By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By Keegan Hamilton and Francisco Alvarado
By Jake Rossen
By Allie Conti
By Kyle Swenson
By Chris Joseph
By Michael E. Miller
Susan Gillis, archivist for the Boca Raton Historical Society, says the dissing of Boca Raton began in the '80s, shortly after the city voted on a growth cap that got overturned by the state legislature. That's when the snob label started getting thrown around and people began using the cliché "quality of life" in association with the city's palmy mansions. The din still hasn't stopped, Gillis says. She chalks it up to the beautiful landscape and warm weather of which other cities are clearly envious.
Lewis says that, in truth, he likes a lot of things about Boca. The warmth and the greenery, the golf courses, the beach, the fishing. Of course, at the moment, retirement anywhere isn't looking like an option for him. "Boca is prospering a lot better than I am," he says. Maybe, if the book becomes a bestseller...
Tailpipe has always been a sucker for a good doggy story. This one is about an extraordinary nun with an eye for canine potential.
When Sister Pauline Quinn heard that Central Bark Doggy Day Care, the upscale doggy "daycare" and grooming outfit, was offering a summer program for dogs and their owners at its Wisconsin location, she asked to come check it out. Sitting around a campfire, she explained how she had been abused as a child; how she ran away only to get caught and bounced among various juvenile institutions; how she stopped talking to people entirely and lived as a mute. It wasn't until she adopted a German shepherd named Joni that she felt safe; the dog helped her heal and, eventually, converse with people again.
"I learned unconditional love from her," Quinn tells the 'Pipe. "She became the bridge to meet other people and start to talk. People would come up and say, 'Oh, what a beautiful dog!'" Not to mention an intimidating dog. "She gave me more power," Quinn says. "People are a little afraid of German shepherds. Everybody would treat me with respect. It was really interesting how that worked and how the dog could help build self-esteem."
Several years and a few dogs later, Quinn became a nun. In 1981, she developed the Prison Pet Partnership Program. She rescues animals from shelters, brings them to prisons, helps prisoners train them, and then matches each dog with a handicapped person who needs assistance.
"I wanted to give inmates an opportunity to give back to society," Quinn says. (For more about Quinn, get the movie Within These Walls, in which Laura Dern plays the now-64-year-old sister. So "people know me as a tall, blond, thin lady," Quinn quips. "I was happy about that!")
Now, Chris Gaba, co-founder of Central Bark and proprietor of its Fort Lauderdale location, is implementing Quinn's program with a twist. Influenced by Central Bark volunteer Lt. Col. Connie Christensen, a retired Army nurse who told him how dogs have helped serve in every major military conflict since the Civil War, Gaba launched Dog Bless America a campaign to buy bulletproof vests and cooling blankets for 300 service dogs working with American forces in the Middle East.
As an extension of that, Gaba's now helping the Prison Pet program match dogs with veterans coming back from Iraq. Monetary donations for dog food and equipment are the biggest need it takes 15 months and $12,000 to house and train each animal. Other than that, Gaba says, they're just trying to find Iraq vets who would best benefit from the program. "We have two dogs ready to go." For more about Dog Bless America, see www.centralbarkusa.com.
As told to Edmund Newton