Back-chaining

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April 27, 2015

A behavior chain is an event in which units of behavior occur in sequences and are linked together by learned cues. Back-chaining, which means teaching those units in reverse order and reinforcing each unit with the cue for the next, is a training technique. We use this technique to take advantage of the intrinsic nature of the event.

Thanks to Karen Pryor, from her Clicker Training website: www.clickertraining.com.

This was my chain:

1. I received an email from Tammy with the dates of our next monthly visit to the UP prisons. That was my initial "cue."
2. I accompanied her on the long drive north.
3. We worked with the inmate raisers and their puppies, and sometimes furloughed puppies.
4. I took photographs and notes.
5. I returned home to process the photographs and notes.
6. I wrote and published blog posts.

Each event in my chain was cued and reinforced by the previous event. Getting Tammy's email meant that soon we'd be meeting on I-75; driving north meant we'd soon be working with the guys and puppies; taking photos and notes meant I was getting ready to return home and process them; getting that work done meant I could write and publish my posts.

MY CHAIN IS BROKEN.

Here are some breaks in my chain:

Step 1. Emails from Tammy stopped after September 2014, when Leader Dogs for the Blind stepped in to get a handle on what was happening in the growing-too-fast program. While it is true that I received emails from Leader Dogs (I was, after all, allowed to accompany Deb during her October and December 2014 visits, and later, Tammy and I were asked to cover the January and March 2015 visits), communications were not consistent. I have no clear definition of what to expect in the future.

Step 5. Too often when I returned home life got in the way and I was unable to get right at the photo and note processing.

Step 6. I was not consistent in publishing posts! The more "behind-er" I got the more overwhelmed I felt; the more overwhelmed I felt the less motivated I felt, even though I challenged myself a few times to catch up.

So, I'm going to try "back-chaining" to build myself a new chain. I'm going to start at where we are today, and work backwards until I bring things back to where I left off in 2014.

Here we go...wish me luck!

 

Supposed to do

September 11, 2014

Chippewa

What I was supposed to do while Tammy did the new puppy paperwork was greet all the teams and evaluate the puppies' weights. What I ended up doing (mostly) was field questions from the men. They wanted to know why there were changes, why Deb Donnelly would be coming next month instead of Tammy. (See my post 'On my pledge" from December 3.)

I explained how the prison puppy-raising program has grown, maybe too quickly. For it to be successful in its growth, it needs the oversight of a full-time paid employee. Leader Dogs for the Blind will be hiring someone in January, but for now Deb would be taking over to get a good sense of how things work.

FLD Bandit seems to be listening as intently as his handler.

"Are you two ever coming back?" the men asked.

That was a complicated question. Leader Dog pulled the volunteer puppy counselors from the prisons, but gave me permission to tag along with Deb so I could continue to document things. (Luckily, everyone agrees that telling the story is important.) As for the reinstatement of counselors, that is an unknown, and will likely depend on what the new hire decides to do. Tammy and I have always been aware that a change might occur in 2015. It just came a bit sooner, taking us by surprise.

The men weren't happy that we were being replaced. I reminded them that they would benefit from having "the best" (Deb) work with them. Ro said, "But we have a relationship with you guys."

Ro has a relationship with FLD GeeGee, too. She has captured his heart. "She's spoiled," he says. Ro says she was already housebroken when he got her. "She came to me already trained!"

I only managed to feel the ribs of FLDs Coda, Adell, Andie, Ashley and Harley (Henry's brother). Tammy rescued me and finished checking FLDs Teysen, GeeGee, Bandit and Chewy. She glanced at the clock. It was already ten minutes to five. There would be no time for training. She promised the guys we'd be back one more time before the end of September so we could do the work we didn't have time for today. Ro said, "I'll hold you to that!"

Tammy talks to the men after helping me check the puppies' weights. She brought the 2014 Leader Dogs for the Blind poster to share.

Many of the men were concerned about the future of this blog. Would I still be able to write it? While they don't have access to my blog, their families do; one raiser said his wife reads it all the time. I assured them that I had Leader Dog's blessing to continue, that I'd do my best to return with Deb in the following months.

Tammy glanced up at the clock again. It was 5:30! So, we'd be late for dinner at the Antlers. Two outside raisers were meeting us there with their puppies, and two volunteers were handling FLDs Chewy and Andie on furlough. Afterwards, we would have a training session at a local school. 

