Seeing Eye What!
(C) James J Alonzo
At 3 AM, One warm summer evening, Jack, my partner was driving the patrol vehicle and I was riding shotgun. As we were driving down route 5 in Evans, New York, we came upon a mustang convertible, top down enjoying the summer breeze. However the driver was driving erratically, staying on the right side of the road, but drifting side to side of the highway, so we assumed this may be a DWI, 'driving while intoxicated' bust.
We followed him to see if this was just a fluke, but we were right, however there was an oddity,
"Jack, what's that on his left shoulder?" I asked
"Shit, I don't know." Jack responded, and hit lights and siren. "It looks like some kind of a hat?"
The driver increased his speed, and because of the speed increase, more defined erratic driving. As we got closer, I could see the driver was wearing one of the baseball caps with the bill facing the read of the car, and next to his head,
"It's a bird!" I shouted,
"Shut up! That's not a bird!"
"I'm telling you, he had a large bird on his shoulder! Maybe he's a pirate!! We never arrested aerate!"
I love taunting Jack, and we loved haranguing each other and every opportunity.
"Shut up! A Pirate, you're an idiot!"
As the driver finally slowed down, and finally pulled over, we pulled behind the Mustang,
"Jim, it's a damn bird on his shoulder!"
"I told you! I bet he's some kind of pirate!" I taunted Jack.
As we approached the vehicle, I placed myself on the passenger side of the Mustang convertible. Jack walked up to the driver's side. It was easy to look in the vehicle since the top was down. Looking in the car we saw the driver was wearing very dark glasses, and wearing a live red & blue colored McCaw parrot on his shoulder.*
"WATCH IT PUKEFACE!" squawked the bird. It spoke real loud.**
When the bird squawked, it was loud, Jack reactively jumped back, then stepped forward again. **
"Sir were you drinking tonight?"
"No I wasn't drinking!" replied the driver.
"Sir, driver's license, registration, and insurance card." Jack asked the driver extending his hand.
"Watch out Jack!" i was Laughing at Jack's reaction, "Killer parrot!"
"It's not a killer parrot!" insisted the driver, "it's my seeing eye bird."
"IT'S THE FUZZ! " squawked the parrot! "PIG! LOOK OUT!"
"Shhh! Precious," said the driver to the parrot. Then to Jack, "I don't have a driver's license, because I'm blind. That's why I have a seeing eye parrot."
This was going to be entertaining, because I know Jack doesn't have much patience when he encounters the weird, and this was weird. Besides that, the volume of this parrot's squawks was really loud, and it kind of hurt your hearing.
"Yeah right!" said Jack sarcastically, looking at me wondering if this was a prank. "I saw you driving, give me your drivers license!"
"EAT SHIT PIG!" squawked Precious.
I reached over in front of the driver's eyes and moved my hand back and forth,
"Yep, the driver's blind Jack."
"Of course I'm blind you jerk! I told you that!"
"STUPID PIG! STUPID PIG!" squawked the parrot at me, cracking me up.
"Sir, do you have any identification?" Jack asked pissed. I was laughing at this situation, and Jack's discomfort.
The driver gave us his Identification, his name was Norman Dehn, and it was true, he was blind and had an Americans with disabilities I D card.
"Sir, first of all you cannot drive if you are blind, that's the law! Second, you can not drive with a parrot telling YOU how to drive!"
"Why not, it's my seeing eye parrot, and it was trained to sit on my shoulder and warn me about obstacles and such. It speaks up to four word sentences."
"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE PIG!" squawked the bird as it tried to nip Jack.
Jack looked at me in his frustration, and with a smile, I hand signaled to Jack that perhaps he should shoot the bird!
"Sir out of the car, and keep that damn bird under control."
"SHUT UP PIG!" squawked Precious. Damn, that bird was loud!
I just had to ask, how that bird worked into being made a seeing eye parrot. Mr Dehn explained that he all his life was able to see however, one day his eyes bothering him, his doctor told him he was going blind. He went home to his pet parrot, that he had for a few years, and as alway the bird chatted away with him. Then it struck him, why can't the bird learn to see for him, after all parrots were as smart as dogs, maybe more.
So he trained the bird to tell him if something was in the way, or tell him to turn left or right, and after a year the bird had caught on. The bird had a huge vocabulary, knew words like coffee table, steps, step up, step down, duck, turn left, turn right, but also sword like a sailor.
Jack and I watched Mr. Dehn get out of his vehicle, the bird on his shoulder,
"Precious, take me to the car." Mr.Dehn said.
"TURN AROUND! WALK!" squawked the bird.
Mr. Dehn turned and walk towards the patrol vehicle. After Jack opened the door,
"Get in the car Mr. Dehn."
"DUCK YOU HEAD!" squawked the bird.
We took him home and didn't charge him. Mr. Dehn called the owner of the car and told them where to pick up the car.
On the way back I was thinking of another idea,
"You know Jack, I was thinking."
"I don't want to hear it!"
"Why don't we start a training academy for seeing eye parrots?"
"No, leave me alone! you and your hair brain ideas, professional mourners, and now seeing eye parrot academy!"
*******
*Macaws are social birds and need plenty of interaction. They can be very loud.
** A macaw can scream at over 105 dB. (decibals). Macaws are highly intelligent. Some may talk, others may never talk.
Macaws can live 30+ years. For some of the larger macaws 80-100 isn't unheard of.
Intelligence of a 3-8 year old child, emotional range of a 2-3 year old child, may throw tantrums to get attention, great sense of humor, can tease you and other members of your family (including other pets), require a lot of attention, can be very demanding, need to be kept busy with attention, toys, and training, love to chew, love showers, some species are good family birds, some are prone to becoming one-person birds, some are described as clownish, energetic, playful, like to roughhouse, some can be nippy and aggressive, some love to cuddle.
***********************
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Attack From The Rear!
Attack On The Rear!
(C) James J Alonzo
I worked as a K-9 officer with Saber was my K-9. He had become a Great partner and between the two of us, we trained each other well. As the Saber was a very good dog, however the hardest part was getting around his independent streak, and his willingness to argue with me, sometime at the most inopportune times.
When the leash was connected to Saber's collar, and I was holding the leash, I commanded. The dog was very obedient and versatile and was very good at tracking, locating drugs, and intimidating crowds.
However Saber never got over his exuberance to bite. Sometimes when I was cleaning his kennel, saber would sneak up behind me and nip me in the ass. This was his way of telling me,
"I want to play, so hurry up!"
