On June 9, 2005, Gabby and Smokey received their parole from San Quentin after serving four weeks in that maximum security prison. They left behind their buddy, Sandy, who had more time left on her sentence. They also left behind four two-legged inmates who had been their friends, teachers and constant companions.
Smokey was in for excessive shyness, Gabby was also very timid and afraid of being indoors, while Sandy was still recovering from heartworm.
These three dogs were the first to enter a new program called Pen Pals of San Quentin. The program teaches specially selected inmates how to teach fundamental commands and help the dogs overcome special problems before they return to MHS to enter the adoption cycle. These pups need quality time with a person — and time is something the convicts have in abundance. The prisoners also proved to have big hearts that are definitely up to the job.
The program began when Larry Carson of the MHS behavior and training department, saw an Animal Planet Channel special called “Cell Dogs.” The Genesis Award-winning program tells the story of dogs placed with inmates for rehabilitation, and of the loving gifts the animals and men gave to each other.
Carson, a retired Marin County building contractor, felt that this would be an ideal project for MHS. When then-San Quentin Warden Jill Brown embraced the proposal, it moved forward with amazing speed.
The six prisoners, two per dog, who were the first Pen Pals volunteers, received careful screening for prior animal abuse. They also had demonstrated good behavior for several years and had only a short time to go on their sentences. These men all worked in the prison Fire House either as firefighters or emergency medical technicians.
Don Smith, Gabby’s handler, was excited on the day he first met his dog. “My only fear is that I want to do everything right. But we’re going to make this program work.”
On graduation day four weeks later, Smith was sad to see his pal go, but excited that Gabby had overcome her fearfulness and felt confident meeting people. “It took her about two days to calm down. I got down on the floor and laid with her and she slowly started trusting me.”
“I’m not an expert dog trainer,” Smith added, “I just gave her a lot of attention and made sure she got little treats.” Looking down at his friend, he said wistfully, “Every time we have chicken, she loves it because she gets half of mine.”
When Zachary Roth first met Smokey, the 10-month-old dog was very fearful. Roth knelt beside him and said, “It’ll be OK, boy. I was nervous my first day here, too.”
Four weeks later, Roth said, “He’s still skittish and it takes him a few minutes to trust you, but he has improved 300 percent.
Sandy’s handler, Ben Perry, said, “When she got here she wouldn’t quit barking or whining and jumping on everyone. She was out of control on the leash and was a little rough with play bites. She is on heartworm medication and had to learn to be calmer. So we had to do a lot of mind games, teach her tricks like ‘play dead’ and ‘roll over’ to exhaust her mind.”
Asked what Sandy had done for him, Perry said, “I’ve been here for about 2 years and you don’t get a lot of compassion, so it has been great for me to have Sandy.”
Echoing Perry’s sentiment, Roth said, “You don’t come to prison expecting to find unconditional love. Having a dog is like having a child. He just loves you no matter what.”
All of the handlers reported that the dogs have built bridges between themselves and the guards. “Some of them have come down here to see the dogs and all of a sudden they are talking to us kind of on the same level,” Perry said. “For a minute there, we’re all kind of one with the dog. It’s a good thing.”
Roth added, “Even the inmates who are tough guys, it’s hard to be tough when you’re talking to a dog. It kind of throws a wrench in that act.”
The Marin Humane Society long ago learned that animals have amazing healing powers and the ability to bring people out of their isolation. Volunteers from MHS routinely visit hospitals and hospices, taking their animals from room to room to visit patients. Smiles on the faces of the sick and hands slowly reaching out to make contact are the rewards. Thus, it was no surprise that dogs would be able to work very large magic with prisoners, too.
While MHS’s Pen Pals is the only such program in Northern California, others are working well in other states. Each of these projects report remarkably similar experiences.
At Nevada State Prison, where Puppies Up For Parole has been running for more than three years, the warden told Larry Carson that since the dogs arrived, there has been a 30 percent decrease in prison violence. When you went into the general population yard three years ago, you had to have an armed guard with you, he said. Now there are flower gardens, a koi pond and a much friendlier feeling, all because of the dogs.
Puppies Behind Bars operates in five New York women’s prisons and the dogs have helped remove the violence. “It is literally impossible to walk a puppy around without being stopped by inmates who want to pet the dogs or just say 'hi' to them,” says program initiator Gloria Stoga. “One of our particularly sensitive pups goes to several different areas of the prison: The 16- and 17-year-old inmates play with her; domestic violence classes use her to get the women to open up and talk; and she even visits inmates who are about to go before the parole board, for it has been found that her presence has a calming effect on the women.”
“Mansfield Prison in Ohio has had a similar program for some time,” said San Quentin’s Warden Brown. I spoke with the warden there and she said that having the dogs tended to humanize the entire prison environment, that it gave her inmates someone else to focus their attention on and made them more appreciative of life. It seems like such a small thing, having a dog, but it makes a big difference.”
Warden Brown hopes that the Pen Pals pilot project works well so that it can be expanded into other parts of the prison. MHS estimates that the Fire House location can handle 50–60 dogs in a year, but adding additional environment could greatly multiply that number.
But back to the fate of the first trio of dogs:
Sandy will stay another few weeks to complete her recovery, but Ben Perry has already submitted the paperwork to adopt her when he leaves San Quentin in July. He has a home on 15 acres waiting for Sandy.
A last-minute decision allowed Smokey to stay another week so that Zac Roth could continue building her confidence around people.
Gabby was adopted by Lori Green, Warden Brown’s secretary, and her husband Mark, who also works at San Quentin. Lori, Mark and their 8-year-old son Nate were at the parole ceremony to welcome their new dog into their family. “I saw a picture of Gabby and was immediately drawn to her, so we came down to see her, and that’s all it took,” Lori said. “Nate has been asking for a dog practically since he could talk. Last night, he had a talk with our cat to tell her that Gabby was coming.”