Scott (left) is holding FLD Hershel (who will be going to Baraga) and Doug (right) is stroking the head of FLD Chewy. We say good-bye to Scott as he will be paroled before Tammy and I get back to Chippewa in two weeks.

On my pledge

December 3, 2014

Home

Tomorrow, FLD Henry and I head north with Deb Donnelly, Puppy Development Supervisor at Leader Dogs for the Blind, and FLD Valor, the German Shepherd puppy she is currently raising. She will also have two little puppies that are destined for raising at the Baraga Correctional Facility.

First we stop at the Chippewa Correctional Facility, where Deb will conduct a training session with the teams. We will leave with FLD Ashley (she is due to return to Leader Dog for her formal training), and spend an overnight somewhere between Kincheloe and Baraga. (Keep in mind we'll have two little puppies, our own two puppies and Ashley.)

Second stop, Baraga Correctional Facility, where Deb will hand the two new puppies over to their raisers and conduct another training session. When we depart, we will take FLDs Axel and Bear with us, the first two puppies to come to the facility. It is their time also to return to Leader Dogs for the Blind for training. Another night on the road, again with five, albeit older, puppies.

Wish us luck.

And then forgive me, readers. I confess that I hit the wall in my blog-catching-up marathon. I have not fulfilled my pledge.

This blog IS "caught up" through August 2014, but no further. Write as I might, I found there is too much to share (and too many photos to process) to zip through without giving the story the attention it deserves.

You may have noticed no mention of puppy counselor Tammy in the above itinerary. Late in August we learned that the Leader Dog prison program has been suffering from a good problem - it has grown too quickly! Three prisons in Iowa, one each in Minnesota and Wisconsin, and three now in Michigan (one in Jackson started earlier in the year), plus, two more correctional facilities in Michigan (one in the UP and one in mid-Michigan) are waiting to get started. 

Who knew? Being successful is great, but it can still be a problem.

Leader Dog had budgeted to hire a dedicated staff person to oversee the prison puppy-raising program, but that position would not be filled until January of 2015. The program needed someone right away. There were no "official" Leader Dog protocols in place for things like furloughs and prison-readiness. Puppy counselors at the facilities already on line were doing the best they could, but it became clear that consistency was lacking. It was too much for just volunteers to handle.

So, effective October 1, Leader Dog assigned Deb Donnelly the task of assessing the situation (and taking over the monthly visits) until the new person came on board. Puppy counselors were pulled, but fortunately I was invited to continue documenting the program.

Thus, Tammy and I had our last UP prison visit together in September. I promise to post about that trip (or, as it turned out, our trips).

In October, Deb scheduled her prison visits to start in Iowa; she came to the UP via Minnesota and Wisconsin. FLD Henry and I met her in Baraga and followed along to Chippewa. I will post about this journey as well.

In November, a family trip precluded my going to the UP with Deb. I thought the break would be enough for me to catch up! Not so. To the inmate raisers (who cannont access this blog, except through their families), I offer my sincerest apology. Can you bear with me? Because I will continue...

Where are we?

June 20, 2014

Chippewa

Most times, I forget where we are. I forget that we are amongst a bunch of convicted criminals, they seem much more like sons and grandsons to me. We share puppy stories and figure out problems together. The men are open and not afraid to ask questions about the health and behavior of their Future Leader Dog puppies.

As Tammy goes over FLD Andie's puppy raising contract with Abe, I distribute Frontline to the teams. Once a month our puppies need a flea and tick preventative applied. They also take HeartGuard, a monthly heartworm pill, but these are kept on site for the raisers to give to the pups on the first of the month. Tammy brings the Frontline up from Leader Dogs for the Blind.

Each team is given the choice to apply the Frontline fluid down the back of their puppy themselves, or have me do it. Most of them want to do it, but when I get to FLD Sammy's team, Ro says, "Sammy wants you to do it." I don't mind. The hardest thing about it is opening the packaging.

The shape of the plastic applicator reminds me of a long-necked modern electric guitar. It is a small triangle with a long stem, which is easy enough to snap open, but first you have to get it out of the hard-to-open foil and plastic package. If you are not careful you can break the applicator with the packaging. Squirting medicine all over your hands instead of putting it on your puppy is an expensive waste.

"I need a knife," I say to Sammy's team without thinking, struggling to open the Frontline. Tim says, "Want me to get mine?" I'm about to say, "Sure, that would be great," when the next guy puts his foot on a chair and acts like he is pulling a knife out of his sock.

