A ‘Hugs and Kisses’ Approach to Animal Training

“I honestly believe that there are no bad pets, only pets who have been dealt a bad hand by the people they live with.”

Any fan of Warren Eckstein will probably recognize that statement--or, at least, the sentiment--as coming from the well-known animal advocate and host of the syndicated radio show “The Pet Show” (heard locally on KABC-AM [790] Saturdays from 6 to 8 a.m.). In his new book, “Memoirs of a Pet Therapist” (with Denise Madden, Fawcett Columbine), Eckstein lays out the path that led him to “a career that makes people and their pets smile”; why he feels close to two-footed, four-footed and no-footed creatures; and relates the disappointments, the triumphs, the sadness (his first wife, Fay, died at 36 just weeks after a malignant melanoma was discovered), the happiness (“I’m with a person [Madden] I love”).

Eckstein had a natural love for animals as a child.

“I was one of the proverbial little kids who always brought whatever animals were out there into the house; it didn’t matter to me whether it was a field mouse, a lizard or a snake.” When his father bought an auto body shop called McLean’s Auto Body, Eckstein decided a guard dog was needed. They went to the local pound and, instead of a traditional guard-dog type, brought home a Saint Bernard they named Charlie.

“Charlie turned out to be the perfect watchdog. He watched everyone, but the only people he would bark at were the people who worked there. Charlie was the first in a succession of junkyard dogs that I would turn into lap dogs. Needless to say, my dad’s shop was robbed regularly.” The robbers, Eckstein says, usually left notes that read: “What a nice dog!”

Young Warren grew up into teenager Warren, a volunteer firefighter and rebellious college student who spent all his free time at veterinary hospitals, humane societies, pet stores--anywhere where he could hang out with the animals. The activist in him inspired him to argue the ethics with one professor of doing research with hallucinatory drugs on rats. And his “combination of patriotism and escapism” made him decide to enlist in the military.

Even in the service, Eckstein managed to spend time with animals, and with trainers and behaviorists. The experiences--not just with dogs, but with lions and tigers and bears--taught Eckstein much about different animals and various training techniques. But he was still convinced that his “hugs and kisses approach would work better.”

Back in the U.S., and now married to Fay, Eckstein took out an ad in the Pennysaver on Long Island, an area with a high Jewish population. The ad read: “We’ll teach your dog Yiddish for $15.” And the rest, as they say, is history. The phones started ringing, and soon Eckstein was solving pet problems and training animals.

He went on to become involved in cruelty investigations, receiving peace officer status; to train dogs of ordinary folks, Mafia men, celebrities; to appear on TV, including “Late Night With David Letterman”; and to become resident trainer for “Saturday Night Live.” Among Eckstein’s more memorable experiences:

* He met with “a guy I swear sounded exactly like Sonny Corleone. ‘Mmm, I gotta dog, y’know, an’ you need to train him, ‘cuz he’s a puppy--whaddya call, a Doberman.’ ” Eckstein explained that in this case, because the puppy would be left with him for two or three months, that he would need a $1,500 deposit from the man. “ ‘No problem,’ he replied, lifting his shirt, under which were stacks--and I mean stacks--of hundred-dollar bills stuck into his belt. Somewhere in the conversation I said to him, ‘By the way, what do you do for a living?’ His exact words to me were: ‘Hear this once: You never ask a man what he does for a living.’ ”

* On one of the “coldest nights” he could remember on Long Island, he answered a call about a dog in a backyard whose owner was away. “When I went into the backyard, to my horror and disbelief, I saw an emaciated beagle, tied to a short chain, whose paw was frozen in the ice; he had gnawed at it until it was just about off.” He took the dog to a 24-hour veterinary clinic and was told the paw would have to be amputated. “I paid the veterinary costs out of my own pocket, well over $1,000. The beagle survived . . . and eventually found his way into a loving and nurturing family. His owner got off with a $50 fine.”

* On one segment of the New York program “Saturday Morning Live,” with host Gene Rayburn: “I had on the set a fallow deer, a llama, a goat and a baby bear while I answered questions from the studio audience. With the cameras rolling and the llama behind me, all of a sudden I started feeling a little damp. The llama had just peed all over me. I mean, I was just drenched in llama urine and Gene started to laugh. Regardless, the show went on!”