One night, I got a call, 'burglary in progress', so it was lights and siren all the way. This was another problem with Saber, fir he would stand directly behind my head, and against the screen or cage, he would bark all the way!
"Will you shut up!" I'd shouted.
Saber would pounce against the cage banging it so hard, my head would rattle,
"BANG!"
I thought he was going to break it! When Saber and I got there, I opened the rear door once I had the leash in hand. The second patrol vehicle showed up, and I said,
"Take the rear!"
The house was one of those large mansions that had very large chain link connected to poles that stood a mere three feet above the ground. The chain drooped between the poles at a height of two feet, more for decoration than security. I ran up the front door it was secure, but Saber caught a scent that went off to the side, towards the woods.
"Search Saber, search!"
I radio backup and told him the situation, and I heard him coming around the house towards us. I could see tracks in the snow, I took off running, Saber running along side of me. When we got to the chain links, I didn't slow down, and jumped over the lowest part of the hanging chain.
I knew I was in trouble when I felt the rearward jerk and at the same time seeing my feet shoot up to the height of my vision!
"OOOMFFF!"
When I jumped the chain links, Saber decided that no one had trained him to jump fences, low hanging chains, short bushes, so he sat his 175 lb body down! As I laid there trying to suck in air from any orifice, into my lungs, I heard the other officer run past us laughing,
"Want me to call back up, or get you a ladder for your dog??"
****
(For two weeks after that incident, I worked with Saber jumping over obstacles. By the time I was finished he had no trouble jumping over four foot high fences, nor climbing ladders)
****
Except for the occasional ass bite, I enjoyed having the dog for back up. When I made a traffic stop, I would leave the driver's side window open, as well as the cage between the front seat and the kennel - which was in the rear seat area. That way the dog could respond if I called for him.
One night, I made a traffic stop on a very noisy drunk driver. The driver was much larger than I and apparently thought he could take me on. I called for back up, and immediately pushed him up against the auto. Ducking a slow loping right hook, I easily handled him, and had him up against the trunk of his car and had just gotten the handcuffs on. Suddenly, Saber over excited by the the commotion of the arrest, appeared next to me and bit the drunk driver in the ass.
"Shit!, " shouted the perp.
I didn't say a thing, just looked down at the dog in astonishment! I snapped my arm, hand pointed Saber to our car! The dog, suddenly aware that he was in deep trouble, ran back to the patrol vehicle, jumped in the driver's side window, and into the kennel in the rear seat.
The drunk driver apparently never saw the dog. When the backup patrol vehicle showed up to transport the perp, the officer placed the drunk driver in the rear seat of the vehicle.
When I got into our vehicle I was pissed,
" You are a sorry excuse for a police K-9, sneaking up on that perp and biting him? Shame on you!"
Saber, instead of barking at me, just laid down on the seat and didn't make a sound. I drove to the station and on arrival, I left Saber in the vehicle to pout.
"You should feel bad!" I said enjoying Saber's discomfort.
When the officer brought the drunk driver into the jail where the rest of us were waiting, the outraged driver said,
"i want to lodge a complaint! Do you know what this deputy did?" "He bit me in the ass!"
********
(C) James J Alonzo
I worked as a K-9 officer with Saber was my K-9. He had become a Great partner and between the two of us, we trained each other well. As the Saber was a very good dog, however the hardest part was getting around his independent streak, and his willingness to argue with me, sometime at the most inopportune times.
When the leash was connected to Saber's collar, and I was holding the leash, I commanded. The dog was very obedient and versatile and was very good at tracking, locating drugs, and intimidating crowds.
However Saber never got over his exuberance to bite. Sometimes when I was cleaning his kennel, saber would sneak up behind me and nip me in the ass. This was his way of telling me,
"I want to play, so hurry up!"
One night, I got a call, 'burglary in progress', so it was lights and siren all the way. This was another problem with Saber, fir he would stand directly behind my head, and against the screen or cage, he would bark all the way!
"Will you shut up!" I'd shouted.
Saber would pounce against the cage banging it so hard, my head would rattle,
"BANG!"
I thought he was going to break it! When Saber and I got there, I opened the rear door once I had the leash in hand. The second patrol vehicle showed up, and I said,
"Take the rear!"
The house was one of those large mansions that had very large chain link connected to poles that stood a mere three feet above the ground. The chain drooped between the poles at a height of two feet, more for decoration than security. I ran up the front door it was secure, but Saber caught a scent that went off to the side, towards the woods.
"Search Saber, search!"
I radio backup and told him the situation, and I heard him coming around the house towards us. I could see tracks in the snow, I took off running, Saber running along side of me. When we got to the chain links, I didn't slow down, and jumped over the lowest part of the hanging chain.
I knew I was in trouble when I felt the rearward jerk and at the same time seeing my feet shoot up to the height of my vision!
"OOOMFFF!"
When I jumped the chain links, Saber decided that no one had trained him to jump fences, low hanging chains, short bushes, so he sat his 175 lb body down! As I laid there trying to suck in air from any orifice, into my lungs, I heard the other officer run past us laughing,
"Want me to call back up, or get you a ladder for your dog??"
****
(For two weeks after that incident, I worked with Saber jumping over obstacles. By the time I was finished he had no trouble jumping over four foot high fences, nor climbing ladders)
****
Except for the occasional ass bite, I enjoyed having the dog for back up. When I made a traffic stop, I would leave the driver's side window open, as well as the cage between the front seat and the kennel - which was in the rear seat area. That way the dog could respond if I called for him.
One night, I made a traffic stop on a very noisy drunk driver. The driver was much larger than I and apparently thought he could take me on. I called for back up, and immediately pushed him up against the auto. Ducking a slow loping right hook, I easily handled him, and had him up against the trunk of his car and had just gotten the handcuffs on. Suddenly, Saber over excited by the the commotion of the arrest, appeared next to me and bit the drunk driver in the ass.
"Shit!, " shouted the perp.
I didn't say a thing, just looked down at the dog in astonishment! I snapped my arm, hand pointed Saber to our car! The dog, suddenly aware that he was in deep trouble, ran back to the patrol vehicle, jumped in the driver's side window, and into the kennel in the rear seat.
The drunk driver apparently never saw the dog. When the backup patrol vehicle showed up to transport the perp, the officer placed the drunk driver in the rear seat of the vehicle.
When I got into our vehicle I was pissed,
" You are a sorry excuse for a police K-9, sneaking up on that perp and biting him? Shame on you!"
