A prison is the last place you might expect to hear a bark, but in three Texas correctional facilities, you’ll regularly hear barks, commands and the pitter-patter of paws.
The Texas Department of Criminal Justice partnered with Patriot Paws, a nonprofit that pairs disabled veterans with service dogs. Before the dogs are paired with a vet, incarcerated individuals train them to learn basic service animal skills.
The pairing between Patriot Paws and prisons is mutually beneficial. The trainers learn valuable life lessons and gain skills that can lead to career opportunities post-release, and the dogs learn how to care for a vet.
Since starting the partnership in 2008, Patriot Paws has hired two formerly-incarcerated dog trainers.
Meet one of the trainers and learn how you can get involved with Patriot Paws in the video above.
More: People in Prisons Are Learning to Code — and It Might Alter the Course of Their Lives
Tag: dogs
This Nun Found a Way to Save Prisoners’ Lives — All by Spelling ‘God’ Backwards
Sister Pauline Quinn says it was a German shepherd who saved her life.
After running away from an abusive home and being shuffled between different institutions throughout her adolescence, Quinn was released onto the streets at age 18.
“Where do I go? What do I do?” she remembers. “I lived in abandoned buildings. Slept in doorways, on a bench.”
Living on the streets made her even more vulnerable to abuse, Quinn says. “I was taken advantage of by people in authority, such as the police.”
Quinn would visit dogs in kennels as a way to cope with her mistreatment. When she eventually adopted a German shepherd named Joni, everything began to turn around.
“That became the start of a different life because I learned I had power within me at that time. She gave me the power,” Quinn says. People started treating her differently, staying away as she walked down the street with a big dog by her side. “I liked the feeling so much I got another dog. I knew that they would protect me, which people did not do for me.”
With the confidence Joni gave her, Quinn started thinking about how she could use dogs to help other people who were suffering. She couldn’t afford to take her own dogs to dog-training classes, but trainers allowed her to sit in on their classes and observe what they were doing. In 1981, after years of self study, she teamed up with Leo K. Bustad, the dean of Washington State University’s College of Veterinary Medicine, to launch the first-ever Prison Pet Partnership.
The program operated out of the Washington Corrections Center for Women (WCCW) and paired previously homeless dogs with inmates who trained them as service animals to help veterans and others suffering from trauma.
“I wanted the inmates to learn how to become others-centered, using the dog as a tool for change, but also for them to learn a skill that they can use when they get out, like dog training,” Quinn says.
After a three-month trial that showed the model could work, WCCW implemented the pet partnership as a permanent program — and similar programs began sprouting up throughout the country. Today there are over 200 prison dog programs in the U.S., as well as a handful in foreign countries.
Different programs have different objectives and funding sources, and there has yet to be a comprehensive study on the programs’ efficacy. But there are plenty of anecdotal reports on programs successfully reducing recidivism, improving inmate self-esteem and reducing conflicts within the prisons.
Inmates themselves report feeling empowered by their work with the dogs. “I thought that if I could do something to make someone’s life better, maybe it would help balance the scales a little bit,” says writer Charles Huckelbury, who served 38 years for homicide. “It gave me a good feeling knowing that I was helping somebody instead of hurting people.”
And Dunasha Payne, an inmate at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility, tells NationSwell through tears that the dogs are a key way of coping with life behind bars. “They make you feel like you’re worth something, and they make you wake up every day, that you have a purpose in life and that you’re not just a prisoner.”
Watch the video above to learn more about Quinn and her work to bring about healing through the power of human-animal connections.
More: These Dogs Are Giving Inmates a Paws-itive Path Forward
Emotional Support Animals Are Not Service Animals. Here’s Why It Matters
It’s Monday in the office, and I’m on a mission to see if the mouse that continues to eat its way through my pantry can be registered as an emotional support animal. After all, it has been more effective in cutting carbs from my diet than weekly therapy.
Within five minutes of searching online, I found that if I paid $164 to one company, it would provide me with a “disability assessment and treatment recommendation letter.” This letter would allow me to position the mouse — yes, my pest — as an emotional support animal. For another $75, I could get a letter that would make it possible for me to take the tiny rodent with me on a plane for a year, no questions asked.
It’s schemes like these, along with a number of viral-worthy posts claiming peacocks and iguanas as emotional support animals, that have made the use of emotional support animals (ESAs), well, eyebrow-raising.
As a result, people who game the system to get free flights for their pets are being scrutinized more frequently — and that’s not good news for those with actual disabilities.
