23/07/2025
I said goodbye to Reggie yesterday.
Reggie was like a human in a dog’s body. With his giant head and fascinating eyes, he could look right into your soul. He didn’t bark. He didn’t need to. His eyes would stop a person or dog in their tracks. If the mailman, a sales person, or anyone came to the door, he would walk to the door and look at them with eyes that said, “Go ahead. I dare you.”
And it was more intimidating than barking or growling. Strangers would back away.
He was reactive to other dogs when he was young, but with positive training and confidence, he realized he didn’t need to bark or lunge. We made a game of him looking at other dogs and then look back to me for a tasty snack. Soon he’d look at a dog who was barking at him, and look back at me as if to say, “See what I just did?”
Puppy Reggie (1 yr old) was my partner when I went to dog trainer school (Karen Pryor Academy for Animal Behavior). He had to learn everything I learned in order for me to pass, so we worked hard every day. Akitas aren’t known for being easy to train, so I had to make the training exercise a game, and had to make the games fun and interesting for him. He was by far the most relaxed dog partner in the class, and we passed the 6 month course with flying colors.
I was also doing a traveling comedy show, and he became my performing partner. He didn’t do normal dog tricks. He would go to a cabinet, open the door, get my keys out, close the door and bring my keys.
He would yawn on cue (when I said, “Reggie is SO excited to be here.”)
I would hand him an empty water bottle and he would take it and put it in a recycling bin - then go to the trash can, step on the foot pedal to open the can, take out an empty bottle from the trash and put it in the recycling bin.
He would have a challenge to pick up toys all over the stage and put them in his toy box before a song ended (if he failed, the kids in the audience would never have to put away their toys again for the rest of their lives…) He would drop the last toy in right at the end of the song.
He would bang on the keys of a little piano whenever I told him, “Do NOT play the piano.”
He would turn on a lamp when I clapped my hands twice and then turn it off when I clapped my hands twice.
But his big trick was the mind reading act - a magic trick we worked on together for almost a year. He would come out wearing a cape, a turban and x-ray vision glasses and read somebody’s mind from the audience. The person would think of a number, and Reg would hold a pencil in his mouth and write the number the person was thinking on a sheet of paper. It was wild and so much fun.
Reggie was also on TV a few times. He was an extra on the TV show Manifest, was on a cable TV cooking show, and starred on the Disney show K-9 Undercover (He had a speaking part!),
He was a character. He wrote a lot of his own materiel during our live shows. He would do something and get a laugh from the audience. The next show he would do the same thing! He was reinforced by audience laughter. If I were talking to him, he would look at the audience - almost rolling his eyes, and then I’d turn to talk to the audience, and he’d look at me. We had a great rapport.
When I taught dog training classes, he was my demo dog. He could do anything, and he was just as funny during the classes, making teaching so much fun.
We could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. We knew each other that well.
I started a dog training business, and called it The Clever Dog training, and the logo was a cartoon Reggie spinning a ball with his paw. The logo is on all of my work shirts - he’ll always be with me.
He was getting old, and having trouble getting around. He’d call me when he needed help standing up. Sometimes he’d call me throughout the night. The Prednisone would make him thirsty and he couldn’t get up. I’d wake up and go pick him up so he could get a drink.
I knew with his arthritis that I would have to someday make the decision to say goodbye. I told myself if he can’t get up. I’ll pick him up. If p**p slips out, I’ll pick it up. If he can’t walk, and is falling hard, and hurting, I can’t fix that. I’ll draw the line there. I kept him alive as long as I could.
I miss him so much.