Saber, instead of barking at me, just laid down on the seat and didn't make a sound. I drove to the station and on arrival, I left Saber in the vehicle to pout.
"You should feel bad!" I said enjoying Saber's discomfort.
When the officer brought the drunk driver into the jail where the rest of us were waiting, the outraged driver said,
"i want to lodge a complaint! Do you know what this deputy did?" "He bit me in the ass!"
********
Monday, February 6, 2012
One Hell Of An Emergency
One Hell Of An Emergency
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
In the police department there are low crime shifts where there is one officer patrols, and during the high crime periods there may be two officers to a car patrol. Otherwise your partner will be in one patrol car and you in another. The idea being that two patrol vehicles can patrol more area, with occasional backup for certain potentially violent calls, like domestics.
I was the second man out and was the "back up car" I was sitting on rt 5 in Evan, NY, our main road just monitoring traffic when my partner Jack flew by, lights and sirens, he was flying!
I drove out behind him and hit my lights and floored the Patrol vehicle. I couldn't believe that I missed a hot call. I tried to radio Jack on our side band for private communication, to see what he was responding too,
"11 west to 12 west, what's your call?" I radioed on the side band, not wanting dispatch to know I had no clue what Jack was doing.
I still had a little trouble hearing calls, especially when you shared calls with the Sheriff's Department, Village of Angola police, Evans Police and Hamburg. But I wasn't going to let on that I was in the dark.
I figured if my partner was running wide open, I should too. As we flew over railroad crossings, leaving a path of sparks from the bottoms of our vehicles hitting the ground so hard after being airborne for a few seconds!
I saw him kill the lights as we entered Jack's neighborhood, so I did the same. Now I was beginning to wondered if there was trouble at his house and worried about his wife and son Jeff! When my partner turned off his headlights as we turned onto his road…I did the same.
When he pulled into his drive and I saw him exit the car running, I took off after him drawing my pistol and ran towards the house that he had ran into. The door was open so I raced into the house and surprisingly passed Jack's wife who was just standing there holding the door?
"What the Hell's going on?, I asked, and walked in.
"Jim, relax, Jack had too much Mexican food last night!"*
*******************************
*Apparently as Jack was patroling the food was getting the better of him. He tried to pass some gas as he was patrolling the farthest point of his area, instead passed a whole lot more!! Jack was caught by surprise and nearly lost control of the vehicle.
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
In the police department there are low crime shifts where there is one officer patrols, and during the high crime periods there may be two officers to a car patrol. Otherwise your partner will be in one patrol car and you in another. The idea being that two patrol vehicles can patrol more area, with occasional backup for certain potentially violent calls, like domestics.
I was the second man out and was the "back up car" I was sitting on rt 5 in Evan, NY, our main road just monitoring traffic when my partner Jack flew by, lights and sirens, he was flying!
I drove out behind him and hit my lights and floored the Patrol vehicle. I couldn't believe that I missed a hot call. I tried to radio Jack on our side band for private communication, to see what he was responding too,
"11 west to 12 west, what's your call?" I radioed on the side band, not wanting dispatch to know I had no clue what Jack was doing.
I still had a little trouble hearing calls, especially when you shared calls with the Sheriff's Department, Village of Angola police, Evans Police and Hamburg. But I wasn't going to let on that I was in the dark.
I figured if my partner was running wide open, I should too. As we flew over railroad crossings, leaving a path of sparks from the bottoms of our vehicles hitting the ground so hard after being airborne for a few seconds!
I saw him kill the lights as we entered Jack's neighborhood, so I did the same. Now I was beginning to wondered if there was trouble at his house and worried about his wife and son Jeff! When my partner turned off his headlights as we turned onto his road…I did the same.
When he pulled into his drive and I saw him exit the car running, I took off after him drawing my pistol and ran towards the house that he had ran into. The door was open so I raced into the house and surprisingly passed Jack's wife who was just standing there holding the door?
"What the Hell's going on?, I asked, and walked in.
"Jim, relax, Jack had too much Mexican food last night!"*
*******************************
*Apparently as Jack was patroling the food was getting the better of him. He tried to pass some gas as he was patrolling the farthest point of his area, instead passed a whole lot more!! Jack was caught by surprise and nearly lost control of the vehicle.
Henry's Wife, No Big Help
Henry's Wife No Big help
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
One warm summer starlight night, we clocked a speeder in a red corvette convertable shoot by our position. The alarm on the radar unit exploded with the rapids beep-beep sound, not giving me much warning to grab my cup of coffee before Jack accelerated, and spilled my coffee on my pants!
"Shit Jack!" I shouted as I looked at his grinning face, "Just once, just once, give me a warning!"
As we pursued the corvette, the convertable top was down, so it was easy to observe the driver and passenger. Jack asked,
"You recognize the driver?"
"It looks like Henry, the Attica correction officer. Isn't he married to the Japanese lady name Suzy?"
"Yep, that's the one." Jack said, "looks like he bought a new car."
"Well he needs something to make him happy." I laughed, "Marrying Suzy didn't work out so well for him!"
We had known Henry and his wife Suzy from law enforcement picnics and other social get togethers. Henry was a man in his 30's, 5'9", 220 lbs., blonde hair. Henry had met his wife in Okinowa, fell in love, and got married. Suzy, was an attractive petite asian lady, but didn't speak a lick of English till she got to America. That was good for Henry because he had a wife that served his every needs and at anytime he wanted. But once Suzy got to America she slowly learned English, however that was bad for Henry. In Japan the wife waits on her husband hand and foot, but after Suzy started to learned English, her new America lady friends told her this was America, and she had rights!
That she no longer had to rub his feet as soon as he got home, that wasn't done in America. This was America, you no longer had to bath your husband, make him do it himself! This was America, and your husband no longer had congigal rights when ever he desired. So Henry's well trained Japanese wife, Suzy, was now canceling 'the waiting on her husband hand and foot' program. Suzy became Americanized, and Henry was permanently grumpy. After all this was America!
Still pursuing Henry; When you are at a dead stop, parked and a vehicle passes your position at well over a 100 MPH, it takes your vehicle a few miles to catch up to the speeding vehicle. If they are traveling at a 100 MPH, you have to exceed 120 MPH or more.
Pursuing speeders, with Jack driving at 'WARP' speed, dodging obstacles in the road, like other vehicles, can be a hairy dangerous ride!
