But when it’s suggested that Mr. Millan — trim in a white T-shirt, black track pants with red racing stripes and a big diamond in his left ear — now has more money and material things than he could ever have imagined growing up, he calmly, assertively objects.
“No, I want a plane,” he corrects. “Because people want to meet my 10 dogs, and I don’t want to put them in cargo. I just want them to ride comfortably, temperature adjusted, water when they need it. It’s not a luxury. It’s a necessity, you know, from a dog perspective.”
Despite his success, he says he never forgets that being a true pack leader means taking care of others, not just yourself. “Sacrifice is a must in any relationship. Animals are not selfish,” he says. He and his wife finance numerous efforts to promote animal health. Their Shelter Stars program provides educational materials to people who adopt pets; they also sponsor a spay-and-neuter campaign and have teamed up with Yale to develop “Mutt-i-grees,” a curriculum based on Mr. Millan’s teachings. The goal is to foster empathy in young children. And, if he has his way, someday every state will have a taxpayer-supported dog rehabilitation center.
Mr. Milio recalls how, at the end of the show’s first season, he teased Mr. Millan at the wrap party about his growing stardom. “If you get famous, you can’t, you know, ask for a bigger trailer and become this difficult guy and throw stuff,” Mr. Milio said.
Mr. Millan nodded, looking, as usual, utterly unworried. “The dogs won’t let me be unstable,” he replied. “If I’m unstable, they won’t follow me. And then, I’m in big trouble.”
