Page 266 - NIXBOOK

Me, on duty, with my police dog next to me. Out in public. A citizen walks up to me and starts talking about the fact that they
own a dog. And their dog is so smart. Like, soooooo smart. Their dog could totally be a police dog, it’s so smart. Their dog can
sniff just anything, and so their dog would be the greatest drug dog just ever, their dog was so good, with the best nose just ever.
I smile and nod. How many times did I have to listen to variations of that – people bragging about how their dogs would make
great police dogs? Uh, about once month, sometimes more.

A homeowner called 911 for some help; she had a professional house appraiser on site to figure out the value of the place. The
appraiser needed to get photographs of every room. In a back bedroom though, a rentor had barricaded herself in there and was
refusing to let the apprasier in. I told the owner that I could not force anybody to do anything; the renter could legally keep her
door closed if she wanted. The appraiser told the owner she would not be able to value the home unless/until the renter let her
look in there, and so she would have to come back some other time when the renter was not literally yelling and screaming at
all three of us from behind her door. After some negotiating though we wore the renter down and she relented, and let the
appraiser go in for about ten seconds to snap from photos. Yeah, the renter was a complete mental crack whore.

In honor of breast cancer awareness month, the chief of police got special shoulder patches made in pink. I took it one step
further and added a matching pink undershirt, visible under my collar. I only lasted three days though; I ditched it and went
back to my black t-shirt because exactly zero citizens commented on my new pink color scheme. I was almost certain they
missed seeing the shoulder patches and only noticed my pink t-shirt, which I’m sure they thought was due to a laundry accident.