I don’t usually do obituaries but I’d like to make an exception in this case because the deceased is, and was, a childhood hero of mine.
If you know anything at all about horses you’ll recognize the name Dr. Robert Miller who died at 97 years of age on November 16, 2024. (The way deadlines fell this is the soonest I could get the news of his passing to you.) Dr. Miller didn’t die at the peak of his obituary value because he outlived his contemporaries but in my opinion he certainly deserved more mention in the animal press than he seems to have gotten.
I’ve known his name ever since high school because the world renowned large and exotic animal veterinarian founded the Conejo Valley Veterinary Clinic which was the first large animal practice in the region. His animal hospital received the American Veterinary Hospital Association’s Animal Hospital of the Year award in 1969 and was about 30 minutes from where I grew up on the northern edge of southern California.
I don’t know who was a more famous veterinarian, Dr. Miller or Baxter Black, but both left a lasting legacy in the print media, let alone all their other accomplishments. During his 50-year-plus career, Dr. Miller authored 23 books on equine health and behavior, a memoir called “Yes, We Treat Aardvarks” that should be in the library of everyone who loves animals and good clean humor. He contributed to numerous veterinary and equine publications like Western Horseman and also served on the editorial staff of Veterinary Medicine and was the magazine’s long-running “Mind Over Miller” columnist. Working well into his nineties Dr. Miller was a prolific veterinary and cowboy cartoonist and humorist who went by the moniker “RMM.”
With all this exposure you can imagine my shock when he called me up once to find out how I had become a syndicated columnist because he wanted to do the same. I was amazed that this famous writer, who was often referred to as America’s James Herriot, felt he hadn’t already done enough for one lifetime.
But it wasn’t just his writing that Dr. Miller will be remembered for. He was the “father of foal imprinting” and traveled the world revolutionizing the concept of imprint training and early learning as it pertains to newborn foals and for being an early adopter of relationship-based horsemanship, a movement that involves handling, training, and riding equines using humane, scientifically proven, noncoercive methods. As a practitioner and clinician, Dr. Miller visited six continents conducting horsemanship clinics and teaching imprint training, which has been implemented in stables, breeding programs, zoos, wildlife sanctuaries, and game preserves worldwide. He continued to travel, write, and lecture into his nineties.
Even that is not why and how I knew of Dr. Miller. Growing up I frequently read stories in our local newspaper about Dr. Miller saving the life of all kinds of animals from A to Z. From aardvarks to Zebras. Speaking of newspapers, he once did a rumenotomy on a bison to remove a swollen copy of the liberal LA Times. The massive Sunday edition had caused a near fatal impaction of the rumen and I’m sure the bison was very ill after trying to digest the slop printed by the Times.
Dr. Miller had notable clients including Circus Vargas, Jungleland, and Pacific Ocean Park and when Hollywood had a sick animal on their hands it was Dr. Miller they called. He was instrumental in helping advance the practice of veterinary medicine on all manner of domestic and exotic species. Reading about some of those episodes and encounters I think is one reason why I wanted to become a veterinarian as a youngster. When I saw the lions at Jungleland I was amazed that anyone would even consider being in the same cage with them.
Dr. Miller was a brilliant man with great compassion, wide-ranging interests, and insatiable curiosity, who loved and lived life to the fullest up until his passing. He died holding the reins of his favorite mule, Scooter, and is survived by his wife of 68 years, Debby. I’m sure all the animals he saved and the horses he made life better for threw Dr. Miller one great big celebration of his life once he passed through St. Peter’s gate.
