basic premise we all believed in: no dog is a lost cause; each one deserves a chance.

  My biggest limitation in accomplishing my mission of saving shelter dogs comes down to simple math: I can train only so many of them at once. At the end of every Lucky Dog episode, I wish I could say “a thousand dogs at a time.” I hope this book will be the next step in making that happen—that it will enable and empower other people to train rescued dogs.

  So many books make dog training seem harder than it needs to be—as though you need a degree to teach a dog to SIT. But here’s the truth: if you just spend a few fifteen-minute sessions a day, in seven days your dog can go from a blank slate—or even one with a few flaws—to a Lucky Dog graduate.

  My methods are easy because I know what works and what doesn’t. I’ve had a lot of years to figure out the quickest way from point A to point B. After training with some of the best dog trainers in the world and teaching thousands of dogs—from pampered pooches to death-row rescues—I want to share what I’ve learned. I’ll start with the basics: trust and bonding, focus and control. Then I’ll tackle obedience with my 7 Common Commands. Over the years, I’ve found that these few commands (SIT, STAY, DOWN, COME, OFF, HEEL, and NO) are the essentials—the ABCs of obedience.

  Once you’ve got basic obedience under control, I’ll turn your attention to behavior problems. Does your dog have an issue that needs to be dealt with? If so, you can choose to live with that problem or to fix it. If your dog has a bad habit like jumping up on your guests, barking all the time, darting through doors, digging holes in the yard, or marking in the house, I’ll teach you how to quickly and efficiently bring that behavior to an end.

  Any book of mine wouldn’t be complete if it was just about training. The chapters that follow are full of the stories of dogs I’ve rescued. Dogs like Grover, who’d been taken to shelters so many times he was terrified of being left alone; Randy, who’d been abused to the point that he screamed if you just touched him; and Kobe, a pint-size but hugely out-of-control dog who’d been labeled untrainable by the owner who abandoned him. People had given up on each of these special dogs, and each one of them went on to become a Lucky Dog alum. I’ve also included a few behind-the-scenes outtakes from my own learning experiences, including stories of a few dogs who pushed me to the furthest limits of my training ability.

  Shelters are bursting at the seams with dogs whose owners didn’t take the time or have the knowledge to properly train them. Many blame the dog, even when all it would have taken was a few fifteen-minute sessions a day—each quicker than the ride to a shelter—to solve the problem. It falls to me, to you, and to everyone else with the compassion and optimism to recognize the vast potential in these abandoned, vulnerable dogs to save them—one dog at a time.

  —Brandon

  PART ONE

  GETTING TO KNOW YOUR DOG

  1

  WHAT MAKES YOUR DOG DIFFERENT?

  Here’s your word of the day: variables. These are the aspects of your dog that you need to assess to become a confident handler and an effective trainer. For our purposes, variables are your dog’s breed, age, life experiences, and distinct personality. Your dog is also the product of his training, and that’s where you come in. Even though the same basic principles work for all dogs, knowing what makes your pet different will help determine your approach to training. Let’s break this down by category.

  Variable 1: Breed

  Breed is a massive factor in your dog’s appearance, temperament, intelligence, energy level, and health. In essence, it’s the “nature” side of what makes your dog different. But remember that when it comes to dogs, nature doesn’t necessarily mean natural evolution; it’s genetic design by people who’ve manipulated canine DNA to build a better dog. What defines better depends on the breeder. Some want big, intimidating guard dogs; others are after quiet, loyal retrievers. Some want dogs who can run down rabbits, rats, or deer. Others want breeds to herd cattle, sheep, or even fish.

  BREED GROUPS

  Long before it was possible to use a computer to order any product or service imaginable and have it at your door in a matter of days (if not hours), dogs were one of the most adaptable tools at man’s disposal. For thousands of years, if a job needed to be done, a breeder would set about designing a dog to do it. Those jobs have ranged from tracker to herder to warrior to companion, and each new “prototype” was followed by more fine-tuned and increasingly specialized breeds, until a small army of dogs of differing size, appearance, and temperament existed to perform the same kind of job.

  A collection of breeds created for a specific kind of task is known as a group in the dog world. There are seven recognized groups; five are defined by what the dog was initially bred to do, and two are catchall categories. Here’s a short summary of each:

  1. Herding Dogs. These are highly intelligent, independent, energetic dogs originally bred to control livestock. This group includes shepherds, sheepdogs, corgis, collies, and cattle dogs—each bred as one kind of herding specialist or another.

  2. Hounds. All hounds were originally bred as hunting dogs, with most considered either sight hounds, with excellent vision, speed, and stamina; or scent hounds, with a powerful sense of smell and tracking ability. This group includes a wide range of breeds, including sight hounds like greyhounds, wolfhounds, and borzois; and scent specialists like basset hounds, bloodhounds, and dachshunds.

  3. Sporting Dogs. Dogs in this category aren’t hunters in their own right, but they’ve been bred to be hunters’ helpers by pointing, retrieving, or flushing game. They’re usually deeply loyal and highly trainable. Dogs in this group include retrievers, setters, and spaniels.

  4. Terriers. In Latin, terrier means “of the earth,” and that neatly sums up the work environment of these typically tenacious and independent dogs. They were originally bred to dig, burrow, and chase pe
sts and prey like rats, badgers, and otters on and below ground. They were the world’s original exterminators, and their group includes the Staffordshire terrier, Scottie, Jack Russell, schnauzer, Westie, and bull terrier.

  5. Working Dogs. This group includes many of the most powerful dog breeds, including boxers, Akitas, rottweilers, mastiffs, and Saint Bernards. Traditionally, they’ve performed important and respected jobs like guarding, drafting, or working with police or military personnel. Many still do these jobs today.

  6. Nonsporting Dogs. What do the shar-pei, bulldog, Boston terrier, dalmatian, Lhasa apso, and poodle all have in common? To be honest, not very much. But each falls under the catchall nonsporting classification because the jobs they were once bred to do no longer exist.

  7. Toy Breeds. The toy category is also a catchall group but with a twist. Dogs in this group have just one thing—size—in common across the board. Many of these dogs, like the Italian greyhound and the Yorkshire terrier, have their roots in other dog groups. Others, like the Pekingese, Maltese, and Havanese, were bred first and foremost to be pint-size companions.

  I don’t know about you, but I don’t need my dog to do any of those things. She doesn’t have to chase, dig, herd, or fight. Like most modern-day dog owners, I just need my dog to be a good companion with enough sense and training to be able to live peaceably in the house.

  The thing is, just because we don’t need our dogs to do the jobs they were bred for over centuries doesn’t mean we can turn those instincts off—and in many cases we wouldn’t want to. Genetic traits don’t just drive work instincts and their associated behavior problems. They also help determine some of the things we love about our dogs: the way they want to be close to us, the way they play, and even quirky traits like the way some dogs love water or learning a new trick or watching over the kids. A lot of behaviors are hardwired in a dog’s DNA, so as owners and trainers, we’re always trying to find some kind of balance between genetic drive and our modern lives.