When we finally stopped the Corvette, as we approached the vehicle, Jack took the driver's side and I as backup took the passenger side, we found a man that smelled of booze,
"What's the problem officer?" asked Henry sarcastically.
"You were speeding at 100 miles per hour in a 55 zone." said Jack
"No sir, I was going 65", said Henry.
"Oh Henry," interrupted his wife Suzy, "You were going 100 miles an hour!"
Henry snaps his head in his wife's direction, giving his wife a dirty look!
"Well Henry, you're getting the speeding ticket," Jack added, "and I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken tail light."
"Broken tail light? I don't have a broken tail light!" said Henry
" Oh Henry, you've known about that tail light for weeks." said Suzy. Henry gives his wife another dirty look!
" Further more," Jack says, " I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt."
"No, that's not right! Henry protested. "I just took it off when you were walking up to the car."
" Oh Henry, you never wear your seat belt. You told me it bothers your digestion!"
"Shut your mouth, woman!" shouts Henry.
"Suzy, does Henry always talk to you this way?" I asked, laughing at Henry's discomfort.
"No, only when he's drunk."
*******************
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
One warm summer starlight night, we clocked a speeder in a red corvette convertable shoot by our position. The alarm on the radar unit exploded with the rapids beep-beep sound, not giving me much warning to grab my cup of coffee before Jack accelerated, and spilled my coffee on my pants!
"Shit Jack!" I shouted as I looked at his grinning face, "Just once, just once, give me a warning!"
As we pursued the corvette, the convertable top was down, so it was easy to observe the driver and passenger. Jack asked,
"You recognize the driver?"
"It looks like Henry, the Attica correction officer. Isn't he married to the Japanese lady name Suzy?"
"Yep, that's the one." Jack said, "looks like he bought a new car."
"Well he needs something to make him happy." I laughed, "Marrying Suzy didn't work out so well for him!"
We had known Henry and his wife Suzy from law enforcement picnics and other social get togethers. Henry was a man in his 30's, 5'9", 220 lbs., blonde hair. Henry had met his wife in Okinowa, fell in love, and got married. Suzy, was an attractive petite asian lady, but didn't speak a lick of English till she got to America. That was good for Henry because he had a wife that served his every needs and at anytime he wanted. But once Suzy got to America she slowly learned English, however that was bad for Henry. In Japan the wife waits on her husband hand and foot, but after Suzy started to learned English, her new America lady friends told her this was America, and she had rights!
That she no longer had to rub his feet as soon as he got home, that wasn't done in America. This was America, you no longer had to bath your husband, make him do it himself! This was America, and your husband no longer had congigal rights when ever he desired. So Henry's well trained Japanese wife, Suzy, was now canceling 'the waiting on her husband hand and foot' program. Suzy became Americanized, and Henry was permanently grumpy. After all this was America!
Still pursuing Henry; When you are at a dead stop, parked and a vehicle passes your position at well over a 100 MPH, it takes your vehicle a few miles to catch up to the speeding vehicle. If they are traveling at a 100 MPH, you have to exceed 120 MPH or more.
Pursuing speeders, with Jack driving at 'WARP' speed, dodging obstacles in the road, like other vehicles, can be a hairy dangerous ride!
When we finally stopped the Corvette, as we approached the vehicle, Jack took the driver's side and I as backup took the passenger side, we found a man that smelled of booze,
"What's the problem officer?" asked Henry sarcastically.
"You were speeding at 100 miles per hour in a 55 zone." said Jack
"No sir, I was going 65", said Henry.
"Oh Henry," interrupted his wife Suzy, "You were going 100 miles an hour!"
Henry snaps his head in his wife's direction, giving his wife a dirty look!
"Well Henry, you're getting the speeding ticket," Jack added, "and I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken tail light."
"Broken tail light? I don't have a broken tail light!" said Henry
" Oh Henry, you've known about that tail light for weeks." said Suzy. Henry gives his wife another dirty look!
" Further more," Jack says, " I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt."
"No, that's not right! Henry protested. "I just took it off when you were walking up to the car."
" Oh Henry, you never wear your seat belt. You told me it bothers your digestion!"
"Shut your mouth, woman!" shouts Henry.
"Suzy, does Henry always talk to you this way?" I asked, laughing at Henry's discomfort.
"No, only when he's drunk."
*******************
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Officer's Best Friend
Officer's Best Friend
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
One winter night we were going through the drive-in at the local burger place, when a speeder in a Mustang shot by us! Jack in his typical non-thinking reactive way, took off from 0-60 MPH out of the burger joint driveway to the highway! Jack jerked the police car steering wheel hard, barely avoiding a slide onto the graveled shoulder. The icy December air whistled in his ears, from Jack's open car window, but keeping both hands on the steering wheel, he couldn't do anything about it.
"You planning on getting us killed?" I asked as I fastened my seatbelt, wiping my soda drink off my shirt and pants!" It will be great Christmas gift for our kids and wives to plan a funeral."
"Jim, my own funeral is never my idea of a good Christmas," Jack muttered, resisting the urge to take one hand off the wheel to roll up the window. "It pisses me off, this joker blew the red light before I had a chance to grab my double-bacon-cheeseburger from the kid at the drive-up window."
"My heart bleeds for you!" I said sarcastically, still wiping off the spilled drink off my uniform, "I'm sending you the cleaning bill!"
The Mustang, (later found to been stolen) now in front of us, careened onto Route 20, narrowly missing a semi-truck in the right lane.
"Idiot!" Jack accelerated and tried to catch up, his foot pushing hard on the gas as the Mustang swung in front of an SUV. Then a hand flashed out the window of the stolen car.
"All right!" Jack speaking through gritted teeth, "flipping me off is gonna get you in more trouble than you've ever been in before. You're gonna regret,,,,,,,"
The rest of the sentence dangled in the air as movement in the rear-view mirror grabbed Jack's attention. A backup police unit screamed past and slid in front of the Mustang. Jack inched his cruiser forward until he was even with the stolen car, and the driver turned his head in slow motion to look at Jack. A spiteful grin spread over the perp's face as he wiggled his middle finger at Jack again. Then the perp leaned toward the passenger's door of his vehicle.
"Shit Jack, it looks like there is a passenger, maybe a kid!" I said.
Jack frowned and his voice rose.
"No! Don't tell me the perps got someone in that car with him!"
I grabbed the mic of the radio to call for an ambulance but before I could even click the mic, a small shape flew out the Mustang's passenger side, bounced on the shoulder and rolled down the gully.