“I had to fight for my right to have my ESA everywhere I applied for housing. It was extremely difficult dealing with housing managers who simply had been scammed so many times,” Karen Ann Young, a blind woman with PTSD who has been using a seeing eye dog along with her ESA for 33 years, tells NationSwell. “It took so long to find an apartment [because] landlords have been overrun with tenants claiming their pets are emotional support animals.”
Here are a few things you need to know about service animals, the controversy surrounding ESAs, and what’s being done to stem the rising tide of fraudulent support and service animals.
What is an ESA?
In order for an animal to be considered “of service,” the Americans with Disabilities Act requires the animal to be trained to provide a specific task — seeing eye dogs, for example.
By law, most public places are required to allow service animals. Shop owners are allowed to ask someone using a service animal two questions: “Is the animal required because of a disability?” and “What has the animal been trained to do?”
It’s a completely different set of requirements, though, for ESAs, which are regulated under the Fair Housing Act and Air Carrier Access Act. Typically, you must have a legitimate mental diagnosis and an ESA deemed necessary by a licensed psychotherapist, before your pet can fly for free (and not in the cargo hold).
But those seemingly legitimate rules have created a cottage industry for online certifications, bogus treatment letters and even online shops via Amazon that sell support animal gear.
As a result, pigs can fly. And that’s a growing problem.
How ESAs turned airline travel into a nuisance
In January this year, Dexter the peacock made its owner famous after she was denied entry to her flight from Newark to Los Angeles when she claimed the bird was an ESA. And earlier this month, Southwest Airlines announced they would start allowing miniature horses on planes. (Miniature horses are recognized as service animals under the ADA.)
But many are saying “neigh” to the idea of expanding the definition of support in this context, partially because it’s feared that the ESA trend is getting out of control.
It’s difficult to know how many ESAs there are in the nation — there is no central database or oversight in terms of how such animals are registered — but airlines track the number of support animals they fly every year, which gives us some idea. Delta Airlines found that since 2015, it has flown over 250,000 service and support animals — an increase of 150 percent.
Another study found that registration for assistance dogs in California increased by 1,000 percent between 2002 and 2012. And that number is likely to rise, as Americans age and start requiring more canine support.
“It is likely we will see more dramatic increases in the number of adults with a disability as the baby boomer population [ages] over the next 20 years,” Chad Helmick with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention told Anything Pawsible, a trade publication covering service animals.
Are ESAs effective?
One in five Americans deal with mental illness in a given year, and given the massive media pick up on animals helping us deal with trauma or stress, you’d think that a small furry creature — such as a hungry mouse — could represent cheap and easy therapy.
Not so much, it seems.
The science is still out on ESAs being truly effective for treating those with trauma, depression or anxiety.
Dogs, for example, have been found to help veterans with PTSD. Adopting furry animals has shown to help reduce stockbrokers’ blood pressure, and a review published this past February found that pets did, indeed, help those with mental health conditions.
But almost all of the studies that demonstrate the efficacy of pet therapy also come with a big caveat: there needs to be more research on the subject. Moreover, there is nothing conclusive to show that animals actually help more than just being cute, cuddly and generally happiness inducing.
“Despite media headlines extolling the curative powers of dolphins, dogs, horses and Guinea pigs, there is little evidence of the long-term effectiveness of emotional support animals for the treatment of mental problems,” writes Hal Herzog, a psychologist who analyzes relationships between humans and animals, for Psychology Today. “Indeed, it is possible that they can sometimes have an enabling function which actually prolongs an individual’s psychological issues.”
Airlines and states are fighting back
Because airlines are on the front lines of the ESA debate, private companies like Delta Airlines and JetBlue have created higher standards for flying with animals, such as providing proof of need through a therapist’s note and giving 48 hours notice to review animals being taken on board.
The change in policy — outside the dramatic increase in ESAs being used in travel — was implemented because of “incidents involving emotional support animals that haven’t been adequately trained to behave in a busy airport or the confined space of an aircraft,” reads JetBlue’s policy.
But states have also taken action in order to curb the trend.
Last year, the state of Washington passed a law that makes misrepresenting a pet as a service animal a civil infraction with a $500 fine. A similar law was passed in Arizona this year that also fines fraudulent service animals’ owners.
But such laws can create problems for people who rely on legitimate service animals. Some argue that the new legislation doesn’t adequately address poorly behaved non-disabled people and their pets, but rather opens up harassment for people who actually depend on their animals to help them lead normal lives.
