Monkeys and Goats and Monkeys and Goats

I made the mistake of answering my phone. I thought perhaps someone had a quick law question, or wanted to know when the next hunter safety course would be. Instead I was on the phone for thirty minutes with Linda. The conversation was very random, and I had a hard time deciphering what exactly my role would be in the outcome. Here were some of her complaints:

Her neighbors were:


1. Stealing her goats.
2. Butchering her goats.
3. Shooting guns at the "bus" parked in her yard.
4. Trapping deer.
5. Shining her house. And deer. And her goats.
6. Harrassing her goats.
7. Building the fence on their property higher than is allowed by law. 8. Stealing "things" from her yard.
9. Moving "things" around in her yard.
10. Making her feel like she is crazy.

Sometime amidst her stream of complaints (mainly to get her off the phone) I told her I would come over and take a look at her property.

A few days later I called up a neighboring officer and asked him to come along with me to see Linda's place. I told him that I was questioning her sanity, but thought I could use a witness second opinion. And I promised to buy him lunch.

We arrived at Linda's place to find her not at home at the scheduled time. So, we got out of the truck and the first thing my partner said was, "Oh Boy". That about summed it up.

Let me paint a picture: there was a house that had been added on to, which had been added on to, which had been added on to; the windows of the house were boarded up; there was a chain link fence surrounding the property, though parts of it were collapsing so someone had MacGyvered the situation by stringing along black netting (like that you put on a dog kennel) to fill in the holes; there was a bus full (and I mean FULL) of rusted out random junk, trash and garbage her possessions; the yard hadn't seen the blades of a lawn mower in years (ever); there were piles of refuse more possessions scattered randomly around the yard; you get the idea. In other words, I was a little frightened of walking about the property for fear of falling down a hidden cavern full of goats (because I certainly couldn't see any on her property anywhere else).

As we were standing there aghast inspecting her property, Linda arrived. It is hard to sum up the following conversation except to say that numerous times she stated, "I know I sound crazy...I do. I know I sound crazy- but it is the neighbors that are making me seem like it." and "I know the place is a little bit of a mess, but it is hard to clean it up when you are being harrassed by the neighbors." and "the sheriff is out here all the time. You can talk to them. They will tell you I'm not crazy."

Long story short...I did some checking. I checked the backgrounds and hunting history of her neighbors. There wasn't any background of having had hunting licenses, which after much checking, I surmised it was because they weren't hunters. In my experience, most "poachers" are smart enough to buy a hunting license.

Then I called a friend sheriff's deputy. I only had to say Linda's address and the deputy said, "You mean the monkey lady?"
"The what?"
"The monkey lady. And the goat lady. She had so many monkeys in her house that we had to remove her from the house. The septic system was overloaded."
"From the monkeys? So the monkeys were using the toilets?"
"I guess so. She has been in and out of the mental ward for years."

Upon hearing this I started to laugh....then later it dawned on me- it was sad. I drove by her place later that day and found her sitting in her truck in the yard, watching the neighbors house. I counted my blessings and hoped that my children will never have to deal with a mental illness.

From then on, whenever I drive by her place- I'm reminded how lucky I have been. And I try to get a glance over her fence to make sure nobody is butchering her goats....you can never be too sure.

Help Me Grow!



Photo of the Day: Twisting Tree
Minnesota

 As you can see, I'm trying to grow some changes to improve my blog. I've added a couple of pages and moved stuff around.

I feel it is important to try to be a well rounded person. Sometimes for people who work in law enforcement (especially a job where you don't work a shift and therefore bring your job home with you), it is easy for your life to revolve around work. I want to incorporate some of my other interests into this blog...reading, photography and art among others. Please feel free to add comments or make book suggestions. I'm always looking for a good read!

You have no idea how much I appreciate those of you who regularily follow my blog (as irregular as my blog has been). Reading your comments is the highlight of my day sometimes. I wish I could get a few more followers, though I am not quite sure how (hint hint).

Wishing all of you a great day!

Fish Cop

Happy to Be Here

Photo of the Day: taken this morning-frost crystals

It was late October when I was driving through a state wildlife area in my territory. I noticed a black pickup parked in one of the parking lots, so I pulled in to see if I could decipher the activity of the owner based on the contents of his vehicle.

