Animal House

Marin's Very Human Humane Society

Story and Photos by Tim Porter

Diane Allevato, Retiring Director of the Hume Society and her Australian Shepherds, Kit and Dale

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Perhaps more than anything, Allevato wants people to value the lives of animals, whether they’re sitting on our laps, providing eggs for our breakfasts or chewing on green West Marin grass in preparation for becoming a juicy T-bone.

“Someone once said to me,” she says, “‘Why don’t you have a big sale? Sale! Sale! Two cats for the price of one!’ And I said, ‘Look, maybe we can adopt a few more animals that way, but aren’t we really undermining what we’re all about? Aren’t we promoting the fact that they’re valuable, sentient, living creatures that deserve care?’ So we don’t have sales. It’s not business as usual. We do have an agenda.”

Party Animal Time

The Marin Humane Society will celebrate its 100th anniversary this year with a free daylong party on June 3.

The event includes demonstrations of flyball, Frisbee and other canine contests, a pet talent show, opportunities to talk with vets and animal behavior experts and, of course, cake.

It begins at 10:30 a.m. and goes until 3 p.m. at the society, 171 Bel Marin Keys Blvd., Novato.

Details available at 415.506.6201 or marinhumanesociety.org

Pooches in Prison

There are dozens of well-behaved dogs walking around Marin County today that have done time in San Quentin.

Some might be shepherds or chows or shar-peis, but most are typical all-American mutts and all are graduates of Pen Pals, a Marin Humane Society program that pairs up wayward canines in need of care with convicted felons in need of caring.

Pen Pals places dogs that are either sick or don’t behave well around people with inmates assigned to San Quentin Fire Department. The dogs live with the prisoners in the firehouse, which faces Richardson Bay on the west side of the prison, from several weeks to several months until the Humane Society determines they are ready for adoption. Volunteers from the society work with the inmates twice a week on training the dogs. More than 70 dogs and more than 20 inmates have participated since Pen Pals began in May 2005.

Pen Pals was the brainchild of Larry Carson, a retired Marin contractor who heard about similar “cell dogs” programs on an

Animal Planet TV show. Carson, a Humane Society volunteer and dog evaluator, pitched the idea to the society, traveled to Nevada State Prison to see it in action and convinced San Quentin to give it a try.

Nearly 40 percent of Pen Pals dogs have medical issues, says Carson, often a heartworm infection, a potentially fatal mosquito-borne parasite. Treatment requires medicine and long-term rest, and the latter can be hard to come by in typical foster homes for pets. Time, though, is something San Quentin prisoners have plenty of and Humane Society’s success rate with sick dogs has improved thanks to the care the convicts provide. “It’s the kind of thing we haven’t been able to treat very successfully because we haven’t had these wonderful, long-term caretakers,” says society spokeswoman Sheri Cardo.

Many Pen Pals dogs are shy, which makes them poor adoption candidates. They may avoid people or bite out of fear. “A dog that is undersocialized is really sort of scared of a lot of things,” Carson says. “He’s sort of shut down. In our evaluation process, we try to determine if that dog is safe but just needs time to come out, to trust people.”

That trust comes from living 24/7 with the San Quentin firefighters. The inmates have their own rooms—modest by any standards, but a prison perk for being in the fire department—and the dogs share their quarters, sometimes even their beds.

In return for providing companionship and training for their canine charges, the inmates get something in short supply within the razor-wired walls of San Quentin—affection and purpose.

“It gives them an opportunity to do something more constructive with their time,” says Carson. “It gives them an opportunity to give something back to the community and it teaches them responsibility.”

On a recent weekday afternoon, Jason Burton, one of the San Quentin firefighters, stood on a small patch of green grass next to the firehouse telling a film crew from the MSNBC prison series Lockup about his relationship with Harlon, a Humane Society dog that had just spent a month with Burton.

“She’s got a lot of love,” says Burton. “Life can get a little cold around here and she kinds of warms me up.”

Burton, a tall, good-looking young man, was due to leave Quentin in 12 days on parole, and planned to head back home to San Jose with a better attitude than the one he arrived with four years earlier. Pen Pals is partly responsible, he says.

“It made me feel better about myself,” says Burton. “It taught me to not always put myself first, to care about other living things.”

Image: Brian Harkness works with a Humane Society Dog at San Quentin