Perhaps a better solution is one that is less punitive than regulatory, like a nationally recognized identification system, where both dogs and trainers must pass testing and be recertified every few years — something not currently mandated under the ADA.
And though I might want to justify my use of an ESA mouse to cut back on my intake of Wonder Bread, I think it’s likely best to just stick with traditional diet and exercise.
At This Prison, Puppies and Inmates Give Each Other Purpose
At this women’s prison in upstate New York, puppies are proving to be more than just woman’s best friend.
“They make you feel like you’re worth something,” says Dunasha Payne, an inmate at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. “And they make you wake up every day, that you have a purpose in life and that you’re not just a prisoner.”
Payne is part of Puppies Behind Bars, a program that teaches inmates to train puppies as service animals for veterans and first responders suffering from PTSD. Not only do the dogs bring comfort to the people they serve, but the inmates participating in the program are “the most well-behaved” in the prison, according to one guard. Watch the video above and read our full article to see how Puppies Behind Bars is making a difference for people in and out of prison.
These Dogs Are Giving Inmates a Paws-itive Path Forward
Charlene Mess was having a bad dream. At least, she was acting like she was.
As she rocked back and forth, screaming and moaning, her dog, Champ, shot his head up and leapt into action. He pulled off Mess’ sheets and flicked on the room’s lights with his wet nose. It took him a few tries, but when he finally switched it on, there was thunderous applause.
Champ was demonstrating his latest trick in front of a room of dog trainers, who also happen to be inmates at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility, a maximum-security prison for women in New York, about an hour north of Manhattan.
“Good boy!” Mess said, jumping up from her makeshift bed, which in reality was a long table, as she fed Champ treats from a kibble pouch that she had belted over her prison uniform.
The flipping-on-the-light trick was just one of many that Champ showed off during a recent class at Bedford Hills, where he and Mess participate in Puppies Behind Bars (PBB). The New York–based nonprofit, which operates in six correctional facilities and works with about 140 prisoners, trains inmates to raise service dogs for wounded veterans and first-responders suffering from trauma-related disorders. They also raise and train explosive-detection canines (EDCs) for law enforcement.
The benefits of the program are circular: Not only do the dogs go on to serve those who need help, they also positively impact the inmates who raise them from 8-week-old puppies, providing them with a sense of purpose and redemption. According to PBB, many of the puppy-raisers go on to work professionally as dog trainers and groomers after they’re paroled.
“Craig makes me feel whole,” says Dunasha Payne, fighting back tears as she speaks about her 2-year-old black lab, which is expected to graduate from PPB and start life as a service dog within the next few weeks. “And I love him so much, and it’s like, I tried my best with my dog, and I put all my personal feeling aside to raise him to the fullest potential that I could. But they make you feel like you’re worth something, and they make you [feel] that you have a purpose in life, and that you’re not just a prisoner, that you’re not just here to do some time.”
A NEED FOR SUPPORT
In 1997, the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility became the first prison in New York to implement Puppies Behind Bars. The program, which is funded through outside donations, initially focused on raising and training seeing-eye dogs. But then came 9/11 and the subsequent conflicts in the Middle East.
“Being a New Yorker, living in New York, being there on September 11th, I’ve always thought that those first responders were thanked and thanked and thanked initially, and then they kind of weren’t,” says PPB founder and president Gloria Gilbert Stoga, who once worked on a commission to find employment for low-income New Yorkers under former Mayor Rudolph Giuliani. “They kind of blended into the background, [but they] had a lot of health issues.”
It was at that point that Stoga widened PPB’s mission to include the training and deployment of explosive-detection canines and, later, service dogs for traumatized first responders and wounded veterans.
“With the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan raging, I kept thinking, ‘What can I do? What can I do?’” she says. “The answer was that I can help these [inmates] raise service dogs that we can donate to wounded war veterans.”
Along with a handful of other instructors, including former inmates who have gone on to work for PPB, Stoga teaches prisoners how to raise service dogs. She also conducts several group training sessions a year, in which veterans are paired with dogs and learn from the inmate-trainers how to work with them. The program puts 2-month-old puppies, most of which are labrador retrievers, under the watchful eyes of inmates. These devoted doggy caretakers live, sleep and work with the pooches 24/7 until they’ve mastered an industry-standard 85 commands, like opening doors for wheelchair users, plus five more that specifically help sufferers of PTSD and TBI (traumatic brain injury).
