‘You’ve heard of the Dog Whisperer? I do the same.’

GREENE – William was found tied to a tree in the middle of winter. Ace was beaten by his previous owner and abandoned when that owner couldn’t get the dog to obey. Katie, a Hurricane Katrina rescue, was so unruly that shelter workers could barely deal with her. Little Jake tried to bite anyone who got close.

But in a tree-lined backyard in Greene, those dogs – and over a dozen others – eagerly greet a couple of strangers before taking off en masse after a grubby tennis ball, all lolling tongues and happy barks. Not a sign of fear or aggression in the pack.

“You’ve heard of the Dog Whisperer?” said Sergei Bachkovsky. “I do the same.”

Born in Russia and raised in the Ukraine, Bachkovsky, 36, grew up playing with the neighborhood dogs. He always enjoyed dogs, respected them, understood their behavior.

When Bachkovsky moved to Maine about 10 years ago with his wife, Lisa, a Maine native, they had a pair of dogs of their own. Bachkovsky was earning a living as an artist. He never considered working with unruly animals.

Until Katie walked into his life two years ago.

A cattle dog-border collie mix, Katie was up for adoption at the Kennebec Valley Humane Society in Augusta. Bachkovsky wanted to adopt a dog after his elderly Dalmatian died, but he was warned that Katie, a rowdy dog with a wild streak, might not be the best choice.

“She was all, ‘Grrr,'” he recalled.

During a visit, Bachkovsky wowed shelter workers with the way he handled Katie: gentle and calm but firm, like an alpha dog who expected her to – and got her to – follow the rules.

“I said, ‘Can I adopt her?’ They said, ‘Yes, right now,'” Bachkovsky said. “After that, they’re coming like apples in the fall time.”

He set up a kind of doggie rehab center on 3 acres behind his home. He now has 22 dogs, from Chihuahua mixes to pit bulls.

Some are from area shelters and rescue groups. Others are from families that just couldn’t handle them. With problems that range from anxiety to aggression, the dogs likely would have been euthanized or languished in shelters if Bachkovsky hadn’t taken them.

Now they’re adoptable.

Bachkovsky doesn’t yell or hit. He exudes an air of calm confidence, using canine psychology – the need for a strong, composed pack leader – to get the dogs to follow direction. He corrects improper behavior immediately and with a firm “no.” He lets his friendly, well-behaved, easy-going pack serve as role models for new dogs. He slowly exposes them to other people, including his children, Eliza, 9, and Alexander, 3.

Because a lot of high-energy dogs come to him anxious, bored and frustrated from a life spent confined, they pass their nights inside and their days in a wide, fenced area filled with obstacles to jump over or crawl under.

Bachkovsky gets up at 5 a.m. to take the pack for a three- or four-hour walk through back roads and trails. He takes a few of them out again in the afternoon and spends hours a day playing ball with them. Because that still isn’t enough for some dogs, he’s set up treadmills for extra walking time.

“They come to me like criminals,” Bachkovsky said. “They become a normal citizen, have a chance to act like normal dogs.”

The Kennebec Valley Humane Society credits Bachkovsky with helping at least 20 of its dogs, including Jake, a tiny Chihuahua mix who’d bitten a child and snapped so viciously at adults that shelter staff couldn’t get close enough to put a muzzle on him.

“(Bachkovsky) brought him in a week and a half later and he was a totally relaxed dog,” said Melinda Kimball, dog manager at the shelter. “We love Sergei. He’s really amazing. He’s a gift, really. We wish we could clone him.”

Barbara Lake of Lewiston calls Bachkovsky “a miracle man” for helping her pug, Taffy. Lake, 81, had never owned a pet, let alone a puppy, when friends urged her to get a dog for companionship. She had no clue how to handle Taffy, who nipped, pulled on the leash and generally refused to behave.

With lots of exercise and a few psychological tricks – like never letting Taffy walk out the door first – Bachkovsky taught Lake how to deal with her tiny terror.

“I saw what he could do and I realized if he could do it, I could do it,” she said.

Dog rehabilitation is Bachkovsky’s full-time job. He charges to go to a client’s home – the amount is flexible – and he accepts donations of food, money and materials, but it typically costs more to run the place than he takes in. He was recently licensed as a rescuer, allowing the Kennebec Valley Humane Society to give him dogs instead of requiring that he pay to adopt them. He hopes to file as a nonprofit soon.

Bachkovsky has big plans for his place: a yard expansion, a pond for the dogs, a building or two. For now, he’s focused on working with Haley, a pit bull mix who’s torn into a chain link fence to attack other dogs. And he’s working on getting adoptive homes for some members of his pack.

Then he can help other dogs.

Have an idea for a pet feature? Contact Lindsay Tice at 689-2854 or e-mail her at [email protected]



For more information about “dog-whisperer” Sergei Bachkovsky: call 946-5348 or 841-8575 or e-mail [email protected].