Totos take direction, too

RALEIGH -- As Ashley snuggles in actress Jenny Gulley's lap, it's easy to envision the scruffy Cairn terrier as an adoring Toto to Gulley's Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz." But will Ashley jump through fire for Gulley, as Toto must in N.C. Theatre's production of the classic tale?

Fat chance -- that is, unless Dorothy's packing Milk-Bones.

It's as simple as that, says animal trainer William Berloni, whose dramatic dogs have acted alongside decades of Dorothys and Annies on Broadway and in regional theaters.

Just like their human counterparts, canine actors will work their tails off for small rewards. Give them a hug, a treat or some kind words at the end of a scene and they're ready to do it again.

"I never force an animal to perform," says Berloni, who also trains cats, birds, rodents and other creatures for roles in theater, film and television.

Berloni never formally studied animal behavior. Each pet teaches him new lessons, he says. But positive reinforcement is the key.

"It's not, 'You have to do this,' but 'How can we make it pleasurable so you will?' " he says. "And that's just the thought of any loving pet owner: 'What can I do to make your life comfortable?' "

Berloni didn't set out to be a trainer. He was an actor at Connecticut's Goodspeed Opera House when "Annie" got its start there 30 years ago. The staff asked him to find a dog to play Annie's mutt, Sandy.

Berloni found one at a local shelter, and he kept Sandy after the show closed. When "Annie" moved to Broadway soon afterward, Sandy reprised his role, and Berloni launched his new career as a trainer.

Berloni now has 17 dogs, four cats, three horses, two llamas, a donkey, a pony, four rats, three mice and a bird -- all on his farm in Haddam, Conn.

Most of the pets are working or retired actors that Berloni rescued from shelters. But the llamas are freeloaders, a gift from his wife when they were first dating (wedding bells rang in his head when she unveiled them).

Berloni will not work with primates or wild cats, because he doesn't believe they should be used in entertainment. He also serves as a behavior consultant for the Humane Society of New York.

Berloni finds his animals on the Web. He goes to the search mechanism petfinder.org, which includes most shelters and rescue groups nationwide. Berloni scans photos and descriptions for good candidates.

Stage dogs must have a calm demeanor and a high stress threshold, he says. If a dog can't handle the inevitable roars of applause when it makes its first entrance each night, it can't be an actor.

Even when they perform perfectly, dogs can be problematic, drawing the audience's attention away from the main action. So Berloni suggests that "Oz" directors incorporate some time for Toto to go exploring offstage.

For actors who like animals, creating bonds is easy.

At the first rehearsal, the actor straps on Berloni's belly-pack full of food. The dog seeks out the beloved belly-pack and befriends the actor, doing tricks for treats. Soon, the dog looks for the actor and not the belly-pack. By the time the show opens, only the most difficult tasks -- like leaping through fire -- earn treats.

N.C. Theatre has used Berloni's dog crew for several "Annie" and "Oz" productions over the decades. They scored a coup with Ashley, whose resume is long, including a 1998 revival of "The Wizard of Oz" at New York's Madison Square Garden that starred Mickey Rooney and Eartha Kitt.

Ashley is one of four Totos at Berloni's farm. Her Raleigh understudy is Princess, an agile 6-year-old who loves doing tricks but doesn't yet have the patience to sit and stare longingly into Dorothy's eyes.

Gulley knows that even veteran actors like Ashley can't fake love. So she has been wooing her two Totos with treats and caresses.

"They need to be comfortable with me, and the audience has to see that trust," she says. "It's not like two humans who can just bond by acting. It has to be real."

Berloni must also prepare Gulley for nerve-racking "what if" moments, like what if Toto doesn't come when Dorothy calls her, or what if Toto starts scratching herself madly during "Over the Rainbow."

"I'm here to make her look good," he says of Gulley. "This is not about Toto. It's about Dorothy. And if the dog does anything to upstage this relationship, the play suffers."

But until theater produces a flawless human actor, he says, producers have no right to complain about imperfect Totos.

"As living creatures," he says, "they're going to make mistakes."