Most dogs are able to complete the training program in 12 to 24 months. To date, PBB has put more than 250 to use as guide, service, therapy and companion dogs, plus another 437 have gone on to work with law enforcement as bomb-sniffing dogs.
Though the Department of Correction does not track recidivism rates of parolees who have participated in PBB, a DOC spokesperson says it measures success in the soft skills gained by inmates who care for the dogs.
“Part of [DOC’s] mission is to prepare individuals for their transition back to the community,” the spokesperson says. “[Puppies Behind Bars] incentivizes good behavior in the facility, as well as giving individuals the opportunity to do something positive for someone else, while learning patience, pride and accomplishment — all of which will benefit them when they reenter society.”
‘WE MANUFACTURE BEST FRIENDS’
The walk through Bedford Hills Correctional Facility — the only maximum-security prison for women in the state — is brimming with reminders of exactly where you are. There may be a few pretty flowers here and there, sure, but it’s all against a backdrop of barbed wire and high fences.
“I’ve been here for years,” says a prison security guard. “And let me tell you, this is like no other program. It really works. They are the most well-behaved inmates.”
It’s 8:30 in the morning, and Payne is on a turfed field playing fetch with her dog, Craig.
Payne has changed her life around since entering prison in 2013. Originally from Queens, she was well-known in local tabloids as “hell on wheels” after mowing down and killing her ex-boyfriend in a jealous rage.
She says that everything is different now. She has been part of Rehabilitation Through the Arts, an in-prison arts program that has been shown to dramatically reduce recidivism rates, and is now a trainer with Puppies Behind Bars, which — according to the organization’s mission statement — aims to help those living in prison learn to sacrifice for a bigger cause. Another perk is that inmates who take part in the program can shave six months off their sentence.
“I’ve had Craig since he was 8 weeks old. I also have a child at home who is 8 years old, and I left her when she was 3,” says Payne. “And not to compare the two, but for me, I really got my confidence in proving to [the PBB staff] that I can indeed take care of a dog. I felt that my purpose was way more important than just me being a regular average inmate.”
Other inmates say the program has fostered in them a passion for helping others. When a first responder was paired with the dog Alice Trappler had raised, she saw it as an opportunity to help a man fighting deep depression.
“He shared with us that he felt broken. He didn’t feel at all like he was worthwhile. And he had tried to commit suicide, which to me is heartbreaking,” says Trappler, who’s serving a 25-year-to-life sentence. “My comment to him was that his dog did not think he was broken. She thought he was great, and she thought he was the best thing ever.
“We manufacture best friends, because they’re infallible and they love you no matter what.”
Could This Be the Next ALS Ice Bucket Challenge?
Last month, a burglar broke into veteran Andrew Myers’s Seattle house. But as the security camera footage in the YouTube video “Mr. Wrong House – Robber Meets Paratrooper” shows, Myers tackled the robber, punched him and held him until police arrived. The story spread across the country, and the video has been viewed almost 4 million times.
“Part of the reason it became a national story is, gratuitously thanking veterans makes people feel good about themselves,” Myers tells KIRO Radio. “That’s my opinion as a soldier watching civilians. It makes people feel patriotic. It’s like warm apple pie to see veteran justice. Another element to it is, people love instant karma. It really seems like these low-level home invasions are a much bigger deal than I realized. So many of these comments are people with similar experiences.”
When some suggested Myers should try to profit from his new fame, he rejected the idea. But then he got to thinking about a grave problem facing veterans — the suicide rate of 22 deaths a day — and decided his video might be able to help. After all, he knew what it was like to have long lasting effects from military service.
Myers served in Afghanistan as a paratrooper in the 82nd Airborne Division. When he returned home, he began to experience symptoms of PTSD. He soon contacted Paws and Stripes, an organization that provides service dogs to veterans with PTSD, and was matched with Hunter, an Australian shepherd. Myers instantly felt better with Hunter by his side. “I was 100 percent different person within two days of having the dog. I was like, ‘I need you.'”
So Myers set up a website, MrWrongHouse.com, where he invites people to take a donation challenge which involves uploading a black-and-white photo of themselves with their arms extended in a “come at me, bro” gesture that he makes in the security camera footage, making a donation to Paws and Stripes and nominating three other individuals to participate.
“Go on the porch, do the wingspan pose, take a black and white picture, and challenge your friends to do the same,” he says. “Keep the challenge going long enough to hit that viral-ity that will raise enough money to make a difference.”
