Broadway Tails (28 page)

In the last five years, Dorothy and I bought a new piece of property in Connecticut. We are keeping it as open space. We’ve built a new home and barn for us and all of our animals—nearly forty in all. I call it The Home that Sandy Built. It is part of a sanctuary we call Little Arfin’ Acres that is not only for the wild animals that inhabit our woods, but also for the pets that nobody wanted and that needed a home. For all of them, and for us, tomorrow has come at last.

Everything I know about training animals I learned from my parents.

Before I went off to kindergarten, my parents taught me that all living things—people, dogs, cats, even the plants my dad cared for in his greenhouses—deserve respect and kindness. It was a shock for me when I went to school and first met bullying and meanness. My friends have always been people, like my wonderful wife, Dorothy, who were raised the same way.

So when I first faced the challenge of training an animal for the stage, I didn’t do what other dog trainers had been doing. It seemed obvious to me that trying to bully Sandy to do what I wanted him to do wouldn’t work. So I did what felt right. I tried to make him feel safe and at home. I encouraged him every time he did something I asked him to do. I moved at his pace. I rewarded him for the right behaviors, but I didn’t punish him when he did something wrong—I ignored the wrong behavior and led him to the right one.

I didn’t know that this was the beginning of a positive reinforcement method that was ahead of its time and the technique that would define my career. I just thought I was doing what my parents had taught me to do.

Over the past thirty years, this technique has improved based on what I’ve been taught by every animal I’ve had the pleasure to share my life with, particularly by what I call my “superdogs“—a group that includes Sandy, Cindy Lou, Harriet, Pi, and Chico. They looked into my eyes and connected with something deep inside. Each of them taught me something important about who I am, what I could do, and what we could do together.

I was lucky enough to have my parents with me for most of my career. They were able to see what I accomplished based on what they had taught me. They were there to support me in my low times. At first, it seemed very sad to me that my father died just days before I got the news that I would be receiving a Tony Honor. Then it became clear to me that my father was looking out for me and had sent me this gift. It gave me hope and the strength to move forward. When I accepted the award, I thanked the Tony committee, my wife and daughter, my staff, and all the rescue animals that have made me what I am today. But I dedicated the award to my father.

When you get gifts like that, you have to show your gratitude. That’s why I’m donating 20 percent of my royalties to The Sandy Fund at the Humane Society of New York.

There’s one other thing I’ve learned over my career, and it’s something I hope you’ve learned from reading this book. There are great animals at your local shelter that need homes. All of the animals I’ve trained, including my superdogs, were rescues, animals that someone had abandoned or given up on. If you adopt a homeless animal, you may also find that special connection.

Adopt an animal, and you will find your own star.