"Recently I have had the amazing opportunity to work as an auxiliary dog handler in the Pen Pal program. In this program, full time inmate dog handlers socialize and train dogs selected from a shelter. My job is to help the full time handlers–to practice particular commands or tricks, to assist in training exercises, and to pet sit. The dogs are all mixed breeds and less than 40 lbs., but astonish me with their individuality and personalities. Each one is unique in temperament and learning style.

The dogs stay with us for a minimum of six weeks to learn the basic obedience. This time also gives the handler the time to discover and record any behavioral idiosyncrasies a dog might have. For example, some dogs are more aloof or do not play well with other animals. Some are barkers. Staff (civilian as well as security) adopts many of the dogs; others go to families who apply through the Pen Pal program. A dog stays with us until someone adopts it. Moreover, if a family is unhappy with the dog they adopt, we take the animal back.

Yesterday all five of the dogs took their Kennel Club of America Good Citizenship Certification Test. The certification covers ten areas of good doggy manners: meeting and greeting a friendly stranger; tolerating the examination of ears, teeth, paws and basic grooming with a brush; loose leash walking; loose leash walking through a crowd; sit on cue; down on cue; stay while owner walks away; come from 20 feet; meeting and greeting a friendly stranger with an unfamiliar dog; standing quietly with a stranger while separated from owner for 3 minutes. The handlers could only use verbal or visual rewards and encouragements. The test also took place in a new and strange environment that had all the dogs rather anxious. In other words, the test demands a lot from a puppy and is a true test of the dog’s self-control and maturity.

As I watched (with absurd pride, nervousness, tension and joy!) the dogs go through their tests (Dizzy’s “down” was spectacular!), it occurred to me that we inmates might benefit from a similar rigorous test of our good citizenship. As things stand right now, when a woman comes to prison, she may never work, go to school; she may no nothing, take responsibility for nothing and then will be released several years later older and no wiser. What if prison became a course in good citizenship? What if we were trained and tested for basic good manners (please, thank you, you’re welcome, may I have, after you), including hand shaking, letter writing, table manners (that white thing is called a napkin and it is used for dabbing your mouth)? What if the test included ethics–honesty, integrity, doing a fair day’s labor? What if we were required to demonstrate responsibility for our health (eating properly, exercising, not smoking, proper eye and dental care)? Or, what if we had to prove we knew how to respond to strange or uncomfortable people and situations in our lives without resorting to violence, drugs, criminal behavior or that we had learned how to behave appropriately under adverse conditions? If we had to exhibit civilized behavior in the company of other civilized people? If we could show that our behavior was consistent and dependable irrespective of the pressures around us?

I wonder if the rate of recidivism would decline if something more were required of us. If something more was expected of us.

Our dogs did not fail, but nor did they win their certifications. They need a bit more practice. I was not disappointed with their performances because they have all come so far in a relatively short time. And we their handlers are, for the most part, complete beginners (poor dogs!). The citizenship test was a marvelous learning experience–if I could just learn from it. Through working with the dogs, I discover a completely new spectrum of bad habits and attitudes that I have to train out of myself to be a better handler of dogs and life." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, May 31, 2007)

An index to Elizabeth Haysom's columns may be found at Glimpses from Inside.