Co-workers raise cash for friend’s new service dog
NASHVILLE — Cody Joss knew he was paralyzed right after his head smacked the ground.
Dizzy, Joss could only move his head, which he lifted slightly.
“Help!” he shouted. “I can’t get up!”
That evening in May 2001 started as a high school graduation celebration, partying with friends in Cancun, Mexico.
While he was walking back to his hotel by himself that night, a group of guys started yelling at him and chasing him. As the men approached, Joss launched himself over a wall.
But his foot got caught, and he landed on his head and broke his neck.
Joss regained full consciousness weeks later, after he was flown to Vanderbilt University Medical Center and had an eighthour surgery there.
“I couldn’t process that I couldn’t walk for life,” he said, eyes shining with tears.
Joss went to a rehab facility in Atlanta where he learned how to make use of the small movement in his arms. He learned to eat, to drive a wheelchair, to get ready for work.
Even as he had successes, Joss battled depression, unable to see a future for himself.
“You don’t see a lot of people in wheelchairs around, so you can’t see what you can do,” he said. “The hardest thing about the disability is the mental aspect.”
He went on to UT a year later and moved into an apartment by himself. He started thinking about getting a service dog.
CONVICTED MURDERER SEEKS PURPOSE
Robert, 33, is serving two life sentences at Turney Center state prison in tiny Only, Tenn., a rural town of about 2,000. He cannot be identified by last name because of state law.
Robert works in a program in which inmates train dogs to help people in wheelchairs, help people with emotional and mental challenges, help people with all sorts of disabilities.
The trainers — over about 18 months — teach the dogs to flush toilets, get drinks out of the refrigerator, give hugs, turn on lights, pick up things that owners drop and more. In all, each dog learns about 200 commands, with both verbal cues and hand signals so dogs can serve deaf people as well.
Robert bonded with his dogs immediately, for most of the same reasons any dog owner does — loyalty, affection, connection. For inmates, that’s even more important, he said.
“Being locked up, we don’t have any physical contact anymore,” Robert said. “It’s nice being loved just for being you. You can’t help but fall in love.”
GAINING AND LOSING
Through a dog trainer friend, Joss found a black lab mix he named Wrigley, in honor of the baseball field where Joss loved watching Cubs games as a kid.
Wrigley picked up anything Joss dropped — cellphone, granola bars, pencils — but he ended up serving a much more important function: icebreaker.
With Wrigley, strangers and UT students felt much more comfortable approaching Joss when he was out and about in his wheelchair.
After a few months, man and dog bonded, and Joss enjoyed the affection of a pet for the first time in his life.
“Sometimes, I’d leave without him, and I’d see how excited he would get when I came home,” he said. “That’s when I really knew it was love.”
Joss finished college, and he landed a job in the finance department at Bridgestone in Nashville, where his colleagues also fell in love with Wrigley.
Wrigley “worked” at Bridgestone for about 10 years.
“Then one day at work, we noticed that Wrigley was walking like he couldn’t keep his balance. He stumbled and tipped into the wall,” Joss said.
The veterinarian put Wrigley down a few days later. Joss, surrounded by his parents, his sister and some close friends, cried.
“It was heartbreaking,” he said.
MEETING MACK
Robert’s next puppy chose him. The service-dog trainers, from Brentwood-based Retrieving Independence, brought 10 puppies to Turney Center and turned them out in the yard.
A puppy stopped in front of him, barked once and ran off, looking over its shoulder to see if Robert was following it. That was Mack, a 2-month-old golden retriever.
Meanwhile, Joss started reaching out to agencies to look for a new service dog. He was surprised by the cost — about $20,000.
Joss’ sister, McKenzie, worked with Sandra Rutherford at Bridgestone to lead the fundraising. Joss’ friend Ryan Robison coordinated with the agency Retrieving Independence.
The next month, Joss headed into a work meeting, but the conference room was packed with colleagues, friends and relatives.
It started out as a wake of sorts for Wrigley, but at the end, the colleagues surprised him with the news that he’d be getting a new service dog for free.
Co-workers had collected $18,000, and Bridgestone corporate added more so Joss would be able to get a dog and take care of all of its needs.
“Very, very emotional,” Joss said. “It was a roller coaster, to say the least. I’m sad about Wrigley, but then I get this wonderful news about this new dog. It was amazing.”
‘I SEE HAPPINESS’
In June, Joss went to Turney Center for a matching day, when dogs and recipients meet each other and determine which dog belongs with which person.
Mack trotted up to Joss, and Joss met his dog’s trainers.
“It was so motivating to hear Cody’s story,” Robert said. “It’s inspirational.
“He has a good job, works hard, he’s independent. He hasn’t let that one moment in time hold him down.”
Joss said he’s looking forward to life with Mack, who recently graduated from service dog school.
“I see happiness. I see a great dog I’m going to be able to show off. And everybody’s going to love him around the office,” he said, beaming.
Reach Brad Schmitt at brad@ tennessean.com or 615-259-8384 and on Twitter @bradschmitt.