All the men laugh when I realize that of course they have no knives! I hesitate even writing this, because after all, it is a prison. Joking about a knife in prison feels a little bit like making a bomb joke in an airport.

ARUS Rob comes over. No, he doesn't frisk us for knives. He uses one of his keys to open the Frontline.

                                                                       

And just for a relief from my words, here are a couple of puppies!

FLD Ekco waits his turn to get "Frontlined."

FLD Bandit doesn't look pleased with the prospect.

What changes they bring

March 7, 2014

Baraga

Interest in the Leader Dogs for the Blind prison puppy-raising program is spreading. Two COs from the Ojibwa Correctional Facility came to observe our training session at Baraga. ARUS Tammy told them, "We knew it would make a difference, but we didn't realize it would be that quick." She added that there had been no grievances, complaints or tickets in two months. "When Copo came into the building, everything changed," she said.

FLD Copo must be one special pup.

Two weeks after our March visit, one of FLD Copo's raisers was faced with a decision. Ryan got news that he was finally accepted into a program that he had been hoping to get into, but that meant he would be transferred to a facility downstate. He had to choose between that program and the puppy-raising program.

A comment on this blog's "Baraga Correctional Facility" page stated that Ryan used "a cognitive decision making skill to weigh the pros and cons of taking the transfer." Ryan loved FLD Copo and enjoyed being part of the puppy-raising team. But Ryan has a son, a son he will likely be able to see when he is moved downstate.

ARUS Tammy said Ryan has changed. She said when he first came into the puppy-raising program some of the other raisers weren't excited to work with him. Now all the teams say they will miss him. "It has been amazing," she said. "I know he will leave prison and not come back because of the skills he learned in the Leader Dogs prison puppy raiser program."

Ryan and FLD Copo share a snuggle.

Breaking news

March 18, 2014

Rochester Hills, Michigan

ANNOUNCER: We interrupt these irregularly scheduled blog posts to bring you a breaking news story. Fifteen new Leader Dogs were issued to their partners today at the Leader Dogs for the Blind facility in Rochester Hills, Michigan.

These pups were whelped in volunteer host homes, raised by other volunteers for about one year, and then advanceed through four to five months of challenging job training.

Today the dreams of all the volunteers and trainers are fulfilled. Today the dogs are introduced to their forever person; they move into the Polk Residence at Leader Dogs for the Blind. For the next 26 days, the dogs and their new handlers will begin the bonding process and learn to work as a team.

FLD Dutch on his return to Leader Dogs.

One dog in particular is of interest to this audience.

[Drum roll please.]

Congratulations to Leader Dog Dutch!
raised by patti brehler

[Clap and cheer!]

Patti, can you tell us how you are feeling right now?

PATTI: I always hate these kind of questions. How do I feel? How does the sun shine?! My insides are trembling, my face hurts from smiling, my heart is about to burst. See me? I am doing a happy dance!

ANNOUNCER: But, isn't it hard to give up the puppy you raised for a year?

PATTI: It is not easy. When I brought Dutch back to Leader Dogs last November, just about one year after picking up that fuzzy ball of puppy breath, I cried. It never gets easier. If it were easy, everyone would be raising puppies for Leader Dogs. Those of us who can, do. And we do it again and again and again.

Yes, it is sad to say good-bye to that creature that's been at the end of your left arm for so long. And after you say good-bye, the waiting will drive you crazy if you think on it too long. You wonder if it is possible to hold your breath for four or five months. You dread the phone call that sometimes comes from Leader Dogs. "Your puppy has been career-changed."

But. Then you get this email:

Dear puppy raiser, The puppy you raised has been issued to a student in the current class.

This little email makes it all worthwhile. And then, if all goes well, you meet the new team. Priceless.

ANNOUNCER: Is there anything else you'd like to add?

PATTI: When have I never had something more to say? [LOL]

Raising a puppy for Leader Dogs for the Blind is not a solo exercise. I couldn't have raised Dutch without the help of too many people to name. I'll try. I want to thank my family and friends, my community, everyone, especially...

My husband Andy for his unending support (and carpet cleaning).

Andy with his morning coffee. Dutch is resting under his legs.

My sister Anne & Co. (her three daughters) for puppy-sitting and believing in me.

Two of my nieces help FLD Dutch learn to appreciate the tuba.

My family for listening to all my Leader Dog-this and Leader Dog-that talk.

Andy's daughter and her husband hang out with FLD Dutch.

