The Desert’s Own Dog Whisperer Is Back, and Tails are Wagging
Three boisterous dogs on quarantine row at the Coachella Valley Animal Campus are boisterous no more.
Will Irwin is back.
Will, who turns 62 in December, suffered chest pains Sept. 23rd at the Thousand Palms-based shelter where he works as an animal care technician, and his absence of almost a month was felt by both two-legged and four-legged creatures at the Coachella Valley Animal Campus.
Everyone at the Thousand Palms shelter knows the wonders Will works with some of the meanest, nastiest and biggest dogs that come in from the desert streets. A lot of them are not only fearsome; they’re also some of the most fearful — the type that might bite just because they are so scared.
But Will works magic with these dogs. It’s as if he’s got a sirloin steak in his back pocket.
So what does he do on his first day back (Oct. 21) after his recovery? He converts three snarling canines into mellow pups.
“These were three not-so-nice dogs,” says Supervising Animal Care Technician Deanna Burnett. “ But after Will spends some time with them, they’re now mellowed out. He walks by and they come up to the front of the gate wagging their tails and waiting for him.”
Veterinary Technician Jo Marie Upegui describes Will as patient and nonjudgmental toward these special-needs dogs.
“He gives them all an equal chance,” Jo Marie says. “He has a way of talking with them. He’s got this body language. He works with the most fearful, the most unsocial. The ones that give you a hard stare or have their tail tucked underneath themselves. Will is a very forgiving man.”
And the dogs seem to pick up on that forgiving side of Will.
Deanna started at the Coachella Valley Animal Campus in April 2006, the same day as Will. She says she’s always been amazed at his ability to communicate with the Coachella Valley’s toughest cases.
“He’s so good with the animals,” she says. “He’s truly dedicated to them. He really tries hard to rehabilitate the ones he can with the limited amount of time he has.”
Certainly some of these dogs will never go to a loving home. But so many others travel to the adoption/rescue partners that work with the Department of Animal Services. Will provides the first level of love — and also consults with his colleagues on the behaviorist team: Teryn Hartnett, Jackie Schart and Kristi Slane.
“Some of the rescue groups are able to see some potential in these dogs that they would not have ever seen if Will hadn’t spent some time with them,” said Senior Behaviorist Teryn Hartnett.
On Sept. 23rd one of those mean dogs proved a good friend to an ailing Will.
Will didn’t necessarily suffer a heart attack. He calls it a “warning sign.” The chest pains were so bad they knocked him to his knees.
At that very moment he was working with a large, wolf-hybrid dog. “A big wolf boy,” as Will called him.
“The dog caught me,” Will says. “He didn’t move. He knew something was wrong. He stood still and I used him to get up.”
Will caught his breath, took some aspirin and found a colleague to let someone know he wasn’t feeling well. The colleague, Animal Care Technician Jesus Pena, told Will: You don’t look well. Will, who lives in Cathedral City, called his daughter to get picked up and was soon hospitalized. He discovered one of his arteries was 60 percent clogged.
Three weeks later, and Will is back in quarantine row, working with the shelter’s most challenging dogs. (It figures: Will is a Marine vet and doesn’t intimidate easily.)
“I talk with them, I play with them,” Will says. “I spend a few minutes with them. It’s not a whole lot of time. But it makes their day.
“It makes mine too.”