Jack hit the brakes, controlling the skid.
"Don't let that be a kid!" Jack shouted, "Please lord, let it be a backpack or the guy's stash! Something we can hang him with! But please don't let it be a kid!"
As our cruiser slowed, I finished the call for medical assistance and with gravel flailing beneath the tires, Jack pulled the car onto the shoulder and slammed it into park. Flinging the seat belt off, I threw open the door and we bailed out at a dead run. Pebbles crunched and rolled as we half-ran, half-fell down the embankment, our flashlights casting eerie circles in the dry, prickly weeds.
("Don't let it be a kid! Don't let it be a kid!") My mind sang the refrain as my eyes searched.
"Hello," Jack called out loudly, "Where are you? Are you hurt?"
The only sound came from the traffic above and the winter wind's eerie voice, echoing through the gully.
Then, softly, a whimper. Not a human cry but more like ...
"A dog," Jack said, temper flaring. "Damn it! He threw a dog out of the car, that son of a bitch!"
Before Jack had a chance to finish expressing his thoughts about a man who would commit such an atrocity, his flashlight caught a flicker of sable and white. A dog resembling a miniature Lassie looked up from twenty feet away, blood dripping down her face.
"A Sheltie," I whispered. "Hold still girl, we're coming."
We slowly worked our way to the dog. She tried to rise, got onto three legs and toppled over.
My heart felt bad, not only for this dog, but for Jack's own Sheltie, Archie, a dog he'd owned all his adult life and that his toddler son Jeff, they had loved dearly, but had been put down just two days ago because age and a stroke.
The Sheltie whimpered again-this time the tone turning into a soft howl at the end.
Jack knelt by the dog, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, slowly reached over and dabbed the blood on the small dog's head. She flinched at his touch, blinked, then gazed steadfastly at Jack, her tootsie-roll-brown eyes reflected pain, but she didn't try to bite.
Above us red lights blinked in a circle as the ambulance pulled up. Two EMTs ran down the embankment, emergency equipment in hand, but they stopped short when they saw the dog.
"The perp threw his dog out the car!" Jack said. "Can you help her?"
I could tell Jack was wrestling with his emotions, trying hard to keep the pleading out of his voice.
Moving closer, the tall, blond medic looked at his shorter companion.
"We're not vets so our knowledge is limited. And we'd risk a lawsuit from the owner of the dog if we provide help and the dog dies."
Jack knew all about frivolous lawsuits and he gave a snort of disgust,
"The guy who did this couldn't care if she dies!" As he spoke, the Sheltie's eyes closed.
"She's in shock," the blond EMT said, watching the dog's chest rise and fall rapidly. Then he stepped toward her, and nodded at Jack
"You didn't see anything; I never touched this dog."
The EMT knelt next to her, gently running his hands over her body as the other medic picked up Jack's flashlight from the ground and held it high. A small, yellow puddle of light fell on the Sheltie. Jack cradled her head in his lap, controlling the bleeding above the eye, whispering courage. Her tan, button ears flicked at his soothing words.
When the EMT got to the dog's right front leg, he worked more cautiously.
"It doesn't feel like anything's broken, but she's probably got massive bruising and possible internal injuries. The pad of her foot's torn and bleeding-it looks like the toenails ripped off when she hit the ground."
The Sheltie winced as he worked his fingers around her white stocking foot, her breathing becoming more rapid.
"If we don't get an IV going and warm her, the shock's going to kill her," he pronounced, laying her foot gently on her other leg. Opening his kit, he pulled out sterile gauze, antiseptic, and antibiotic cream. He cleaned the paw, quickly wrapped it and watched as the other EMT brought down a backboard.
They carried her to the ambulance and loaded her in. Jack handed the EMT his card and said,
"Call me and give me the vet's name."
The rest of the midnight shift crept by as Jack quietly worried about the dog. The call never came. And there was other bad news; the suspect had evaded arrest.
The next morning-after Jack had been asleep just long enough to dream he was chasing the Mustang again, the phone rang. He fumbled with it, his fogged mind trying to remember how to answer. Finally, on the third try, he hit the talk button.
"Hello?" he said.
Jack blinking at the clock on the dresser and wondering about the time. The digital numbers showed 9:34-but was it morning or night?
"This is Dr. Kathy Hess's office. Your dog is ready for release." Said an icy voice filled with no-nonsense authority. Jack knew of this woman, she stood 6'4", 250 lbs., red hair worn short like a man, and known to be mean as a snake! She once punched the lights out an owner of a dog, when the owner smack his dog in front of her!
Jack couldn't believe his ears; Archie was alive? He could come home? Joy surged through Jack and his mind snapped awake-then logic took over and he knew he'd misunderstood. His breath caught as pain seared his heart, feeling as if a splintered arrow had shot through it. Archie was dead. He wasn't coming home alive, because he was buried in the back yard.
"I'm sorry; I've misunderstood," Jack said into the phone. "What did you say?"
Impatience filled this Doctor's voice. "Your dog is ready for release."
Jack grabbed the pillow and slapped it over his eyes, damming the tears.
"I don't have a dog at your hospital." he said in a strangled voice.
Dr. Hess cleared her throat impatiently.
"Are you Officer Jack Noel?"
"Yes."
"The EMTs gave us your number and said to call you about the dog."
Jack flung the pillow and leaped out of bed.
"Oh, that dog! Was she badly injured?
Dr. Hess paused, Jack envisioned her suspicions as she said,
"The dog's badly bruised, some abrasions, has a small wound over one eye and an sprained paw," Dr. Hess said, "I was told you're an Animal Control Officer? If not, I can't release her to you."
Cop attitude flooded his veins and Jack jabbed a finger in the air, as if poking Dr. Hess in the shoulder.
"That dog is a victim of a crime. I was the officer on the scene and have jurisdiction in this matter. The law requires that the dog be taken into my custody."
("My custody" ) was indeed stretching the truth, but surely the dog would heal faster at his home than at the hospital. Be-sides, it's not the first time Jack stretched the truth.
"I'll be down to pick her up in fifteen minutes." Jack stuffed one leg into his jeans while he hung up the phone.
When Jack got to the Eden-Evens Hospital he could hear the chaos of barks and meows at the vet's office, which usually bothered him. Normally Jack felt bad for the confused pets locked in cages, but this time he hardly noticed. When they brought the Sheltie out and she saw him, her ears perked up and her tail wagged, remembering her savior.
