Educated by a Dog: 25 Lessons I learned from the life of my K9 partner

About a month ago I had to put my partner down. She was a 12 year old lab/Chesapeake mix. She rode along on patrol with me for her entire life. She lived to go to work. Though she wasn't trained to sniff drugs, she sniffed her share of birds, entertained me, was an extra set of eyes and ears, and was my constant partner and friend. She developed a massive tumor on her spleen and I had to make a decision for my partner. Her collar hangs from my rearview mirror of my squad now and the truck is a much lonelier place. Out of habit, I still say, "Stay" every time I get out of my truck. Here is a list of 25 things I learned from her life:

25. Don't let anyone lead you down a path you don't want to take. Dig in your heels, put your head down, and charge forward in your own direction.

24. Be tolerant of children...to a point.

23. Give strangers the benefit of the doubt. Greet everyone with an enthusiastic smile and a kiss until they give you reason not to.

22. Baby bunnies are fun playmates...until they stop squealing.

21. There is more to a walk than walking. Go out of your way to splash through puddles, get your tongue tickled by cicadas, and do somersaults in the grass.

20. Quit worrying about whether you wll be able to stand up unassisted tomorrow and climb the hill right now- there might be something good up there. If not, it is still better than staying at the bottom.

19. Don't ask what lives in that hole. Stick your head in, take a good whiff, and start digging. Curiosity only kills cats.

18. Just because everyone else fetches on command does not mean that you have to. You are an individual-think for yourself. But it isn't a bad idea to humor them now and then.

17. One animal's waste is another's perfume (or snack). Re-purpose.

16. When it comes to dropped food, the five second rule applies. So does the two week rule.

15. Halitosis is in the nose of the beholder. My people love me just the way I am.

14. Lively conversation is not a requirement of a good friendship. A silent shadow can be more comfort than a thousand words.

13. No matter what anyone tells you to the contrary, there is no fun to be had at the doctor.

12. Don't be self-conscious. When you are happy, run like you have a worm in your brain; when you are sad, put your head down and sit quietly until someone notices; if you have an itch, scratch it; if something needs to be cleaned, lick it.

11. Forgive and forget. Quickly.

10. Love your work. At least appreciate going for a ride and watching the world go by.

9. Chasing birds in a dream can be just as much fun as chasing birds while awake. Use your imagination.

8. Performing tricks for treats is just silly. Stare at them until they give you one.

7. Don't waste a good snow day.

6. You only get one chance at this life, so live it for all it is worth...unless you are really sleepy, in which case a nap is good too.

5. Don't let a few gray hairs get your down. They indicate you have reached alpha status and no longer need to listen.

4. Macaroni and cheese, doughnuts, and bacon are always worth the resulting stomachache. Just remember that consuming carpet, Elmo underwear, and blankets won't make it feel better.

3. Christmas songs by Alvin and the Chipmunks reach unnatural and confusing decibels. They should be banned from the radio.

2. Be there for your friend. Always.

1. Leave your mark wherever you go. Make people glad to have known you.

10 Things I Secretly Enjoy Saying to Violators

Don't get me wrong, I'd rather nobody poach, or drive off road at a wildlife area, litter or drive a boat while drunk...BUT if I catch someone sometimes I secretly take pleasure in saying:

1. That's good, because I don't think I want you to come back to this state to hunt either.
2. That's funny, because I've been watching you for a half hour and that isn't what I saw.
3. Well, if you are a cop that means you probably should have known better.

4. You might have wanted to think about the fact that it is a two-wheel drive before you left the road. Now I have to impound it.
5. I personally don't think it was a good idea to dump your garbage out here...especially since it contained some x-rated photos of you. That isn't your wife is it?
6. Are you sure that is the story you want to go with?
7. See that? That is a camera. You are on it.
8. I've been called worse.
9. How many is "a couple"?
10. Sorry Sir, that was a decoy you just shot.

Time to Get Off the Water!

Glad we got the patrol boat off the water before this one hit...and glad I had the camera!

Rookie Mistake Part III

Continued from Rookie Mistake Part II

If someone were watching this disaster unfold, I’m sure the first words that would have sprung to mind when I turned and ran after the car, would have been “Barney Fife!” My legs couldn’t decide which direction to run…after the car…no, back to my truck…no, after the car. I may have looked like a moron, but at least I stopped short of firing off a warning shot. Approximately ten yards into my sprint I realized that my basketball coach was right when he not-so politely reminded me of just how slow I really was, by screaming “Pick up the piano!”