The Ogemaw County Voice for publishing my articles about Dutch and Leader Dogs.

Grange and Kathy, publishers and owners of the Ogemaw County Voice are happy to have FLD Dutch stop by their display table at an Art and Wine Walk in downtown West Branch.

My puppy counselor Tammy for always lending an ear, and for asking me to come to the U.P. with her.

Tammy and a Chippewa inmate raiser practice a meet & greet with FLD Dutch...who performs perfectly!

Deb for teaching me how to wait (and for joining the "Cackle Club.")

FLD Dutch finally settles next to Deb during last year's puppy counselor training at Leader Dogs for the Blind.

 
My fellow puppy-raisers for understanding.

FLD Dutch surveys the crowd during a training weekend at Leader Dogs for the Blind.

My dog Gypsy for keeping Dutch in line.

Gypsy snarls at FLD Dutch for going after Andy's shoes. (Or maybe for just getting too close to her!)

My career-changed dog Gus, for allowing Dutch to drag him around.

FLD Dutch wrestles Gus to the floor.

The Bardsleys for raising Dutch's dad, Alphie (and helping to get puppies into the Chippewa Correctional Facility).

At the Chippewa Correctional Facility. From left to right, ARUS Rob, Deb with cc'd Tripp and FLD Strider, Tammy with FLD Harper, patti with FLD Dutch, and Paula and Dave Bardsley. The beginning of Leader Dogs' U.P. prison puppy raising program.

The Rose City Cafe and the New Sunrise Cafe and all their regulars for putting up with Dutch's barking phase.

Staff at the Rose City Cafe pose with a young FLD Dutch

FLD Dutch with the owners of the New Sunrise Cafe.

The regulars at the New Sunrise Cafe say good-bye to FLD Dutch.

Mrs. Matthews' second-graders at Surline Elementary for knowing when to pet him and when to ignore him.

Mrs. Matthews' second-grade class pose with FLD Dutch at the West Branch Greenhouse just before Mother's Day, 2013.

ANNOUNCER: Excuse me, but we are running out of space and we need to get back to our irregular blog posts.


PATTI:                THANK YOU ALL!

 *With apologies for leaving anyone out.

Honey works

After training

January 30, 2014

"I'm allergic," the woman explained, looking down over her shoulder at FLDs Kayla and Harper.

Kim and Judy and Tammy and I were being seated for dinner at the puppy-friendly Applebee's in the Soo after our training session at the Chippewa Correctional Facility. The woman wanted the puppies to be positioned on the opposite side of our table, furthest from where she had her back to us.

Unfortunately we had three pups, so at least one would still be behind her. She had not seen a sleepy little FLD Copo cradled in my arms. The busy restaurant was packed. The four of us looked at each other; we did not feel like getting into an educational scene about the importance of allowing access to puppies-in-training.

"Can you seat us somewhere else?" we asked the hostess.

The table in the far corner where we ended up was a squeeze, but being away from the action was actually a better choice for our tired puppies. I placed my coat on the floor between my chair and the wall. FLD Copo snuggled in for the duration. Harper and Kayla settled nicely in a heap under the table. We four gals shared stories, ate and laughed together.

As we finished, the allergic woman approached our table. "I just want to thank you for moving," she said. "Your dogs are soooo good!" she added as an afterthought, when none of the puppies stirred.

I remember the old days when smoking was prolific in public places, including restaurants. I have asthma, and allergies too, and although I often would have liked to ask someone to move away from me, I was timid, expecting to be ignored. Or worse.

This woman politely asked us to consider her condition and we acquiesced with no real consequence to us. Her subsequent gratitude and recognition of our well-behaved puppies was a pleasant surprise.

Who could resist this face? FLD Copo gazes at the camera in our hotel room. Behind him is FLD Harper and Tammy.

And I set my camera down

Chippewa

January 30, 2014

Our training plan - Tammy would take the older puppies and their handlers into the other classroom for AKC CGC (Canine Good Citizen) testing. I would run a "puppy" class with the growing group of younger pups.

Fortunately, Tammy suggested this prior to our visit so I had time to consult with Laura Fisher, Puppy Development Coordinator at Leader Dogs for the Blind. Laura teaches the under-four-months group at the bi-monthly training sessions held on the Leader Dog campus. The weekend classes, offered to all puppy raisers, are divided into three age groups, the under-four-months, four-to-nine-months (taught by Deb Donnelly), and over-nine-months (taught by Tammy). Other puppy counselors and volunteers assist as needed.

