Look Who's Back On TV! It's Popular Diefenbaker

Let's get this right. Lincoln was a former president of the United States and Diefenbaker, an ex-prime minister of Canada.

So, doesn't it figure, if you're Alliance Communication Corp., a Canadian television-production company filming for an American network, CBS, and there's a dog in the series, both countries need to be represented.

Well, meet Diefenbaker (a k a Lincoln), the cult hero of "Due South," the refreshing comedy-adventure series that by popular demand was reintroduced to American prime-time television last Friday. The 2-year-old, 50-pound Siberian husky has it all. At home, the popular dog's (he's a deaf, lip-reading wolf, for TV purposes) call name is Lincoln. On the set in Toronto and on your screen, he's Diefenbaker.

This engaging pooch, the partner of crime-busting Constable Benton Fraser (Paul Gross) and Detective Ray Vecchio (David Marciano), who patrol the streets of Chicago, has emerged into quite a celebrity. In fact, he receives several letters daily from other dogs (yes, that's right) and viewers, according to his trainer, Joey Young of London, Ontario.

"The first fan mail that came in for the show was for Diefenbaker," says Kathy Slevin, co-executive producer and sister of Young.

It comes spelled about every way imaginable - Deffen Baker, Diefenbacher, Dieffenbachia.

And according to Young, the producers receive phone calls and letters of complaint if Diefenbaker receives too little air time.

"They're very cognizant of that now, so each script has a fair amount of time built in for the dog."

On the farm

Lincoln and his filming cohorts live on a seven-acre farm in London, Ontario, approximately 100 miles west of Toronto, with Ted Haggis, the family patriarch, and Young. "Dad stays home with the others when Lincoln, Kerri-Ann (4-year-old Siberian husky), Bear (5-month-old Siberian) and I are in Toronto filming," adds Young.

There's a funny story associated with Lincoln's rise to stardom, she adds. "Paul (Haggis, the series creator and Young's brother) called all over Canada trying to find a trained white Siberian husky that resembled a wolf for the role. He couldn't find what he wanted, so he phoned dad and asked him to try to locate one right away.

"Dad went through the local papers and found an 8-month-old husky advertised. He drove over to take a look and ended up purchasing Lincoln for $300 or $400 from a man who had bought it for his young son.

"The two couldn't control the dog, and were becoming increasingly frustrated. If you know this breed, you know it's a working, active animal and not an indoor house pet. Dad knows dogs and he said Lincoln's eyes told him he had it (from a standpoint of intelligence and willingness to learn)."

Ted Haggis and Young are experienced bird-dog trainers, but according to Young, "This was a whole new ballgame. Retriever and spaniel breeds are by nature easy to train, but the Siberian is a real challenge." Add to the mix that Young, 37, had been away from dog training for 15 years in other business ventures. "I did some quick brush-up work on basics with other trainers," she says.

Haggis purchased the dog April 1 with a mandate of having it camera ready by Aug. 1. That meant five hours of obedience work five days a week, with plenty of play time, agility and balancing work integrated. "The key thing was keeping Lincoln's interest, making certain he was progressing and allowing him to have fun," explains Young.

Both Lincoln and Chinook, his original standby, were used in the series' early shoots, but Chinook "fizzled out and Lincoln began to quickly blossom. Chinook got us through the difficult times, but Lincoln has matured incredibly fast from the young, scared and impressionable dog that first came on the set," adds the trainer.

It has been a learning experience for everyone involved - writers, producers and actors - according to Young. "Putting a dog into a script and tossing in some special tricks isn't all that easy. It's taken a while, but we have a established a comfort zone for everyone."

As Lincoln's trainer, Young has a say, too. "I get a look at each script a few days beforehand to see what's needed from him."

A pet at home

In case you're wondering, Lincoln is your basic house dog off the set. "He's my shadow and my best friend," says Young. "He doesn't sleep on my bed, but he's right alongside. He wakes me up every morning by rubbing his head on the bed.

"If I go out the door without him, he doesn't like it. He thrives on going to work and being amidst people he enjoys."

When the food-service truck pull into the lot, Lincoln knows full well he'll be able to mooch a sliver of pizza or chunk of a donut from someone. "I have to keep him on a strict diet," says Young. "He has that look that melts your heart when you have food in your hands."

After a long summer away from the set (it was uncertain whether CBS would renew the series), Young and Lincoln are in the midst of 12-hour work days, with plenty of rest between the dog's stints on camera.

On set, they hang out in a $50,000 home-away-from-home, six-meter heated trailer with three kennels complete with a bed and 2 1/2-meter exercise run in each.

Of the two primary performers, Gross is a big dog fan, according to Young. Marciano isn't. But they're all family when it comes to closely-confined shoots in the Buick Riviera.

"When David and Paul are in the front seat, Lincoln's in the middle of the back and I'm crouched down on the floorboard giving the dog his queue. When a third person's in the front seat, the front seat gets pushed back and I'm really crammed in there. But you know what? Lincoln always has his space," she laughs.

Last year in a Canadian Press story, Gross joked of his four-legged partner, "We are particularly good friends. And he - as a matter of fact - is helping me renovate my basement right now. Very industrious, very handy with tools."

Which is probably why Young characterizes Lincoln: "He doesn't know he's a dog anymore. He thinks he's an actor and one of us. Quite frankly, he thrives on being the center of attention."

Maybe that's Lincoln's definition of a "comfort zone."