Jack could harden his heart against crooks and murders, con artists and thieves, but he could never manage it with kids and animals.
(Don't even think about falling in love with this dog!",) he thought to himself. But it was too late, he was smitten anyway. As he scooped the Sheltie up, her tan, pointed muzzle pressed against his neck and a soft pink tongue slipped him a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Hi girl," he said, giving her a gentle hug.
Movement caught his eye and Jack looked over to see a huge woman sitting at a sterile looking desk and flipping a pen between her man size fingers.
"That's got to be Dr. Hess," he whispered into the Sheltie's ear. Aloud he said to the woman,
"Send the bill to the Evan's Police Department, attention Chief Archie Jackman!"
He turned toward the door, but then, at the last minute turned back.
"By any chance, did this dog have a collar?"
Dr. Hess focused her eyes on Jack like a vulture spotting road kill, sighed heavily, then pulled a multi-colored band off a nearby shelf and disdainfully handed it to him. Jack looked at it and a thought flashed through his mind. Leaving the hospital Jack walked into the reception area.
Dangling the collar in front of the receptionist, and ignoring her stare of irritation, as it deepened to deeper proportions, Jack said,
"The rabies tag shows this dog was given its shots here. Please check it against your records and write down the owner's name and address for me."
These people at the hospital were so up tight! With lips pulled taut and body moving in wind-down mode, she took the collar and entered the numbers from the tag into the computer, then wrote the information on scrap paper and handed it to Jack. He looked at it, kissed the Sheltie on the head and said,
"We've nailed the sucker!"
Stepping out the door, Jack whispered sweet nothings to the dog. Snow fluttered around them and the bell of a Salvation Army Santa jingled in the distance.
"It's Christmas," Jack said. "I'll be capturing a car thief and filing several charges, including cruelty to animals. You're never going back to that guy who threw you out of the car."
Later at Jack's home, the scent of pine burning in a fireplace drifted past them, the Sheltie sniffed the air with interest. Jack stroked her soft ears and continued,
"Maybe I'm a little blue because I don't have Archie anymore-" he stopped, took a deep breath to compose himself and looked at the dog's beautiful pointed muzzle. "But, now I have you."
The Sheltie gazed at him with her brown eyes, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed.
**********************************************
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
One winter night we were going through the drive-in at the local burger place, when a speeder in a Mustang shot by us! Jack in his typical non-thinking reactive way, took off from 0-60 MPH out of the burger joint driveway to the highway! Jack jerked the police car steering wheel hard, barely avoiding a slide onto the graveled shoulder. The icy December air whistled in his ears, from Jack's open car window, but keeping both hands on the steering wheel, he couldn't do anything about it.
"You planning on getting us killed?" I asked as I fastened my seatbelt, wiping my soda drink off my shirt and pants!" It will be great Christmas gift for our kids and wives to plan a funeral."
"Jim, my own funeral is never my idea of a good Christmas," Jack muttered, resisting the urge to take one hand off the wheel to roll up the window. "It pisses me off, this joker blew the red light before I had a chance to grab my double-bacon-cheeseburger from the kid at the drive-up window."
"My heart bleeds for you!" I said sarcastically, still wiping off the spilled drink off my uniform, "I'm sending you the cleaning bill!"
The Mustang, (later found to been stolen) now in front of us, careened onto Route 20, narrowly missing a semi-truck in the right lane.
"Idiot!" Jack accelerated and tried to catch up, his foot pushing hard on the gas as the Mustang swung in front of an SUV. Then a hand flashed out the window of the stolen car.
"All right!" Jack speaking through gritted teeth, "flipping me off is gonna get you in more trouble than you've ever been in before. You're gonna regret,,,,,,,"
The rest of the sentence dangled in the air as movement in the rear-view mirror grabbed Jack's attention. A backup police unit screamed past and slid in front of the Mustang. Jack inched his cruiser forward until he was even with the stolen car, and the driver turned his head in slow motion to look at Jack. A spiteful grin spread over the perp's face as he wiggled his middle finger at Jack again. Then the perp leaned toward the passenger's door of his vehicle.
"Shit Jack, it looks like there is a passenger, maybe a kid!" I said.
Jack frowned and his voice rose.
"No! Don't tell me the perps got someone in that car with him!"
I grabbed the mic of the radio to call for an ambulance but before I could even click the mic, a small shape flew out the Mustang's passenger side, bounced on the shoulder and rolled down the gully.
Jack hit the brakes, controlling the skid.
"Don't let that be a kid!" Jack shouted, "Please lord, let it be a backpack or the guy's stash! Something we can hang him with! But please don't let it be a kid!"
As our cruiser slowed, I finished the call for medical assistance and with gravel flailing beneath the tires, Jack pulled the car onto the shoulder and slammed it into park. Flinging the seat belt off, I threw open the door and we bailed out at a dead run. Pebbles crunched and rolled as we half-ran, half-fell down the embankment, our flashlights casting eerie circles in the dry, prickly weeds.
("Don't let it be a kid! Don't let it be a kid!") My mind sang the refrain as my eyes searched.
"Hello," Jack called out loudly, "Where are you? Are you hurt?"
The only sound came from the traffic above and the winter wind's eerie voice, echoing through the gully.
Then, softly, a whimper. Not a human cry but more like ...
"A dog," Jack said, temper flaring. "Damn it! He threw a dog out of the car, that son of a bitch!"
Before Jack had a chance to finish expressing his thoughts about a man who would commit such an atrocity, his flashlight caught a flicker of sable and white. A dog resembling a miniature Lassie looked up from twenty feet away, blood dripping down her face.
"A Sheltie," I whispered. "Hold still girl, we're coming."
We slowly worked our way to the dog. She tried to rise, got onto three legs and toppled over.
My heart felt bad, not only for this dog, but for Jack's own Sheltie, Archie, a dog he'd owned all his adult life and that his toddler son Jeff, they had loved dearly, but had been put down just two days ago because age and a stroke.
The Sheltie whimpered again-this time the tone turning into a soft howl at the end.
Jack knelt by the dog, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, slowly reached over and dabbed the blood on the small dog's head. She flinched at his touch, blinked, then gazed steadfastly at Jack, her tootsie-roll-brown eyes reflected pain, but she didn't try to bite.
Above us red lights blinked in a circle as the ambulance pulled up. Two EMTs ran down the embankment, emergency equipment in hand, but they stopped short when they saw the dog.
"The perp threw his dog out the car!" Jack said. "Can you help her?"