Laura was kind enough to send me a long list of information that she covers in two days: expectations, name recognition, sit, reward markers, touch, around, loose leash walking, leave it, relaxation protocol and down. I would only have an hour or two.

I set my camera down. My mouth was dry as I stood in the middle of the room gripping my list, all eyes on me. I am not used to taking the lead.

Off to my right, an excited FLD Kayla was not at all interested in what I was about to say. She jumped up on Kim's legs. The inmate who was handling Kayla said, "Off!" The pup dropped to four-on-the-floor. The inmate "clicked" and gave Kayla a treat.

I folded up my list and put it into my pocket. The topic for my puppy class had just defaulted to "reward markers."

A "marker," as defined on the Karen Pryor Clicker Training website, is "a signal used to mark desired behavior at the instant it occurs." The marker can be a "click" or a word such as "YES" and it acts as a bridge between the precise behavior and delivery of the subsequent reward.

These motivated Chippewa inmates have educated themselves with books on positive dog training, many of which they purchased with their own money. Deb and Tammy and I have been impressed with the work they've done with their puppies. Even though I sometimes feel only a step ahead of the group (the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know), I thought I still might be able to help them bring their knowledge up a notch. I would raise the criteria for them, much as we do with our puppies when they learn a new behavior.

What ensued was a lively discussion about how the (mis) timing of a marker might inadvertently reinforce the behavior we don't want instead of the behavior we want, about waiting for the reward-able moment when the puppy makes the right decision on its own and marking that, about how the behavior "sticks" when the puppy is rewarded for choosing the correct behavior instead of responding to a command, about how proper placement of the reward can set the stage for learning.

A thinking puppy, accustomed to making decisions - this is the kind of puppy that Leader Dogs for the Blind wants us to raise.

Kim proved to be a good foil. "She's been doing that a lot lately," she said about Kayla's jumping up behavior. Kim admitted that she has done the same thing, telling Kayla "off" and rewarding her for putting four feet back onto the floor.

"How's that working for you?" I asked. "Not so good," Kim replied.

It was time to try something different. I suggested ignoring the jumping behavior, to wait until Kayla put her four feet on the floor on her own. "Mark and reward that moment," I said. "And try placing the treat on the floor instead of handing it to the puppy. The behavior you reward will be the behavior that will be repeated. Trust that."

The active interaction with the group helped me gain confidence. I hope the raisers gained something as well.

 

Puppy-less evening

Baraga

January 9, 2014

three puppy-less puppy-raisers

in a Baraga hotel

with nowhere to go to

and no one to tell

in a Baraga hotel

they got a little silly

with stories to tell

their thoughts went willy-nilly

so they got a little silly

and lost track of the time

plans to eat went willy-nilly

three puppy-less puppy-raisers

Okay, so I got bogged down with words that rhyme in my poor attempt to write a "pantoum" poem. Why not just get right to it...

Deb and Tammy left FLDs Jedi and Harper for the night with inmate raisers in the Baraga Correctional Facility. Our plan was to revisit the prison in the morning. The men were sure to have questions after their first night caring for FLDs Axel and Bear.

With no puppy wrestling for entertainment, and a feeling like we had lost our left arms, we just hung out together, reading or surfing the web. (I don't go many places without my Apple laptop.)

Our earlier conversation about how the prison puppy-raising program might be changing my life bounced in my head. Like everything else surrounding this program, I serendipitously came across this article: "How Knitting Behind Bars Transformed Maryland Convicts." Co-founder Lynn Zwerling, a retired car saleswoman, thought that teaching inmates the "Zen of knitting" could help them learn life skills - like how to focus and accomplish goals.

What struck me was one inmate who expressed the feeling that Zwerling was like a mother to him.

"That's it!" I exclaimed to Deb and Tammy. I had been struggling with how to describe my attraction to these men-turned-into-boys-with-puppies. Their unconscious smiles while touching the puppies. Their polite behavior and graciousness toward us. The whole idea of puppies and inmates growing together.  "It's like a motherly feeling," I said.

FLD Bear gets a head scratch.

The maternal feelings took me by surprise. Even though I'm a self-professed "evil stepmother" (my husband has four kids and two grandsons) I've never had children of my own.

Here I am...

