Prison Dogs

By Larry Stafford

Run with the bloodhounds and beagles as they track a prisoner through the scrub brush and bogs of the Florida panhandle. The prisoner they chase has tried to escape them before but never can. The convict knows his chances of success are limited--in the swamp, in the prison, and one day, when he's released. He's trained therapy dogs, bomb dogs, and even a police dog while in jail. He knows the dogs are relentless, but not as relentless as the ghost of a police officer that he left on the side of the road to die. Prison Dogs chronicles the real life story of a man who had lost his way in life, but with the unlikely help of fellow prisoners, professional dog trainers, and dedicated prison guards molds himself into a new man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543975437

Larry Stafford

Larry Stafford wrote, the book, "In the Shadows". He had previously published articles in several magazines and newspapers, to include the Marine Corps Gazette. He was the first to write about the integration of women in the officer training program, at Quantico, Virginia. He also wrote about the Greensboro murder trial and aftermath in 1980-81. He is a graduate of Temple University and was an artillery officer in the US Marine Corps. He was a commodity, equity, and bond trader and wrote a series of articles for a National Bank on the fundamentals of the New York Stock Exchange. He was also an IRA specialist for a major bank, as well as serving Russian and Spanish speaking clients. He is currently a substitute teacher for elementary and high schools in Cecil County Maryland. He also coaches high School baseball at North East High, in Cecil County.

Book preview

Prison Dogs

Larry Stafford

ISBN (Print Edition): 978-1-54397-542-0

ISBN (eBook Edition): 978-1-54397-543-7

© 2019. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One: On the Run

Chapter Two: A Prayer for Ketchum

Chapter Three: The Sweet Science

Chapter Four: Dogs Bark; Dogs Bite

Chapter Five: The Court of Prince Vincent

Chapter Six: Minding Meadow

Chapter Seven: A Raised Platform

Chapter Eight: Team Building

Chapter Nine: Dream Land

Chapter Ten: Faith and Freedom

Chapter Eleven: Ghosts

Chapter Twelve: Still Climbing

Chapter Thirteen: Sheep Dogs

Chapter Fourteen: The Shadow

Chapter Fifteen: Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way

Chapter Sixteen: Kairos

Epilogue

Appendix One: A Sense of Smell

Appendix Two: Detections Dogs

Appendix Three: Vapor Wake K9

Acknowledgements

Michael Crichton said that research is the reward for writing a book. And, so it was with this book. When my nephew, Guy Jones, was sent to prison, I made a promise to myself to keep in contact with him. Over the years I marveled at the stories he told and suggested we put them in a book. His letters prompted me to ask questions, some of which he could answer, others required me to learn more.  

I’m indebted to the professionals at Vapor Wake K9 for sharing their stories with me. Paul Hammond, whose combat experience carried him from Ireland to Iraq, helped me understand the world of training bomb detection dogs and the future of the industry. John Pearce, former head of K-9 training for the Air Force, helped me see the mechanics of dog training and its impact on our society. When I mentioned by name a dog that Guy Jones had trained in prison, Pearce smiled and said, I remember that dog. He wound up in New York City. They rename our dogs after police officers killed in action. Tim Baird, head trainer at VWK9, speaks with passion about training dogs and training handlers. His love of dogs was amazing. Jeanne Brock started training dogs for American Kennel Club shows then moved to Tennessee where she trained dogs to detect crimes of arson. Now she trains prisoners to train bomb detection dogs. This is a small industry but it’s hard to imagine one that offers more bang for the buck.

I have to thank my friend and bridge partner, Kay McClain, for the endless hours of proof reading, editing, and the suggestions that she has made in the telling of this story. She’s been there every step of the way right down to making suggestions concerning font choices. Without her, there might only be a partially finished manuscript in a folder in the closet. With her, there is a finished product.

Thanks to the staff at Jefferson Correctional Facility in Monticello, Florida. I was impressed by their professionalism and their support of this project. When I was leaving, after one visit, an officer stopped me and said, You need to publish that book. I’d buy it. I smiled and worked hard for weeks, fueled by his comment.

Finally, I want to thank the family and friends who have gently encouraged me to write. It’s not easy, but the rewards are more than just the research. The best part for me has been the people that I have met along the way.

Chapter One: On the Run

Somewhere in the Apalachicola National Forest

The little boy looked up at his uncle walking beside him, I want to get a Mohawk!

His uncle shook his head. Your parents wouldn’t like that. They were walking to the drug store for a lemonade.

When they passed a tattoo parlor, the boy yelled, I want a tattoo!

Oh? What kind of tattoo would you get? his uncle asked.

The boy pointed to his pipe thin arm and said, I’d get a tattoo of Baxter and it would say, ‘Airedales Are Great!’

His uncle laughed. You can get that tattoo when you grow up.

The boy’s got tattoos, now. They run up and down both arms and across his back. But he didn’t get them from a tattoo parlor. They’re prison tats.