I could tell Jack was wrestling with his emotions, trying hard to keep the pleading out of his voice.
Moving closer, the tall, blond medic looked at his shorter companion.
"We're not vets so our knowledge is limited. And we'd risk a lawsuit from the owner of the dog if we provide help and the dog dies."
Jack knew all about frivolous lawsuits and he gave a snort of disgust,
"The guy who did this couldn't care if she dies!" As he spoke, the Sheltie's eyes closed.
"She's in shock," the blond EMT said, watching the dog's chest rise and fall rapidly. Then he stepped toward her, and nodded at Jack
"You didn't see anything; I never touched this dog."
The EMT knelt next to her, gently running his hands over her body as the other medic picked up Jack's flashlight from the ground and held it high. A small, yellow puddle of light fell on the Sheltie. Jack cradled her head in his lap, controlling the bleeding above the eye, whispering courage. Her tan, button ears flicked at his soothing words.
When the EMT got to the dog's right front leg, he worked more cautiously.
"It doesn't feel like anything's broken, but she's probably got massive bruising and possible internal injuries. The pad of her foot's torn and bleeding-it looks like the toenails ripped off when she hit the ground."
The Sheltie winced as he worked his fingers around her white stocking foot, her breathing becoming more rapid.
"If we don't get an IV going and warm her, the shock's going to kill her," he pronounced, laying her foot gently on her other leg. Opening his kit, he pulled out sterile gauze, antiseptic, and antibiotic cream. He cleaned the paw, quickly wrapped it and watched as the other EMT brought down a backboard.
They carried her to the ambulance and loaded her in. Jack handed the EMT his card and said,
"Call me and give me the vet's name."
The rest of the midnight shift crept by as Jack quietly worried about the dog. The call never came. And there was other bad news; the suspect had evaded arrest.
The next morning-after Jack had been asleep just long enough to dream he was chasing the Mustang again, the phone rang. He fumbled with it, his fogged mind trying to remember how to answer. Finally, on the third try, he hit the talk button.
"Hello?" he said.
Jack blinking at the clock on the dresser and wondering about the time. The digital numbers showed 9:34-but was it morning or night?
"This is Dr. Kathy Hess's office. Your dog is ready for release." Said an icy voice filled with no-nonsense authority. Jack knew of this woman, she stood 6'4", 250 lbs., red hair worn short like a man, and known to be mean as a snake! She once punched the lights out an owner of a dog, when the owner smack his dog in front of her!
Jack couldn't believe his ears; Archie was alive? He could come home? Joy surged through Jack and his mind snapped awake-then logic took over and he knew he'd misunderstood. His breath caught as pain seared his heart, feeling as if a splintered arrow had shot through it. Archie was dead. He wasn't coming home alive, because he was buried in the back yard.
"I'm sorry; I've misunderstood," Jack said into the phone. "What did you say?"
Impatience filled this Doctor's voice. "Your dog is ready for release."
Jack grabbed the pillow and slapped it over his eyes, damming the tears.
"I don't have a dog at your hospital." he said in a strangled voice.
Dr. Hess cleared her throat impatiently.
"Are you Officer Jack Noel?"
"Yes."
"The EMTs gave us your number and said to call you about the dog."
Jack flung the pillow and leaped out of bed.
"Oh, that dog! Was she badly injured?
Dr. Hess paused, Jack envisioned her suspicions as she said,
"The dog's badly bruised, some abrasions, has a small wound over one eye and an sprained paw," Dr. Hess said, "I was told you're an Animal Control Officer? If not, I can't release her to you."
Cop attitude flooded his veins and Jack jabbed a finger in the air, as if poking Dr. Hess in the shoulder.
"That dog is a victim of a crime. I was the officer on the scene and have jurisdiction in this matter. The law requires that the dog be taken into my custody."
("My custody" ) was indeed stretching the truth, but surely the dog would heal faster at his home than at the hospital. Be-sides, it's not the first time Jack stretched the truth.
"I'll be down to pick her up in fifteen minutes." Jack stuffed one leg into his jeans while he hung up the phone.
When Jack got to the Eden-Evens Hospital he could hear the chaos of barks and meows at the vet's office, which usually bothered him. Normally Jack felt bad for the confused pets locked in cages, but this time he hardly noticed. When they brought the Sheltie out and she saw him, her ears perked up and her tail wagged, remembering her savior.
Jack could harden his heart against crooks and murders, con artists and thieves, but he could never manage it with kids and animals.
(Don't even think about falling in love with this dog!",) he thought to himself. But it was too late, he was smitten anyway. As he scooped the Sheltie up, her tan, pointed muzzle pressed against his neck and a soft pink tongue slipped him a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Hi girl," he said, giving her a gentle hug.
Movement caught his eye and Jack looked over to see a huge woman sitting at a sterile looking desk and flipping a pen between her man size fingers.
"That's got to be Dr. Hess," he whispered into the Sheltie's ear. Aloud he said to the woman,
"Send the bill to the Evan's Police Department, attention Chief Archie Jackman!"
He turned toward the door, but then, at the last minute turned back.
"By any chance, did this dog have a collar?"
Dr. Hess focused her eyes on Jack like a vulture spotting road kill, sighed heavily, then pulled a multi-colored band off a nearby shelf and disdainfully handed it to him. Jack looked at it and a thought flashed through his mind. Leaving the hospital Jack walked into the reception area.
Dangling the collar in front of the receptionist, and ignoring her stare of irritation, as it deepened to deeper proportions, Jack said,
"The rabies tag shows this dog was given its shots here. Please check it against your records and write down the owner's name and address for me."
These people at the hospital were so up tight! With lips pulled taut and body moving in wind-down mode, she took the collar and entered the numbers from the tag into the computer, then wrote the information on scrap paper and handed it to Jack. He looked at it, kissed the Sheltie on the head and said,
"We've nailed the sucker!"
Stepping out the door, Jack whispered sweet nothings to the dog. Snow fluttered around them and the bell of a Salvation Army Santa jingled in the distance.
"It's Christmas," Jack said. "I'll be capturing a car thief and filing several charges, including cruelty to animals. You're never going back to that guy who threw you out of the car."
Later at Jack's home, the scent of pine burning in a fireplace drifted past them, the Sheltie sniffed the air with interest. Jack stroked her soft ears and continued,
"Maybe I'm a little blue because I don't have Archie anymore-" he stopped, took a deep breath to compose himself and looked at the dog's beautiful pointed muzzle. "But, now I have you."