I find myself invested in their efforts. I want the inmate raisers to raise a nice puppy for Leader Dogs for the Blind and learn some things in the process. Perhaps whatever led them to a life of crime can be mitigated by this experience. The act of giving up their puppies when the time comes holds the potential to become an emotional "trigger" for them. I hope that someone in the prison system recognizes this window of opportunity in addressing deep-seated issues. Helping the inmates deal with these issues could be a real game changer.

Deb and Tammy and I lost track of time. We needed to decide what to do about dinner. Staying in the room and finishing the one pound cinnamon roll wasn't an option. We could drive back to the Hilltop Family Restaurant in L'anse or we could take the elevator down and eat in the hotel. No one seemed willing to make a commitment.

"I don't really feel like going out," I ventured, my brain bursting. "Great!" Deb seconded. The hotel restaurant it was.

Dog spelled backwards

January 9, 2014

He said that we are role models, both for him and for the other inmate raisers. He said that Tammy and I are role models because we volunteer - for Leader Dogs for the Blind and the prison puppy-raising program. Another inmate raiser sitting nearby nodded his head and said, "Don't underestimate that."

I can't quite wrap my mind around the notion.

I help because I can. I help because it is fun - for a lot of reasons. I love going to the UP, I enjoy Tammy's company and friendship (and Deb's too, when she joins us), I keep learning about dog behavior and training. And, of course, I adore puppies!

But, a role model? It never entered my mind, beyond trying to be as accurate as possible in my training suggestions. (Remember "leg?" The inmate raisers pay attention to everything we say.)

On our drive across the UP from Chippewa to Baraga to deliver the facility's first two puppies, we stop at the Hilltop Family Restaurant in L'anse. For once, we are a little early. Over the world's largest cinnamon roll (yes, more than one pound, no, we couldn't finish it!), I share my inmate story with Deb and Tammy. I say I am not sure if or how my involvement with this program has changed my life.

"It's changed my life," Deb says. She says that she had never been in a prison before working this Leader Dog program. She says she has witnessed the inmates' demeanor open up overnight, after bringing puppies to them in the afternoon and visiting again the next morning. She says she has never visited the UP until these trips. And she says she enjoys our developing friendship.

"It has changed your life too," Deb says to me. "Even if you don't realize it."

Until my chat with the inmate raiser I had not thought very hard about the idea that my life might be changing. Like Deb, I had never seen the inside of a prison before visiting the Chippewa Correctional Facility last July. Until now, my only contact with convicted criminals has been with those in our local "Sheriff's Work Crew;" men and women clad in neon yellow vests and electronic tethers as they assist various groups in our community.

I find myself trying not to think about what the men might have done that landed them in prison. Thinking about it only leads me to wonder how the victims feel about the inmates participating in the puppy-raising program. But these men are serving time that our society has decreed to be just; do these same men not deserve a chance to turn themselves around?

I prefer to concentrate on the positive. I want to believe in justice, forgiveness and redemption. I do believe in the power of puppies to make the world a better place.

After all, dog spelled backwards is "god."

FLD Bear, bringing hope.

Changing lives

Puppies do that.

Ask anyone involved with the Leader Dogs for the Blind prison puppy-raising program. Prison officials, Leader Dogs for the Blind staff, volunteers, inmate raisers and their families all feel that the program is life changing.

Can one assume that raising and training a puppy teaches patience? That loving and caring for a puppy teaches empathy? That returning a puppy to Leader Dogs after spending 24/7 with it for a year teaches a little something about loss and sacrifice?

These things may all be true; in fact, one inmate raiser told me that raising a puppy for Leader Dogs is teaching him patience. But not just the patience that an outside raiser might also learn, things like realizing that puppies really don't pee on the floor in front of you just to spite  you, or that it's hard sometimes to wait for the "reward-able" moment when your puppy is busy behaving on instinct.

No, this inmate raiser said that the patience he is learning has more to do with his reaction to other inmates, the ones who aren't supportive of the program. He didn't go into specifics, but the inference was that these other inmates copped an attitude that raised his ire. He said that in the past he might have gotten into a fight over it.

"But now when I get angry, I just look at him," he said, placing a hand gently on his puppy's back. He said that the puppy helps him realize what is really important, what the ultimate goal of raising the pup will do for a stranger.

Much like his puppy, he's learning self-control and redirection.

FLD Axel looks up at his handler. Deb once told the potential inmate raisers that she believed one reason why prison raised puppies are more successful is because the inmates raisers need the puppies as much as the puppies need them.

How has the Leader Dogs for the Blind prison puppy-raising program changed your life? Please feel free to leave a comment!