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.

A caveat

Baraga Correctional Facility

January 9, 2014

FLD Bear was thirsty. When you spend as much time monitoring a puppy as I did with Bear the last 10 days, you learn to "read" his signals. Of course, it only made sense. Bear had just spent about five hours in his crate traveling across the UP in the Leader Dogs for the Blind van, was then welcomed by seemingly everyone at the facility and was now being handled by his new inmate puppy-raising team.

Heck, even I was thirsty by now!

But FLD Bear's new handler didn't understand why Bear was being squirmy. He had taken him out to "park" but still the pup wouldn't settle.

I said, "Do you have a bowl? I think he is thirsty."

In a shot, the inmate handed Bear's leash to his teammate and went off to get a water dish. He returned with a shiny stainless steel bowl and asked, "How much water should I put in it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Fill it up."

Turns out that FLD Bear wasn't the only thirsty puppy.

FLD Bear gets his head under FLD Jedi and is first to the bowl of water.

The two pups make quick work of the water, and not too neatly!

"Can you guess what's going to happen next?" I asked.

"He'll need to park," the inmate raisers answered in chorus. "Yep," I said. "Bear is a real good peer."

Sometime later, and not too much later, FLD Bear started to pull toward the door. He whined. His handler asked Tammy if he should take the pup out to park.

Too late!

FLD Bear tried to tell his handler he needed to go out, but he just couldn't hold it any longer.

The handler grabbed him up and ran outside. "He peed again!" he said after coming back in from the cold. But FLD Bear wasn't done. A clean up crew had three more puddles to sop up before the afternoon training session was over. 

"Patti warned you," Deb said.

"He needs to go out again!"

Inside

January 9, 2014

We entered Housing Unit 8 at the Baraga Correctional Facility, the celebrity feeling disappearing with a metallic CHA-CHINK. This was real life. Steve, several prison officials and a couple of correction officers escorted Deb and Tammy and I, and Dr. Donna LeClaire (the local veterinarian who is volunteering with the program) through dim narrow hallways filled with men hanging around waiting for something to happen.

We came into an area more open, an intersection of hallways. Men filed in behind and around us. One man approached me; he clasped his hands behind his back as if he were taking an afternoon stroll. "What kind of camera is that?" he asked, leaning over my shoulder. "A Nikon," I said and turned away to capture a shot of FLD Bear. The little guy was straining against his leash toward a large entry way that led obviously into a restroom.

The inmate shadowed me. "You know," he said, "you can point your flash to the ceiling and get more light that way."

"Yes," I said. He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know. I had taken a quick look at the shots from the other building and my camera settings didn't seem right. Most of the exposures were a little dark, and the flash was pointing up, so I thought a direct flash might work better. It wasn't until we were driving home the next day that I realized I neglected to synch the shutter speed with the flash.

I felt clumsy, and very small in the midst of tall men.

Deb had been talking with Steve about how she wanted to present the puppies to their new raisers. In Iowa prisons (where this program began), the raiser faces away when the puppy is brought in. Everyone else oohhhs and aahhhs while the puppy counselor lifts the bundle of fur over the inmate's shoulder. This elicits puppy-ear-licks and the bond begins.

Suddenly, Tammy and I realized our entourage was gone and she and I were alone amongst the inmates. I never saw where they went, but Tammy thought she knew which hall to take. I glanced around and spotted Dr. Donna standing against a wall, a group of men between us.

"Come on Donna," I motioned. "They went this way."

By the time we caught up to the group in the west side lunchroom, FLD Axel was busy washing the faces of his new team. Axel will live in this wing with his raisers; FLD Bear will live in the east wing. We ended up retreating to the east side lunchroom where "regular" inmates were hustled out so we could use the space. Deb had paperwork to complete and intended to conduct an initial training session with the three-person-teams of inmate raisers.

Steve instructed me that I was not to take photographs of any of the inmates that are not in the program. I erased the shots I snapped of FLD Bear near the bathroom, even though I felt sure that none of the inmates were identifiable. I didn't want to risk losing the privilege of documenting this program. Steve then asked the inmate raisers if they would sign waivers agreeing to allow me to take their pictures. A hearty "YES!" and a show of hands left no doubt that they were eager to appear in this blog.

"We can't see it," one of the men said to me when he asked for the blog's web address. "But we have families that can."

The Baraga puppy raisers have been patient in waiting for their story to be shown. Here is a start...

FLD Bear and his raisers mug for the camera. Do they look happy or what?

FLD Axel with his raisers. They kind of look happy too, eh?

FLD Harper is handled by another team of Baraga raisers. Harper looks as excited as they do!

Another team of inmate raisers handle Deb's current Leader Dog puppy, FLD Jedi.

FLD Jedi holds still for a meet & greet, compliments of a Baraga Correction Officer.

FLD Axel finds an opportune place to sit. A true Lab.

FLD Bear and his handler pay attention to Deb's lecture.

Deb instructs one of FLD Bear's raisers how to teach "touch." The other inmate raisers look on.

FLD Bear stretches forward to "touch."

Learning is hard work! FLD Axel takes a snooze.

Red carpet treatment

Baraga

January 9, 2014

RUM Steve meets Deb and Tammy and I in the parking lot of the Baraga Correctional Facility. "There are some people here eager to meet Bear and Axel," he says. I hand over FLD Bear. "If you set him down he'll park," I say. Like a good little Future Leader Dog, Bear parks immediately. Winter potty training is great - with snow everywhere the pups do not discriminate where they park.

Steve holds FLD Bear while Deb parks FLD Axel. We're here!

FLD Axel, at the end of Deb's leash, parks too. I miss this photo: Axel looks up at Steve and sits up in the cutest "beg " position, his big front paws curled against his chest. "Pick me up too!" he seems to say. "My paws are cold!" These little guys can't regulate their body temperatures very well against the sub-zero cold.

When we enter a small man door to the visitor entrance, I feel like a celebrity walking the red carpet into the Oscars. More than 20 people are lined up and clapping. Flashes from the camera of a L'anse Sentinel reporter capture our arrival. It doesn't take long to realize that these people aren't excited to see us; it is all about the puppies. FLDs Axel and Bear are passed around the room long enough that they have to go out and park again.

Happy Baraga staff pose with FLDs Axel and Bear.

FLD Axel might be done with all the attention.

Eventually the commotion and people disperse and we can attend to the business of clearing us for entry into the unit. Yes, I can bring my camera in. Yes, we can bring in the paperwork and supplies for the puppies. Yes, we can bring in FLDs Harper and Jedi. No, we cannot bring anything else in.

A guard leads a new prisoner in for processing into the facility. The man's ankles and wrists are shackled with chains wrapped around his waist. As he shuffles by he glances over at the puppies. Warden Mackie points him out to us and says, "Look at that. They usually come in here with hard faces."

Photo bomb! FLD Bear sticks his head into the picture, much to everyone's amusement. (Deb Donnelly is on the left side, standing next to Warden Mackie.)