Review: Cesar Millan's new DVD set

As a leading authority in the canine community, I was recently offered a chance to review the new Cesar Millan DVD set Mastering Leadership. I have some concerns about such programs, and in fact, I am developing my own TV pilot in which I teach dogs techniques to better control their humans. But mother was eager to view the DVDs, so I accepted the set on her behalf. After all, if the techniques could bring a little discipline to my ankle-biting little brother, it couldn't be all bad. Here is mother's review of the set.

I often watch Dog Whisperer on the National Geographic Channel, but I hadn't really tried any of his techniques. (To be honest, I just thought it was funny to watch how Mugsy and Wendell would respond to some of the dogs on TV.) But little Wendell is one of those dogs who would gladly pull you through a walk, choking and wheezing all the way. So I turned to Cesar Millan's three-DVD set, Mastering Leadership, for some advice. The first DVD is just Cesar talking to folks about keys to keeping your dogs happy and healthy. If you've ever seen the show, the ideas in this part will all be pretty familiar — give your dog exercise, then discipline, then affection; calm, assertive energy makes you a pack leader; your dog is not a human. The second DVD was what proved really helpful for me (and Wendell). I watched the segment that featured Dixie, a Jack Russell terrier who yipped and pulled her way through every walk. I was happy to note that Dixie was even worse at walking on a leash than Wendell. After watching, I used Cesar's advice on walking your dog — have calm, assertive energy; don't let the dog walk in front of you; and correct bad behavior the moment it starts. The results were really good — by the end of the walk, Wendell was happily trotting behind me, and I only had to do an occasional correction. We've got a lot of work to do on having Wendell stay calm when we pass other dogs and people, but that's something Cesar covers in the DVD, too. I'm looking forward to trying those techniques, as well.

A walk and a surprise

It was a lovely evening. Mother arrived home from work, earlier than usual, and said the magical "W" word: Walk. Wendell sprang from his pillow and ran a quick circle, while I was more nonchalant but no less giddy. In short order, we were both tethered to our leashes and heading out the door. The smells of the neighborhood were magnificent, as usual. I tend to savor each scent, believing that every aroma is a blessing from Allah. Wendell is more of a racer, intent on covering as much ground as possible. As you might imagine, the elder pug's methods generally win out. Just across the bridge, I found a nice patch of grass. "Come, Wendell," I instructed. "Let us pay special attention to the scents here. You have much to learn." With that, we lowered our noses to the grass and began to make our rounds. As I sniffed, I came across a colony of large ants and shared with them a brief sermon and my latest fatwas. Roughly 90 percent of the insects converted to canine Islam on the spot, and the other 10 percent, well, I sensed that they were trouble-makers and wouldn't contribute any rawhide to the offering plate, anyway. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw mother sweeping something off her foot. "Come on, pugs," she said. "Let's go." Rather than resist the gentle pull of the leash, I went along. It had been a good walk, and I could use a drink.

Back at the ayatollah compound, I took my place on the recliner and began to meditate. I was nearing a dreamlike state when I sensed a fellow creature near me. Moving my head to the side, I spied a pair of luscious, pouting lips. "Angelina," I barked, still half-asleep, "I see that my harem invitation has been well-received. Welcome to the ... Ack!" I nearly jumped out of my fur. The massive-lipped woman before me was not a Hollywood harem prospect at all. Instead, it was my mother, suffering the effects of an acute allergic reaction. Her face was puffy and red, and hives had broken out all over her body. Her feet were swollen to mammoth proportions. "Mugsy," she said, "I've got to go to the emergency room."

Don't fear, my flock. Mother is now home, and thanks to some Benadryl and steroids, she is feeling much better. And as for that aforementioned 10 percent of ne'er-do-well ants who had the audacity to attack my mother, know that they will be made an example of as a warning to other infidel bugs in the neighborhood. Just as soon as I find enough tiny banana hooks to go around.

A decision has been made

Many members of the congregation have weighed in on my recent betrayal at the hands of a loved one. Some were quick to condemn mother for her poor infant fashion sense. Others came to her defense, pointing out her role in shaping the world's foremost authority on canine Islam.

I have taken both arguments to heart. And despite mother's grievous transgressions, I have decided to keep her around. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I hear her pouring my morning meal.

Betrayal of trust

There are times, my flock, when our loved ones disappoint us. When their actions are so far out of line that they serve as an affront to our personal moral beliefs. I experienced such disappointment over the weekend, my flock. And the one who betrayed my trust was none other than my mother.

She was going to a baby shower. "Mugsy," she asked beforehand, "I know the ministry's coffers are low, but may I please buy a gift for the baby-to-be? I promise it will not interfere with the flow of rawhide to your eager mouth, Your Holiness." I briefly considered her request and then nodded my consent. Longtime readers of this blog know of my well-established compassion for the world's children. Though seldom as attractive as puppies, they are innocents and thus deserve a good start in life. I believe the children are our future -- our future dog servants. So not only did I grant mother permission to purchase a fitting gift for the baby, I also offered a suggestion that would ensure this human had a leg up right out of the starting gate.

And what gift did mother purchase for this child? Not an Ayatollah Mugsy Youth Infant Creeper, as I had recommended. Not even a Pug Crumb Catcher Bib. It is tragic, really. This child could have entered this world at the height of fashion, commanding respect from his or her peers from Day One. Plus, the baby would have served as a crawling, drooling billboard for the ministry. What higher purpose could Allah bestow on a human child? Instead, it will wear some common outfit from Target. If ever mother was deserving of chastisement, now is the time. So let her have it, my flock.