I finally made a decision and went for my truck. Thet tires kicked up gravel as I took off after the Pontiac. By this time there was a sheriff’s deputy close by, so I gave him an updated location and started praying that he might hurry up and HELP. We weaved through some more country roads.

Turns out Mrs. Knorr did have a destination in mind. Her-ex husband’s house was just down the road and she was making a beeline for it. Approximately 50 yards from the entrance to the driveway, the deputy screamed past my truck and squeezed past the Pontiac. He hit the brakes and brought his squad to a stop. Mrs. Knorr didn’t seem especially worried about making a timely stop, but managed it anyway with about one foot to spare behind the deputy’s car. Another deputy pulled up behind the first and all three of us approached the Pontiac.

We were all a bit worked up by now, and the deputy began screaming at Mrs. Knorr to “Get out of the car!” or something along those lines. But she didn’t really want to, so she stayed planted in the driver’s seat. Just as she started to lean over and reach beneath the driver’s seat, the second deputy opened the door and pulled her out. She thrashed and kicked and swore, all the while exhibiting super-human strength. Before it was all said and done, all four of us were on the ground and someone managed to get handcuffs on. I’m surprised in the melee that the handcuffs actually made it onto the right person.

We stood up and were brushing the gravel dust off our pants when we heard a young girl say, “Thank you for getting her.”

We looked up to see a dark haired girl, around sixteen years old, standing in the middle of the road.

“I’m her daughter. Can you take her to the hospital? She needs help. She’s gonna kill someone,” she said.

“How long has she been drinking like this?” one of the deputies asked.

“For as long as I can remember,” she said.

My heart dropped into my stomach. I wanted to give the girl a hug and tell her that everything would be ok, that her mother would be ok. But we both knew that it wouldn’t.

While the deputies searched Mrs. Knorr’s car I walked the girl back to the house. I explained what the procedure would be with her mother and she thanked me again.

“Guess we are lucky we didn’t get zapped,” the first deputy said as I arrived back at the squad. He pointed to a stun gun lying on the hood of the car. “She was reaching for that right before we yanked her out.”

I thought back to my attempted traffic stop with her and about how had the stun gun had been just a plain old gun, how easily she could have shot me as I walked back to my truck.

One of the deputies transported Mrs. Knorr to the law enforcement center and into the interview room where we would ask for a breath sample to determine her blood alcohol level. As soon  as I walked into the room which was wired for audio and video, she started began her rant. The following quotes are taken directly from my incident report…exactly how I typed it.

Knorr said, “Fucking DNR, fucking bitch. You know what? Somebody is going to shoot you. I know a whole lot of people that are out to get you, you dike. Dike fucking bitch, they are going to shoot your ass. Shoot you in the head. Shoot your head off.”

The deputy asked Mrs. Knorr who she was going to shoot, apparently wanting to get her threat against me on video.

Knorr replied, “I can’t stand her fucking ass, and neither can anyone in the neighborhood, they all want to fucking shoot her ass. Ask anyone. The Petersons don’t like you, they all want to shoot her ass. Shoot her in the head when she is not looking. She’s a dike fucking bitch. She’s a dike fucking bitch. Look at it.”

Oh, I could feel the love. Aside from making a mental note to lock my doors at night, the other important lesson I learned from this encounter is that spell-check does not correct you when you type ‘dike’ instead of ‘dyke’. According to the Pocket Oxford American Dictionary, ‘dike’ means: an embankment built to prevent flooding from the sea. And ‘dyke’ means: a lesbian. Believe it or not, this little error bothered me for weeks after the trial.

In my defense, I had never used this particular term before. I have friends that are lesbians, and I have the feeling that ‘dyke’ isn’t on the list of things I should casually call them. In fact, I’d never called anyone names at all to their face aside from the occasional, “What a moron, dumb-ass, or jerk”, that I yelled inside my head and which I caught before it could exit my mouth. But what did the county attorney think when he read my report? Or worse, the judge? Oh, they would surely think I was an idiom…I mean idiot.

At the end of a fiasco like this, some officers might have looked back at all the mistakes they had made and vow to change next time. But there were so many mistakes to choose from, where was I to begin? I chose the one easiest to never repeat: if someone calls me dyke again (which was and is well within the realm of possibility), I will never again misspell it.

Perhaps Mrs. Knorr said it best when, according to my report, right before we booked her into jail she said,

“There are four people who want to fucking kill her. It’s none of my business. It’s out of my hands now.”

Unfortunately the report containing all the mistakes I made were laid out for everyone to read--that too, is out of my hands now.