Laying a Trail

I’m prisoner N17244 but you can call me Jones. Everyone in here calls me Jones. I’m actually not even in here at the moment, but that’s how you think after a while. If you are not out of jail you’re always in. Right now, I’m running my ass off through the scrub woods of north Florida. Sometimes I wonder how I wound up in the panhandle. If you’re going to live in Florida why wouldn’t you live on the beach. Maybe if I lived on the beach I’d be on a boat right now fishing. You think about that kind of stuff in prison. I’ve been running for over eight miles. People get t-shirts for running in a 10K race which is only 6.2 miles on a road or a trail. I’m running through hard terrain on a hot August afternoon in heat and humidity that would make most men quit. I’m not wearing a shirt and my skin is getting punished, but I don’t give a damn. I’m running and I’m not behind the fence. Running is hard, but it’s not as hard as sitting in a cell and thinking about things that might have been.

I can hear the dogs getting closer and that’s not good.

I block out the fact that the officers and dogs chasing me have all the advantages. They can keep rotating fresh humans and animals until I drop. I’m an experienced athlete, first in high school and then in prison, so I’ve learned to excel in physically demanding situations. Keeping the head clear is the first rule of winning.

Ahead I see a winding dirt road that cuts through the pine forest. Parked on the road is what looks like a truck. As I get closer I see the hood of a prison canine truck. I drop to the ground and crawl through the undergrowth. Two more trucks pull into the clearing. I grit my teeth as brambles cut my skin. The beagles are getting closer and they can smell fresh scent. Beagles sing and whine when they get excited and they are singing now. I have to turn back and run towards the dogs. If I can get across that road, I’ll hit the swamp and have a chance to beat them. I can see the dogs tugging on their leashes and the dog handlers struggling behind them to keep up. The beagles haven’t caught scent of my doubling back. I’m going to make it.

My name is Guy Jones. I am serving a twelve-year sentence for a hit and run car accident that resulted in the death of an African American police officer in the state of Florida. His name was Michael. In my head we talk a lot.

When you land in jail you spend a lot of time thinking about the people you left behind and how to survive until you see them again. Forget what you’ve heard about prisons being soft. They are not; they are hard in ways you could never imagine. Once you finally reach the point when think you might survive you try to make your life in prison better. For some prisoners better might be finding a way to smuggle in contraband to make the days go more smoothly. For others it might be moving up the ranks in a gang in order to get a hundred little benefits that people on the outside would laugh at and ask, Is that all? Is that really worth it? But people on the outside don’t have a clue about what it takes to endure your time in prison. Only other prisoners understand. The guards think they understand, but they don’t.

When my uncle suggested we write down some of these experiences, I liked the idea because I wanted to get them on paper for my son Braxton. Braxton and I don’t know each other very well. I have been in prison since before Braxton was born. I regret time lost with Braxton most of all. No, that’s not right. I regret killing Michael most of all.

Let me start by explaining that I am the only inmate in the state of Florida prison system training dogs to trail people. For that reason, I am part of the training for multiple prisons. I am the rabbit they chase for miles in the scrub forests of the Florida panhandle. No one runs from dogs better than I do. However, running from dogs isn’t the only thing I have done in prison. I’ve been lucky to get to train dogs as well. At my last home, and home is a funny word for a prison, Bay Correctional Facility [Bay], I helped train bomb detection dogs for Auburn University and a company called Vapor Wake. I also trained therapy dogs and even a police dog. At Bay I earned a one-year Canine Sciences Certificate through Auburn University. That program gave me the foundation to earn an Associate Degree in Business Management.

When I do leave here my battles won’t be over. I need to build a life raft here in prison that will keep me from drowning when I get out. I’ve done the research. State prisoners have a six-month window after they get out to make the transition to the big world. If they don’t have a job and settle down within that time, ex-cons wind up back in jail.

Writing isn’t the only avenue I’ve had to share my experiences. I’ve had the opportunity to tell my story through public speaking engagements with prison officials, with other inmates, and with a local high school baseball team. The Secretary of the Department of Corrections encourages us to participate in these speaking engagements in the hope that others can learn from our mistakes.

We all make mistakes. That’s life. It’s how we respond to those mistakes that can make a difference. That’s a cliché, but it’s true. Choices determine our destination and how we make the journey. My hope is that someone, somewhere, will benefit from my life in prison as told in these stories.

Along the road I’ve been lucky to have the company of man’s best friend. It’s amazing what you can learn from a dog.

Tracking Theory 101

Here’s some of what I learned in my Canine class taught by Auburn University - War Eagle, y’all. Some of this you can find online. Check out Jeff Schettler, Police K9 Magazine, July 22, 2013. I had to read that. Funny. They have convicts reading police magazines. Here’s the down and dirty. In the old days, they thought tracking dogs could only smell an odor on the ground while their nose was pressed down close to the footprints. They trained the dogs with leads that actually pulled the dogs’ heads back down if they lifted their heads up. But that didn’t explain how dogs could follow people in urban environments - over concrete and asphalt. Basically, trainers were under estimating what a dog’s nose could do. The best article I ever read on the subject of dogs’ sense of smell was in Peter Tyson’s Dogs’ Dazzling Sense of Smell in Nova, Oct 3, 2012. Tyson quotes a Florida State professor who said a dog can identify the smell of a cup of coffee that has been stirred into an Olympic size swimming pool. That’s