At Circus Circus, Gregory Popovich pulls off the impossible: training finicky felines

Any cat owner can relate to the frustrations of trying to train his favorite feline.

"C'mere Fluffy. Here Fluffy, kitty-kitty-kitty."

Fluffy flops on the floor. Fluffy licks herself. Fluffy falls asleep.

Forget about teaching Fluffy to crawl across parallel bars.

Unless you're Gregory Popovich.

Billed as "The World's Greatest One Man Circus," Popovich stars in "Gregory Popovich's Comedy & Pet Theatre" on the midway at Circus Circus. His show runs at 11:20 a.m., 1:30 and 3:30 p.m. Thursday through Monday.

Popovich's show is mostly traditional circus-act fare. He juggles a dozen rings, balances himself on a free-standing 10-foot stepladder and tosses his red hat high in the air and positions himself so it lands gently on his head.

Popovich then brings out his favorite show dog, Phillip, who performs a few stock animal tricks, such as stealing hot dogs off a plate while Popovich isn't looking and jumping over a metal bar. A group of six canines then trot out to sit in small desks and attend Popovich's "school." One dog dutifully erases a marking board and another counts out (with barks) the answer to 10 minus 7 and 3 plus 2.

Fun stuff, but it seems a bit routine to draw the 100 or so eager fans -- many forced to stand during the show for lack of seating -- to Popovich's performances.

Then he breaks out the cats.

A dozen felines rush the stage and sit (obediently!) under tall, carpeted poles topped by round platforms. Then Popovich utters a command and, on cue, they scramble to the top. And sit. Again, obediently.

One cat slaloms through Popovich's legs while he walks across the stage. Another walks across a thin balance beam at Popovich's request. One jumps from a post 15 feet tall onto Popovich's shoulder, and yet another works its way across uneven bars, its front legs working furiously and hind legs dangling freely.

At the show's conclusion, after each cat races from the stage and into small kennels on command, Popovich again summons his star canine. Phillip returns, stands upright on his hind legs, and the last remaining cat, Smokey, hops on his back. Phillip then carries Smokey off the stage to rousing applause.

OK, Gregory, how do you do it?

"There is no real secret to it," says the 32-year-old Popovich, a Circus Circus performer since 1991. "I spend a lot of time with the kitties and study them to see what their natural habit is."

Popovich says he recognizes that cats do have specific and unique characteristics. "I try to find out what they naturally like to do," he says. "Some like to claw on the floor. Some like to climb. Some like to roll around. Some like to paw your leg. I find out what they do and build an act to fit their natural character."

Popovich uses a feather at first to tease the cats, having them respond to the same command repeatedly until the cat -- perhaps without even realizing it -- is being trained.

"It's doing it over and over, and it's a lot of patience," Popovich says. "They get used to responding to the feather, then you use your arm, then your hand, then a finger. It's a step-by-step process. When a cat can respond to a strong verbal command or even a nod of the head, it's ready to be trained for the stage."

The loud music and bright show lights are the final hurdle, not just from the Circus Circus midway but also from television shows such as "The Late Show With David Letterman," "The Tonight Show Starring Jay Leno" and, most recently, "Penn & Teller's Sin City Spectacular," during which Penn Jillette called out after Popovich's bit, "Gregory Popovich, the most patient man on the planet!"

"I have lights at home and I have a loud tape recording of music," Popovich says. "I train them after a while with the lights and tape, and they gradually get used to it. They are comfortable on the stage, and the tricks they perform, to them, is just like playing."

Popovich spends six or seven months training his cats before bringing them before a live audience. "It's not different from working with dogs, it's just that cats are more easily distracted," Popovich says. "Also, you can train an adult dog much easier than an adult cat. Adult cats can be very difficult to work with."

Popovich makes regular visits to local animal shelters -- he prefers the Dewey Amimal Care Center or Henderson Animal Shelter -- seeking his newest stars.

"I make trips every two or three weeks," he says. "Everyone is surprised I get the kitties that way. But where else would I find them? I feel good that they have a home and I treat them well with a lot of love."

Popovich is treated like any other person seeking a pet, although he does have a special animal handler permit that allows him to adopt more than the three dogs and three cats the typical pet owner is allotted.

"His process is the same as anyone," Vicki Cameron, administrator at the Henderson Animal Shelter, says. "He doesn't get preferential treatment. He pays the same fees as anyone ($22.50-$46 per kitten). I'm just amazed at how he's able to handle these cats, because you have to have a lot of love and rewards and extreme patience."

Popovich's family heritage is rich in circus performance and animal training. His parents were dog trainers in Moscow, and at the age of 6 he learned the time-honored circus act of juggling.

Popovich became one of the most revered jugglers in the Soviet Union. He joined the famed Moscow Circus at age 16 (the earliest the Soviet government allowed teens to work for pay) and spent much of the 1980s touring with the Moscow Circus and winning national and world juggling championships.

When Mikhail Gorbachev ushered in perestroika (openness) in the late '80s, Popovich received a correspondence that, just a couple of years earlier, would have seemed impossible.

An American company -- the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus -- offered him a job.

"In the mid '80s, I could not have foreseen this happening to me," Popovich says. "To work and live in America was not something we considered, ever."

Popovich worked with Ringling Bros. for two years, then was discovered by Circus Circus Entertainment Director Mike Hartzell, who offered the impressive juggler a show in Las Vegas.

"A dream come true," Popovich says. "I felt very fortunate, it was a whole new life."

The problem, as Popovich soon discovered, is that jugglers are not necessarily the most popular form of entertainment in Las Vegas. He needed something new and different to grab the attention of star-struck Las Vegas tourists.

"I started with dogs, training them, but I knew I had to have something other than dogs and juggling," Popovich says. "I am a good juggler and good with the dogs, but that was not enough."

Popovich began training cats and, in 1995, added felines to his show.

The rest, as Popovich's troupe would say, is hisssstory.

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