Throughout much of my life I struggled with the concept of what “love” is.  From an early age the very people that were supposed to love and protect me harmed me or put themselves ahead of my well being.  To conceal the pain of isolation, I became a master of disguise, wearing masks to fit in with others. Sadly, I found my place drowning in an abyss of other broken souls much like myself… after thirty-five years of incarceration, I had forgotten what love actually was.  I managed to survive a life of imprisonment by not feeling my connection to the humanity around me.

Then the prison I am housed at announced they would be bringing a Service Dog Training Program to the facility.  I hadn’t seen nor touched a dog in over two decades, nor had I ever had a dog of my own growing up, though I envied the boys in my neighborhood who did. But, I was excited and wanted to be a part of something that felt outside of prison, something that had nothing to do with the coldness of concrete walls and steel doors.  I simply wanted to feel again after years of hiding behind pain.

With the help of the facility Captain, I was able to name the dog I was assigned, a twelve-week-old yellow labrador retriever.  ‘Delta’ seemed fitting, and shortly after he would become the face of the dog program here on D-facility.  The moment I held him in my arms I began to feel things I had been longing to feel but could not say out loud.  The walls, the very walls that kept me from connecting with others around me, began to crumble.

I sat in my prison cell that first night with tears streaming down my face.  Here I was, convicted of first degree murder for taking the life of another human being, now responsible for the well being of this amazing creature.  I was instantly humbled by the experience and what was to come in the three years that followed.

Delta became one of the top Warrior Support Dogs in the program, and through our time together he taught me how to love and be loved.  The men who took this journey alongside me, raising dogs of their own to be of service to veterans and first responders in the community suffering from PTSD, allowed me to see a side of them that most men continue to hide within these walls.  In the end, I gained a family of men that showed their love, kindness, trust, and patience with me as their team leader, as well as their commitment to love their dogs.

My fondest memories, despite being bittersweet, were of the dogs going out into the community following graduation.  Together, we watched like proud parents as a dog would graduate and together we hugged and cried, no longer able to hide our emotions from one another.  If that is not love, love for self and another human being, I don’t think I will ever experience it while incarcerated.  

Delta now resides with a wonderful service vet couple where he has lived since graduating a year and a half ago.  I still carry with me all the things he taught me, most of all how to love others with acts of kindness, rather than deprive myself of the beautiful opportunities that come with being a part of something remarkable in another person’s life.  My greatest reward is that I can actually feel again… and I’m not afraid to do so. 

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