After viewing the “Mr. Wrong House” video, our guess is many people will be inclined to do what Myers tells them to do.
MORE: After Losing Her Marine Son to PTSD, This Mom’s Mission is to Save Other Veterans
When the Poor and Elderly Can’t Afford to Feed Their Pets, This Nonprofit Comes to the Rescue
As an owner of dogs, finches, cockatiels, guinea pigs, mice, tropical fish, a duck, a rabbit and more through the years, it’s obvious that Marianne Iaquinto of Wyndmoor, Penn. has always been a pet lover.
When her beloved Shih Tzu, Sam, was dying in 2012, Iaquinto decided to let her grief fuel a vital service: Helping the poor and elderly keep their pets instead of turning them over to shelters when they can’t afford them. So she started the nonprofit Sam’s Hope.
To date, Sam’s Hope has collected and distributed more than 44,000 pounds of pet food to the needy.
In particular, Iaquinto is moved by the plight of impoverished elderly people who aren’t able to pay for their pet’s upkeep and are forced to put them in a shelter.
“The elderly, sometimes all they have in life is their pet, their only reason to get up in the morning,” Iaquinto tells Len Lear of Chestnut Hill Local. “In this case, they don’t surrender their pets; they sacrifice their own health and well-being, sharing their food and forgoing medication to provide for the pet.”
The Doris Day Animal Foundation has recognized Sam’s Hope for its work, providing funding to the organization to start a new service: Meals for the Pets of the Homebound and Elderly. Just as their owners are given monthly meal deliveries, the pets receive food, too.
Besides distributing about 4,000 pounds of pet food and cat litter each month to both pet food pantries and directly to pet owners, Sam’s Hope assists in a variety of ways — including veterinary care for pets whose owners can’t afford it. Volunteers for the nonprofit once also captured and relocated a bunch of feral cats after their owner died and helped a sick pet owner find homes for eight of his cats.
Iaquinto plans to start two voucher programs: One giving the poor the ability to have their pets spayed and neutered, and the other, which will enable people to adopt older shelter pets who often are left behind in favor of puppies and kittens.
In 2013, Iaquinto left her job as the vice-president of McGruff Safe Kids’ Total ID System and now volunteers 50 to 60 hours a week with Sam’s Hope. “How do I do it? Well, I have found that there are things in life that are more important than money. I am happier than I have ever been before. Money doesn’t buy that,” she says.
Guaranteed the pet owners and their furry friends that have received assistance from Sam’s Hope are happier than ever, too.
Correction: A previous version of this article stated that Sam’s Hope operated out of a local restaurant. NationSwell apologizes for the error.
MORE: Should Military Dogs Receive the Same Level of Medical Care as Their Human Handlers?
When This Veteran Needed Help Paying for His Dog’s Service Training, This Young Girl Opened a Lemonade Stand
After two tours in Iraq and close calls during mortar attacks that left Nicholas Bailey with PTSD, a spinal injury and severe pain, only one thing helped the Army veteran: support from his German Shepherd, Abel.
His wife, Vanessa, tells DaShawn Brown of WCSC, “In the middle of the night when Nick is having a nightmare, he wakes Nick up by licking his hand.”
“It’s like he could feel the pain coming from Nick,” says Vanessa.
Because of this intense bond, the Baileys, of North Charleston, S.C., decided they wanted to train Abel as a service animal instead of applying to receive a new dog trained to help with PTSD. They started training Abel on their own, but once, when they were shopping, a box fell from a shelf and hit Abel, startling him and leaving him hesitant to enter stores — the exact places where Nicholas relied on him to calm his PTSD symptoms.
As a result, the Baileys investigated how to get Abel professional training in Arizona at a facility that can teach the German Shepherd to overcome his fear and complete his service dog lessons.
The only problem? The training (plus kenneling, medications, and food) costs $15,000. (A more affordable training program that the Baileys originally looked into didn’t work out.)
The Baileys set up a GoFundMe account explaining Nick’s condition and that going out in public can be a “nightmare” without the help of Abel.
All of this led to an 8-year-old girl the Baileys had never met, Rachel Mennett, learning of their plight and asking a pet shop in Summerville, S.C. if she could set up a lemonade stand to raise money for Abel’s training.
“I wanted to help him because my brother knew he needed help, and I wanted to do lemonade so I thought I could help him do it,” she tells Brown. The donations flowed in, many people giving money without even accepting a cup of lemonade.
