by Stacy E. Smith
Every once in a while this job puts me in a position to experience things that most people don’t. They can be relatively little things such as a first peek at the white tiger in the KC Zoo or free dog toys. Sometimes the experiences are much bigger, like being able to help find a new home for a discarded pet now and then, petting a cougar, or being treated like a rock star on Johnny Dare’s morning radio show. Every once in a while however, something happens that really touches you. Something really unexpected.
Let me backtrack a little bit. A little over a year ago Toby Young was diagnosed with cancer. Not very remarkable in and of itself. Plenty of people get that news every day. And, like many faced with their own mortality, Toby started to re-evaluate her life. Her husband, a fireman, made a difference every day through his work and Toby had always been envious of that. Her life’s work was designing computer systems and, although she knew what she did was helpful to a handful of people, it didn’t change the world. Being a realist, Toby knew that there were no guarantees in life and her days might be numbered. It was now or never as far as she was concerned. She was going to change the world…a little at a time, but whether she had a year to live or 70, she was going to change some lives first.
What to do? To her, an obvious choice was something related to dogs. They had always been her passion and she had even volunteered for a couple of rescue groups. She decided to start her own. After all, they had plenty of property to get started. Why not?
And so it began. Safe Harbor had a founder, a cool name and was ready to save dogs. But Toby soon found out that there was much more to do than she had bargained for. There were way too many dogs to have at her place. She needed foster homes, a critical component to any rescue organization. Again she was faced with the problem of “what to do?” Then it hit her. A prison dog program!
On Friday, August 13, 2004, Toby entered Lansing Correctional Facility with seven dogs that had been scheduled for euthanasia at a local animal shelter. She had no idea what to expect; she had never been to a prison before. Nonetheless, she steeled herself, walked in and handed the first dog over to the first Safe Harbor handler – an inmate at the prison, a convicted criminal. The timid black dog named Annie cringed and cowered low to the ground. The inmate asked Toby if the dog had been abused. Not knowing the dog’s history, Toby told the inmate that it seemed likely based on the dog’s behavior. The man gathered Annie in his burly arms, buried his face in her fur and cried for her. Toby knew immediately the program was going to be a success.
Several months ago, Toby and I began emailing each other. I made promises about scheduling some time to come out to the prison and do an article about the program. I wasn’t particularly excited about it; we do this stuff all the time. Sometimes the subject matter seems like a lot of fun and sometimes more like an obligation. This felt obligatory to me at first. In May I met Toby at the Pet Expo. Safe Harbor, like many other rescue groups, had a booth there. Meeting her and talking to her face to face piqued my interest a little more and we spoke again of coming out to the prison soon. Though the promise still had a “Let’s do lunch” quality, I was more certain that we should do it soon instead of waiting until some other undetermined decade. Toby and I spoke several more times about several other things and finally scheduled our interview in Lansing. She emailed the many rules about what we could not bring into the prison and what we could not wear. The list was long. She also informed me that we would be subject to a background check and she hoped we wouldn’t mind. Neither Dale nor I had a criminal history, so we didn’t see that as a problem.
Dale and I drove to the prison commenting periodically to one another about the prison films “The Shawshank Redemption” and “Papillon.” Neither of us had been to a prison before and didn’t know what to expect. I will tell you (those that have never been to LCF before) that it does not disappoint. It is very old and made of stone walls topped with razor wire. A menacing and dreary thing. It was just as we expected. Just like you see in the movies.
When we entered the visitor’s center we emptied our pockets and went through the metal detectors. We signed in, put on our visitor badges, had our hands stamped with ink invisible to the naked eye but could be seen under an ultra-violet light; the same type of stamp used in night clubs and amusement parks, but this place was neither.
We walked through several doors and out into the yard. We were surrounded by razor wire, armed guards in towers high above us. We walked past the cell blocks, the well-maintained grass and the very large weightlifting area that looked strikingly similar to the one at Muscle Beach in Venice, CA. All in all the whole area could have been mistaken for a school campus of some sort. There were few men out in the yard and those we saw pass us wore blue jeans and denim work shirts. They were actually friendlier than the ladies I often pass while taking my morning walk in Loose Park. It was not what I expected.
Toby and one of the prison’s staff members dedicated to the Safe Harbor program walked us up to a building in which we would meet approximately 20 inmate dog handlers and their wards (there are a total of 90 handlers and 65 dogs in the program at the moment). We wound up in a small auditorium with a stage, similar to the small drama theater in some high schools. I imagined the men hearing lectures there or putting on variety shows for one another. I have no idea what it is used for. It was there that Dale and I were introduced and the men were asked, at my request, to stand up one at a time and tell me a little about themselves and how the Safe Harbor program has affected them. Before they started talking I didn’t know if they wanted to do it or if they weren’t given a choice. When they began speaking I knew they were happy to tell their stories. It sounded like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, but instead of discussing how their sobriety changed their lives they spoke about how the dogs changed their lives. Like the dogs in their charge, they each had a checkered past; few were experiencing their first time in the penal system, most of them were there for violent offenses. As they spoke about how the dogs changed their existence I couldn’t help but wonder why there hadn’t been some opportunity for them before their lives had reached this point. They were suddenly proud of what they were accomplishing. They were excited to be able to teach these dogs to live with people – to be good pets and good canine citizens.