I hopped out of my truck and was walking towards the black pickup when I saw someone coming out of the woods nearby, carrying a shotgun. As he approached, the man greeted me with a friendly wave, and a "Good Morning Ma'am,". Sometimes when people call me Ma'am I am suspicious (the cynical side of me) that they are being overly friendly for a reason- like they are trying to hide the fact that they are indeed a dirtbag. But not this guy. His eyes were bright and kind-a true gentleman. The man was wearing camo pants and an old camo coat with a flannel shirt peeking out from the collar. He appeared to be in his late fifties.

We had a nice chat about the weather, and his lack of luck trying to get a fall turkey. Eventually the conversation lulled and the man chuckled and said, "Well, I suppose you came to check my license, not just listen to me talk. I've got a lifetime license (which means he had to be over 65 years old)" as he reached into his pocket to dig out his wallet. Because there is rarely a point in looking at someone's license when they actually offer to show it to you, I told him that I was really just interested in how his hunt went, and he needn't fish through his wallet and freeze his fingertips. The gentleman laughed and said, "Please let me show it to you- it will make it worth my money."

I obliged and took his license. Not paying much attention to the details aside from noticing that it was an old license, still the hand-written variety which isn't too common anymore.  I thanked him and wished his luck in the rest of his day. And that is when he said lightly, "Oh, I really don't care if I get anything. At my age, I'm just happy to be anywhere! I turn 88 years old next month."

88?!?

He went on to tell me that he a few years back he had decided that he probably wouldn't do too much hunting anymore, so he sold his nice collection of guns to a young man and was left with an old, junky single shot. But he didn't mind. Mr. 88 told me that he planned on heading home for a bite of lunch and then he would see where the day led him after that. The game plan for the next day (unless the wind was still whipping) was to take his canoe out on the marsh to see if he could shoot a duck or two.

I think I have a crush on an 88 year old man... or at least his attitude and outlook on life (though he was damn good looking for 88!). I complimented him on his ability to keep himself active and outside. Even though I am not 88 (I certainly hope to get there eventually), he demonstrated one of the great lessons we can all learn from: Take it one day at a time. Find the good in each day. Do what you love. Don't be afraid. And be happy to be alive.

Gut Feeling

Dear My Followers,

I am so sorry for my slacking. I have a few excuses lined up to dish out...mainly my 4 year old and 2 year old, my 4 month old german shorthair, my 6 year old lab, my husband, hunting season, Christmas preparations, and did I mention hunting season?  I've been bad about posting. It is a new year, and my ambitions are high. I think I will try to add maybe a "Photo of the Day" section to this blog, starting with this one (Maple: age 4 months):

I have a few tales from this hunting season I can't wait to tell you about....

However, since reading the story last night, my mind has been with Mt Ranier National Park Service Ranger Margaret Anderson and her family. We are often notified via email regarding law enforcement officers killed in the line of duty, but for some reason this one hits home. Maybe it is because she is about my age, with two children who are the ages of my two children.

Every time I think of the events that must have taken place yesterday morning, I find myself wearing her boots and sitting in her patrol vehicle. Would I have realized the potential danger? Honestly, I don't think so. So many times we, as officers, take our safety for granted more than we should. I think this problem runs deeper for fish and game officers and park rangers. Most people we run into are decent people. Most of the time people are compliant. Unfortunately it only takes one.

Today while on patrol, I thought of Margaret and what must have been going through her mind as she set up her vehicle for a road block. Did she see the vehicle coming toward her? Did the hair on the back of her neck stand up?

I thought of her children. Did they watch their mommy get her uniform on that morning? Did they tell her they loved her? Did she tell them?

I thought of her husband. Did he hear the radio traffic? Did he hear his wife's call for help? Were his first thoughts about her or their children?

If only there was something to say to make sense out of it. There isn't. At least I can't think of anything. She should have finished our her shift. She should have gone home to her kids to make them macaroni and cheese for supper. She should have spent the first night of the new year in bed with her husband. She was a mom, and a ranger, and a wife, and it she shouldn't have been stolen from her family and ours by her random encounter with a desperate armed man.

I don't get it. And I can't stop thinking about it. All I know is that from now on I will follow my gut: no vehicle stop I make will be "routine", no person I encounter will be harmless, and every time I leave for work I will remind my daughter and son that no matter what, I love them more than they will ever know.