“For me, it’s just amazing that an 8-year-old girl would show any interest in me or my dog,” Nicholas says.
As for that GoFundMe account? After the story about Rachel’s lemonade stand aired, many more people chipped in, and now the Baileys are just a couple of thousands of dollars shy of their goal.
MORE: After Losing Her Marine Son to PTSD, This Mom’s Mission is to Save the Lives of Other Veterans
After Losing Her Marine Son to PTSD, This Mom’s Mission Is to Save the Lives of Other Veterans
Wendy Meyers’ son Brandon wanted one thing in life: To be a Marine.
Once he graduated from high school in Plainfield, Illinois, Brandon immediately enlisted and soon deployed to Iraq for nine months. He briefly returned home and then returned to Iraq for 19 months.
When he came home a second time, in 2012, Meyers knew something was deeply wrong with her son. “My husband woke up one night and heard him on the roof,” she told Fox 17, “He went out and talked to him, and he was doing sniper duty in the middle of the night on our roof. He never left Iraq.”
Brandon sought help from the VA, who judged him 70 percent disabled due to PTSD. The VA prescribed him medication and gave him counseling via teleconference. Still, things weren’t improving. Meyers said that Brandon told her, “When he died, just scatter his dust back in Iraq, because that’s where he died anyway.”
Sadly, Brandon took his own life in June 2013, becoming one of the estimated 22 veterans a day who commit suicide.
Meyers has turned her grief into a new mission. She aims to start a charity called Bubba’s Dogs for Warriors, which will provide service animals to veterans suffering from PTSD — a treatment she thinks might have helped her son better than the therapy he did receive. “We have lost more men and women to suicide than the wars themselves from start to today,” she told Brad Edwards of CBS 2 Chicago. “We can help. Every penny and dollar we give can save a life. They have done this for us. Let’s not forget.”
Meyers launched a GoFundMe campaign with the target of raising $30,000 to fund two service animals. So far, she’s collected more than $7,000. On the page Meyers writes, “We’ve poured our broken hearts into research and found the highest degree of treatment success can come in the form of a constant companion — a dog, a service dog. Training these PTSD dogs is expensive, up to $15,000 each. In our son’s memory, we’d like to save lives.” She notes that service animals are not covered by the VA, which is why so many nonprofits are stepping up to provide them.
Brandon achieved his goal of becoming a Marine; now, his mother works toward her mission of helping her late son’s comrades. If you’re interested in helping Meyers hit her target, click here.
MORE: This Service Dog Has A Mission Beyond Helping Just One Vet
Should Military Dogs Receive the Same Level of Medical Care As Their Human Handlers?
There’s a special group of service members who’ve worked hard and risked their lives to keep people safe in war zones, detecting contraband and explosives and tracking down suspects. But when they return home with disabilities resulting from their service, they don’t receive complimentary medical care.
We’re talking about military working dogs, whose veteran handlers often foot the bill for expensive veterinary care. (Not to mention the shipping bill to return them to the States, which often costs thousands of dollars.)
Mike Dowling, retired Marine Corps Dog Handler and author of Sergeant Rex: The Unbreakable Bond Between A Marine and His Military Working Dog, recently spoke with Take Part about the problem.
“As a veteran, if I have a service-connected disability, I can go to the Veterans Affairs and get free-of-charge medical care,” he said. “But military working dogs who have service-connected disabilities, they don’t have any kind of free-of-charge medical care or even a discounted medical care. So these handlers are going to Washington D.C. to advocate for some kind of [fund] to be set up so that when they adopt these dogs they can pay for their care in retirement.”
One such instance is that of Cristina Collesano, a U.S. Navy Dog Handler. She had to pay $3,000 to transport her adopted service dog Zizi back to Michigan from Italy. After years of service during which she kept military zones safe, Zizi developed severe arthritis in her spine and shoulders as well as bone cancer. “She’s much more than just a dog to me,” Collesano said.
On behalf of their canines, military dog handlers are urging D.C. lawmakers to actually implement legislation that they passed last year: the Canine Members of the Armed Forces Act, which allows defense officials to create programs that fund military working dog medical care and transportation. Since then, no programs have yet been created (due to a loophole in the law), and for some concerned military members and their hard-working service animals, the time for action is now.
MORE: This Organization Knows How to Simultaneously Save Veterans and Dogs
Editor’s note: Cristina Collesano’s last name was incorrectly spelled in a previous version of this post.