It was as if they were living vicariously through the dogs. They were able to give these dogs a chance at living a good and happy life. The parallel was uncanny. As they were teaching the dogs, they themselves were learning the same things. Together the men and dogs were learning appropriate behavior, communication skills, tolerance, trust and unconditional love (both giving and receiving). They each shared with us their story:
John Couch
He’s getting out in October. He said that having the dogs has been an incentive to be on his best behavior. He works for the in-house television station and is allowed to bring his dog with him to work. It means a lot to him.
Henry Cordera
He’s had twenty dogs since the program began. He said that he had abused animals as a kid and the program has helped him learn how to deal with animals and “has opened his heart to how lovely they are.” He gets out in a couple of months and wants to continue helping Safe Harbor.
Fitzgerald Blackwell
He’s new to the program and working with his 3rd dog. He’s glad to be able to take good care of animals. He’s learned that all dogs are loveable.
Tom Heavey
He’s on his 16th dog and has very personal reasons for staying with the program. He said that these dogs have been used and discarded and he really relates to that. The program has taught him a lot. He’s not shy about admitting to still being pretty angry and bitter, but this program has helped a lot with that. He’s been in prison for most of his adult life and is pretty hardened. He says, “This has helped soften him up; giving him the opportunity to coddle and cuddle.”
John Manard
This is all he has. He told us “Family and friends drop off after a while. All the good you have to give has no where to go, but you can give it to a dog.” He makes an extra effort to be good, but explained that before he was in the program it didn’t matter at all. It has had a huge impact on him and claims it even changes those in the prison that don’t like dogs.
Randy McIver
He’s been in for 13 years and the resident “hound expert.” He told us that he was “quite a knucklehead” and in and out of the hole all of the time. Now he’s never in trouble. He even adopted two of the dogs and sent them home to his family.
Les Ellifrits
He adopted the first dog he trained and sent it home to his mother. He’s learned to train each dog based on the dog’s individual personality. He says he’s developed affection where there was none before. He told us that he talks to more people than he used to and glad he’s able to interact with people in a way he never cared about before. The men collaborate on training and develop relationships with the dogs and one another.
Steve Beard
This program has given him a chance to share his love with a dog and give the dog a second chance at life. He adopted a miniature Poodle and gave it to his mother for Mother’s Day.
I.G. Wimbish
He said this has taught him responsibility, respect, tolerance & teamwork. “It touches you in a way you don’t expect. It builds character, self-esteem and communication skills,” he explained.
Rob Branson
Branson has been in the prison for 20 years. His first dog was a retired Greyhound with torn up feet. The dog’s feet were so sensitive to the hot pavement he decided to make her some leather moccasins. He can’t even count the number of dogs he’s worked with since that first dog. He also proudly adds that he’s raised plenty of puppies as well. He believes that “dogs make life so much happier. It’s one of the greatest things.” When asked about the sacrifices he has to make, he said “Sacrifices? Sacrifices don’t mean nothin’.” I sincerely hopes the prison allows this program for as long as he’s there.
Tommy Richards
Tommy has never had any responsibility before this. It is also teaching him patience. He’s been locked up most of his life and this really helps.
Bovi Lewis
He “owns” Rusty, an old dog that had little chance of finding a home. Bovi was asked by Toby if he would care for Rusty and he agreed. He says she likes to lay around and sleep most of the time, but he had never owned a dog before, so this was a good way to break him in. I asked if he would take another dog when Rusty passes on. He said, “I’ll be hurtin’ when this dog passes, but I’ll probably get another old dog.”
Michael Cote
Michael is working with a young but deaf dog. He says getting into the program has really helped him a lot. “I was real quiet and didn’t have a lot of patience. Its really opened up something inside me. It’s awesome having dogs.”
These dogs get attention from these guys 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. They go into the prison with behavior or emotional issues and come out as a well-trained pet worthy of any home. These men devote their lives to these dogs so they’re never discarded again. Unlike many of the inmates at the prison in Lansing, these dogs will have a second chance at a normal life. Without any evidence that the life they led was less than acceptable. These dogs ultimately become ambassadors to the society that discarded them in the first place.
Since that first day a year ago, Toby Young has taken more than 550 dogs into the Safe Harbor Prison Dog Program from shelters all over the Midwest. Every single dog lives with its handler and blossom into a pet. They are well-behaved, house-trained, and have the confidence of being cherished animals, not discarded rubbish.
I urge you to look at adopting a Safe Harbor dog into your family. You will be brining into your home not only a terrific pet, but the result of something truly special. Perhaps the dogs that leave the prison know that they carry with them a responsibility to prove to the outside world that they are worthy of being loved because of the love they shared with a human being in that prison and can now pass on to their new family.
Inside the Walls…
I am part of something good for once in my life.
Safe Harbor has given me some things I thought I’d never have again and some things I’ve never had before.
Well, in prison there’s not much to love – nothing really.
They have made parts of me come alive & feel after being dead for a long time.
I turn it around by not thinking of losing my dog, but of sending part of me out to freedom.
I feel human again and can give of myself.
For more information about the Safe Harbor Prison Dogs, where you can meet the dogs at their mobile pet adoptions or to help, go to www.safeharborprisondogs.com.