The Sheltie gazed at him with her brown eyes, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed.
**********************************************
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Bear Attack
Bear Attack
(Stories of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
Working the mid night shift in Evans, New York, is tedious at times, boring, but at other times, adrenaline pumping. It was warm, cloudy dark night
Jack was arguing with some motorist about the speeding ticket Jack just gave him. The motorist was pissed. I could hear the conversation since I stood at the ready on the passenger side of the car for back up.
"You damn cops just give out tickets for no reason! Are you pigs on a quota?" asked the motorist
"Yes sir, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife will get a toaster oven." Jack responded, " Now get moving, or I'll arrest you for being stupid!"
Afterward we continued our patrol, and in a short time we got a 'residential burglar alarm' call in this very upper income residential area along the old Lake Shore road. A road that has many multi million dollar mansions belonging to the rich and shameless.
I fastened my seatbelt since Jack was driving. Don't get me wrong, Jack is a great driver, but he has been known for wrecking five patrol cars and one town boat. I actually enjoyed sailing over railroad tracks at over 100 miles and hour, leaving a bed of sparks behind us.
"What's the matter, rookie,?" Jack asked ribbing me, "You being chicken again?"
"Cautious Jack. I survived two years in Viet Nam because I was cautious. You know if you hear a shot, you duck, that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I remember that burglary in progress call, and you got tangled up in the seatbelt trying to get out of the car!" Jack laughingly reminded me of an embarrassing incident.
"Yeah, yeah." I said irritated at Jack's memory. I knew I would not live this bear shooting down!
At the speeds we were traveling it wasn't long before we got there. On our arrival Jack being senior officer, ordered,
"Get the front!"
Jack took the rear of the house, his preference. Jack finding the rear door open, entered the house. Meanwhile I took the front, trying the front door I found it unlocked. The house is a multi level structure. The ground level is the living room, kitchen, dinning room, assorted bathrooms, and a den. The upper level are bedrooms and bath rooms. The bottom (basement) level are guestrooms, bathrooms, and a "playroom".
So as we are clearing this house, we have gone through the two upper levels and start on the bottom level. The house is dark and the only light source is our flashlights.
By the time we get to the bottom level my adrenline is pumping and I can hear my heart in my ears. I get to the bottom of the staircase and make my academy taught tactical turn into the "playroom". As I do, my light catches a huge hairy figure, with out streached arms and in each hand it looked like he had knives like 'Freddie Kruger' as if about to strike and rip me apart! I immediately fire two rounds from my service weapon striking the figure twice center mass.
Jack, hearing the shots flies into the room! Both our lights hit the figure, and now can clearly see that the figure is a stuffed Brown Bear standing about 12 feet tall, outstreached arms with what seemed like foot long claws!
"Nice shooting rookie! You just killed a stuffed bear!" Jack said laughing, as he turned on the lights.
"You don't have to tell anyone, you know!," I pleaded, but it was to no avail.
An hour later, the home owner returns and seeing several police cars, and our supervisor Lt. Jackman, who is chewing me out!
"You can't go in someone's house and shoot their bear! What's wrong with you?"
The owner runs into his house. and sees that his Bear has been shot, and breaks out laughing. I learned some time later that the home owner never repaired the stuffed animal, he placed two rings around the bullet holes and now it a conversation piece.
************************
(Stories of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo
Working the mid night shift in Evans, New York, is tedious at times, boring, but at other times, adrenaline pumping. It was warm, cloudy dark night
Jack was arguing with some motorist about the speeding ticket Jack just gave him. The motorist was pissed. I could hear the conversation since I stood at the ready on the passenger side of the car for back up.
"You damn cops just give out tickets for no reason! Are you pigs on a quota?" asked the motorist
"Yes sir, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife will get a toaster oven." Jack responded, " Now get moving, or I'll arrest you for being stupid!"
Afterward we continued our patrol, and in a short time we got a 'residential burglar alarm' call in this very upper income residential area along the old Lake Shore road. A road that has many multi million dollar mansions belonging to the rich and shameless.
I fastened my seatbelt since Jack was driving. Don't get me wrong, Jack is a great driver, but he has been known for wrecking five patrol cars and one town boat. I actually enjoyed sailing over railroad tracks at over 100 miles and hour, leaving a bed of sparks behind us.
"What's the matter, rookie,?" Jack asked ribbing me, "You being chicken again?"
"Cautious Jack. I survived two years in Viet Nam because I was cautious. You know if you hear a shot, you duck, that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I remember that burglary in progress call, and you got tangled up in the seatbelt trying to get out of the car!" Jack laughingly reminded me of an embarrassing incident.
"Yeah, yeah." I said irritated at Jack's memory. I knew I would not live this bear shooting down!
At the speeds we were traveling it wasn't long before we got there. On our arrival Jack being senior officer, ordered,
"Get the front!"
Jack took the rear of the house, his preference. Jack finding the rear door open, entered the house. Meanwhile I took the front, trying the front door I found it unlocked. The house is a multi level structure. The ground level is the living room, kitchen, dinning room, assorted bathrooms, and a den. The upper level are bedrooms and bath rooms. The bottom (basement) level are guestrooms, bathrooms, and a "playroom".
So as we are clearing this house, we have gone through the two upper levels and start on the bottom level. The house is dark and the only light source is our flashlights.
By the time we get to the bottom level my adrenline is pumping and I can hear my heart in my ears. I get to the bottom of the staircase and make my academy taught tactical turn into the "playroom". As I do, my light catches a huge hairy figure, with out streached arms and in each hand it looked like he had knives like 'Freddie Kruger' as if about to strike and rip me apart! I immediately fire two rounds from my service weapon striking the figure twice center mass.
Jack, hearing the shots flies into the room! Both our lights hit the figure, and now can clearly see that the figure is a stuffed Brown Bear standing about 12 feet tall, outstreached arms with what seemed like foot long claws!
"Nice shooting rookie! You just killed a stuffed bear!" Jack said laughing, as he turned on the lights.
"You don't have to tell anyone, you know!," I pleaded, but it was to no avail.
An hour later, the home owner returns and seeing several police cars, and our supervisor Lt. Jackman, who is chewing me out!
"You can't go in someone's house and shoot their bear! What's wrong with you?"
The owner runs into his house. and sees that his Bear has been shot, and breaks out laughing. I learned some time later that the home owner never repaired the stuffed animal, he placed two rings around the bullet holes and now it a conversation piece.
************************
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