Friday, August 13, 2010

Disabled vets in Texas get on with their lives with help from their service dogs

From The Houston Chronicle. In the picture, a "social butterfly" is how Javier Negrete describes his service dog, Cash, who helps him with tasks in his Pearland home. Negrete was injured in an ambush at an Iraqi market.


GATESVILLE, Texas — Sharon Cooper, a Houston woman serving 30 years in prison for embezzlement, wasn't quite sure what she was getting into when she signed up to train dogs with Patriot Paws. Maybe it was all about sitting up, rolling over and doing cute puppy tricks.

She quickly learned, though, that it was about much more: changing lives - her own and others'.

Cooper, 49, is one of 13 female inmates at the Texas Department of Criminal Justice's Crain Unit devoting their full time to training dogs to aid disabled military veterans. Ten more at the nearby Murray Unit also work in the program.

"I was in awe when I saw what these dogs did," Cooper said, adding that the training experience has given direction to her own life. "I never really had a passion in life. This could be my passion. This could be my career."

Many might be surprised at what Patriot Paws dogs, most of whom pretty much appear to be run-of-the-mill Rovers, can do.

These dogs - Barney, Parole, Memphis and the rest - are super-valets who can drop your dirty socks in the washer, fetch cold drinks from the fridge, bring your medicine or your trousers, open doors, gallop for help in emergencies and keep you steady on your feet and in your mind.

To the those who rely on them, they're best buddies, canine soulmates. To women such as Cooper, they're a heart-lifting chance to give back to society.

Eighteen dogs have been placed with owners since the Rockwall-based nonprofit, headed by veteran canine coach Lori Stevens, was chartered four years ago. Selected inmates at Gatesville prison units joined the effort as trainers in early 2008. Last year, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals crowned one of the program's graduates, Archie, a Labrador retriever, "Dog of the Year."

Melodye Nelson, Crain Unit's assistant warden, praised the program for giving incarcerated women a sense of self-worth.

"It blossoms them," she said. "The stigma is greater for women prisoners. They have more issues of self-confidence once they get out. It's harder to obtain jobs. ... The dogs have given them confidence. They see their ability to change lives, that positive impact, and they're able to carry that forward."

Dogs in the program spend up to two years with their inmate trainers, sleeping in cages next to the keepers' bunks. While other prisoners might work eight hours a day, five days a week, those responsible for the dogs never truly are off duty.

"If your puppy whimpers, you're required to take that puppy out," Nelson said. "These animals don't feed themselves. They have to be groomed, bathed and trained. They have to be walked. It's a full-time job, and I've not had one of these ladies ask me for a day off."

Women selected for the program must have achieved trusty status and have maintained a clean disciplinary record.

Cooper noted that dog training can present unusual challenges. One of her first charges barked 18 hours a day. Another had a "ball obsession," and, on one occasion, mistook a human visitor's hand for a ball.

Challenging, too, can be their sheer size. Though they often arrive as puppies, the full grown dogs must weigh 55 pounds or more to be able to stabilize the often mobility impaired people who ultimately will own them.

Favored breeds include Labrador retrievers and large poodles. They come from a variety of sources: shelters, rescues or donations.

Stevens, 52, who has trained dogs for more than two decades, launched Patriot Paws in an effort to help Dallas-area disabled vets. The program expanded to the Gatesville prison units through the interest of former TDCJ Chairwoman Christina Crain, a Dallas lawyer for whom the prison was named. Crain, Stevens said, was familiar with similar programs outside Texas.

At first, Stevens was nervous.

"I didn't know what to expect," she said. "You get goose bumps just walking in the gate. ...The first time we came down, we spent two weeks training the trainers. They were just a bunch of people who had made stupid mistakes. I met some amazing women. They're just like sponges soaking up knowledge."

Stevens said positive reinforcement is used to train the dogs to respond to voice and visual commands.

Once the dogs master dozens of basic skills, they are "customized" to care for their new owners. Ninety percent of the veterans who receive dogs suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder; some are amputees, others victims of head trauma.

"The dogs can open and close doors; get help in emergencies; pick up dropped items," Stevens said. "They do the laundry. They retrieve phones and medicine. They push emergency light switches. Now we have dogs who pull down zippers and pull off shoes and socks."

Patriot Paws, largely supported through donations, provides the dogs free. Close to 70 percent go to veterans.

Sgt. Clay Rankin, 48, a one-time Denver-area policeman who suffered toxic gas injuries in the Gulf War and head and back injuries in Iraq, now is bonding with his second Patriot Paws dog.

His first, Archie, died of a heart attack shortly after receiving dog of the year honors.

Rankin's new dog, Harley Davidson Rankin, is the veteran's "primary care giver."

"He's my independence," Rankin said.

Rankin, who works with the U.S. Army's Wounded Warrior Program, said the dogs are of special value to veterans who suffer from PTSD. "They're a social bridge," he said. "It gives people they meet something to talk about and helps the veterans meld back into society."

Brian Field, 36, of New Braunfels, who lost both legs below the knees to an Iraqi improvised explosive device, has had his current service dog, a full-blooded Labrador retriever, for four months.

Field struggled to articulate what the dog means to him, his wife and two teenage children.

"She's just become part of the family," he said.