|
|
| Puppies Behind Bars: Prison-Reared Dogs are Groomed for Lives of Service |
| By Associated Press |
| Published: 08/06/2003 |
|
A convicted murderer spends his time behind the razor wire preparing a young Labrador retriever for training as a guide dog for the blind. In one of the red brick dormitory-style housing units at the medium-security Fishkill Correctional Facility, 60 miles north of New York City, about 15 inmates are grooming puppies for lives of service in a program called Puppies Behind Bars. ''All my life, I've been a criminal,'' said Joe Russo, 41, serving 12 years to life for drug-dealing. ''Now I'm doing something positive, something I can be proud of. I'm giving something back to society.'' Puppies Behind Bars was started in 1997 by Gloria Gilbert Stoga of Manhattan, who became interested in guide dogs after adopting a Labrador retriever that had been hit by a truck and released from guide training. She learned about a dog-training program started in 1990 by veterinarian Thomas Lane at a prison in Florida. That program now operates in Georgia, South Carolina, and Alabama as well. Other dog programs have been set up at prisons in Colorado, Illinois, Kansas, Maine, Massachusetts, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Washington, and Wisconsin. Stoga, who worked for former New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani on a commission that found summer jobs for inner city kids, brought her Puppies Behind Bars idea to the state Department of Corrections. ''They realized that this would provide rehabilitation and education for inmates, as well as allowing inmates to perform a terrific community service,'' Stoga said. It's funded entirely from private individuals and foundations, meaning no burden on taxpayers, Stoga said. The program is now in three New York prisons Bedford Hills, Fishkill, and Mid-Orange as well as the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility in New Jersey and a federal prison in Danbury, Conn. At any given time, there are about 45 dogs in the program. About 175 inmates have participated. Most of the dogs are destined for guide work, but some will go to the New York Police Department or the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms to be trained as drug- or bomb-detection dogs. The puppies are bred by Guiding Eyes for the Blind and Guide Dog Foundation. Most are Labrador retrievers, but a few are Labradoodles a cross between a poodle and a Labrador bred for its hypoallergenic coat. Inmates must have an excellent behavior record to be accepted as puppy raisers. Stoga leads mandatory weekly instruction, which includes work in a classroom and with the dogs. Inmates are given homework and tests covering a broad range of topics, including veterinary care. ''Gloria's tough,'' said an inmate named Jordan, who has been in prison for 22 years. ''She makes you do things as many times as it takes to get it right, whether it's teaching sit and down, or learning the protocol for diarrhea and ear infections.'' Puppies are eight weeks old when they enter the prison. They're with inmates 24 hours a day. Volunteers outside the prison periodically take dogs out for more socialization. Jordan, who is serving 20-years-to-life for second-degree murder, said the work takes patience and caring. ''You have to set them up for success,'' he said. ''You've got to do something they know, and reinforce that. You can't expect miracles.'' Tom, a tall man with a military-style crew cut and a soft voice, said the puppy program is a welcome relief from the tension and negativity of prison life. ''This work has taught me to be patient, to be loving, caring, responsible,'' Tom said, stroking his fourth puppy, Marianne, in the noisy cell block common room during lunch. ''The bond between us is we're on the same level, you know? I can tell what she wants, just from eye contact and body language,'' Tom said. ''My focus is always on her, from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep. I make everything positive for her.'' The downside is, after 12 to 18 months, it's hard to say goodbye. ''When I gave up my first dog, I cried. I missed her so much,'' said Tom, who is serving 11 years for robbery and attempted murder. ''If you can get in touch with your emotions in an environment like this, if you're able to cry, you're human. It doesn't make me less of a man.'' The inmates put in long hours working with their puppies, including outdoor exercise and a lot of handling. ''Three times a day, we give full-body massages to form a bond and make sure the dog is comfortable with being touched as it will be by a blind person,'' Tom said. As they walk down paths between buildings and exercise yards, the men practice techniques for getting the dogs to walk on a loose leash, giving lots of praise and high-pitched happy talk. In an exercise yard, 42-year-old Rene ''Tony'' Garcia of the Bronx sat in the grass as his puppy gamboled around him. Garcia was illiterate when he was convicted of armed robbery. During 15 years behind bars, he has not only learned to read, but has also been certified as a veterinary assistant and a Braille transcriber. ''My first puppy became an ATF bomb-sniffing dog,'' he said. ''The second is a guide dog. My third was a Labradoodle; she's in guide school. This is my fourth, Mi Vida. She's bilingual, English and Spanish.'' Vincent Vacante, 39, is serving 18 years to life for homicide. His face is scarred from mouth to ear where he was slashed by an inmate at a prison upstate. The view of green hills through the razor-wire-topped chain-link fences at Fishkill is a big change from the solid, high walls that surrounded him for 15 years at maximum security facilities. Working with his puppy, Mikaela, offers a degree of redemption, Vacante said. ''I can't make up for what I did out there. There was a dispute, and a guy lost his life,'' Vacante said. ''I'm not doing this to get a nice letter in my folder. I'd just love to see her become a guide dog. That's my mission.'' |
advertise
|
privacy policy
|
add URL
|
about us
|
terms/disclaimer
|
contact us
|
join our team
|
help
Comments:
No comments have been posted for this article.
Login to let us know what you think