their lives were over.
Another of the program’s remarkable trainers was in his fifties when he saw his first Paws in Prison dog. Short, graying, slightly stooped, the man had spent almost his entire adult life behind bars. Because of three different violent crimes, he knew he would not get out from behind the walls until he died. With this depressing reality holding him in a vice-like grip, he had given up. Over the past decade he had even lost his ability to walk and now had to use a wheelchair. He was totally dependent upon the staff and other prisoners for even his most basic needs.
When those around him began to train dogs, he asked the warden if he could become a part of the program. The answer was an immediate no. A man in a wheelchair could not do what was necessary to train a dog to be a service animal or even a pet.
A month later this now-determined man stood for the first time in a decade and took his first steps in a walker. When he found out that was not enough, he worked harder. In just eight weeks he was walking. A month later he was able to run and he earned his way into the program.
This lifer has trained half a dozen dogs that have become incredible family pets. He has worked with small animals and big ones, those that were high energy and those that moved slowly, shy dogs and outgoing canines, and those that were beautiful and others that weren’t. And all of them had one thing in common with him. They too had been discarded and given up on by society.
In these three cases and scores of others, Renie Rule’s vision has given both dogs and convicts a reason to live. Paws in Prison has also become one of the most remarkable rehabilitation programs in the nation. Those who once defied authority suddenly found peace, security, and value through the love of shelter dogs. By teaming unwanted people with unwanted canines, Rule gave both a reason to live and love.
Several years ago, my wife and I were moved to adopt a beautiful male collie. As I looked at this rescue dog I found it amazing that most felt he should be put down. What was his crime? He was born completely blind.
Sammy has become one of the most remarkable animals I have ever met. He is able to navigate our home as well as any sighted dog. He can chase squirrels and still miss every tree in our yard. He is gentle, compassionate, and loving. And he is always smiling. I have never seen an animal or human enjoy life as much as does Sammy. This blind dog that most felt should be put down is my hero because he teaches me and so many others that there is no reason to limit ourselves because of others’ perceptions. In his time with us he has inspired countless folks not just to see the potential of special-needs dogs but also to be better people.
Renie Rule did more than start a program; she created heroes out of dogs no one wanted. We have that potential too. We can help dogs become more than just companions; like the dogs that go behind bars and like Sammy at our house, they can be our teachers, spiritual guides, and even our heroes.
Several years ago I was asked to identify the best role model I had ever met. I smiled and quickly answered, “Lassie.” Why? Because Lassie lives a life filled with love, courage, forgiveness, compassion, and acceptance. And every dog has that same potential. If you don’t believe me, then go meet the unwanted canines that have been trained by those who are a part of Paws in Prison! Dogs are more than pets; they are modest and unassuming heroes in the making that are just waiting for the opportunity to awe in ways we cannot begin to imagine.
2. Tenacity
tenacity
he never surrendered
Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal. My strength lies solely in my tenacity.
—Louis Pasteur
It had been just over a year since John F. Kennedy had been gunned down in Dallas, Texas, and the country was still immersed in a cloud of confusion. The great social upheaval that was sweeping America was being covered by television. Millions were bombarded daily by events that seemed to shake traditional thinking to the core. A young, suddenly politically active generation was protesting against the war in Vietnam. African Americans, inspired by Martin Luther King, Jr., were marching in the streets demanding equal rights. The Beatles and other British acts controlled the music industry pushing Elvis, Sinatra, and other U.S. artists to the back burner. TV and movies were beginning to take on an edge that left many people uncomfortable. America’s sense of greatness and opportunity that had defined the 1950s had given way to a period of 1960s pessimism. This dark cloud of insecurity and apprehension had invaded every corner of the country including Tacoma, Washington. It seemed what America needed was a born-and-bred hero but what the country had was a crop of anti-heroes. In many ways this was a sad and depressing time.
With Christmas just days away, Marvin Scott, a gray-haired man in his sixties, was trying to ignore the national malaise and praying his furniture business would pick up. Scott’s dark-rimmed glasses, black, conservative suit, white shirt, and muted tie made the Tacoma store owner appear almost as gloomy as the national mood. Yet far from being a somber, withdrawn person, Scott was actually outgoing and charming. He had a zest for life that few men nearing retirement age possessed. Though usually hidden by his dark coats, he possessed broad, rugged shoulders and a flat stomach that also proved his vibrant and inexhaustible energy. Because of having to move the heavy furniture he sold, he was also a strong man who retained his optimism when it seemed the whole country had chosen to embrace a cynical spirit. Though he didn’t know it, he would need each of those traits and a remarkable dog to just survive until the holidays.
Scott lived in one of the most beautiful places in the country. Spanaway, Washington, sprang to life in the 1890s as a tourist resort. Back then people from all over the world took the train to the small community to visit Mt. Rainer. As the visitors got off at the train station, the picturesque, snow-covered mountain loomed in the background leaving them in awe. Most snapped photos and bought postcards and took the story of the area back to places like Kansas City, Chicago, Dallas, and New York. A few decided the area was so breathtaking they wanted to see it each morning when they awoke. Hence, over time, the small town was transformed into a quaint community filled with people who loved outdoor life.
Over the decades Marvin Scott watched the town grow and prosper while also keeping an eye on the unchanging Mt. Rainer. He often spent hours on the dock just three hundred yards before his lakefront home relishing the incredible vistas nature presented to him. What he saw while enjoying Lake Spanaway never grew old. And usually when he was on the dock or walking around the lake, Scott was accompanied by a mutt named Patches.
Patches was anything but a purebred dog. The white-and-brown fifty-pound mass of fur defined the term “medium-sized mongrel.” Scott freely acknowledged his canine was a mix of collie and malamute with likely a few other things tossed in, but the man believed that gave the dog character. In an age where everyone wanted a certain breed and was paying big bucks for that privilege, the furniture store owner took special pride in having an animal no one would pay money to own. In Scott’s way of thinking, Patches defined America and its individual spirit.
From the collie side of his family, Patches had developed a real instinct for herding. The problem was Scott didn’t own any sheep, goats, or cows. So the dog constantly tried to unsuccessfully corral the ducks and geese that lived around the lake. He also leaned into Scott when they walked together.
From the malamute side, Patches received a stubborn nature that caused Scott even more grief than having the dog try to herd him on their walks. Malamutes simply have a mind of their own. Much like a cat, they decide which of their master’s orders were important and which could be ignored. Added
