Page 319 - NIXBOOK

I worked in the same town long enough to meet a LOT of local resident dogs over the years. Some of them that I still remember:
Romeo, Magnus, Enzo, Duncan, Bilbo, Spuds, Cole, Odin, Radar, Tiny, Mojo, Aiko, Marley, Kitty Kat, Duke, Max, and Kevin.
Hm…looks like I forgot several dozen other dog names by now though.

Large delivery truck lost its brakes, going downhill. The driver, knowing there was a busy intersection at the bottom of the hill,
quickly and wisely decided to aim for a spot to the side of the road and take his chances there. He flew through a parking lot,
took out a carport, and crashed into a tree right before a good 30-foot drop off would have really ruined his day. Injuries to
himself: none. Injuries to others: also none. Slow clap for that guy.

Crazy man in a motorhome, doing his usual freaking out screaming and yelling and flailing of arms. He needed to be
involuntarily committed for a mental evaluation. Myself and several other officers spent about 40 minutes talking to him, trying
to calm him down. The reason we spent that much time was because we were all sporting our new bodycameras and we were
well aware that we could no longer use the tried and true, quick and efficient method of resolving the problem by utilizing old-
school hands-on use of force. No. We had to be kinder, and gentler. Sigh..40 minutes is kind of long time to negotiate with a
crazy guy; especially one within easy grabbing range.

I have met all kinds of people, some old, and some young, who wanted to report strangers and lurkers.. living..in their walls. Or
living under their floor. Or in the ceiling. Some of those folks were clearly crazy; some could completely pass themselves off as
normal and function pretty normally in society, they just had a strong belief that somebody was living “in their walls.” Pointing
out to them that their walls were only a few inches thick had zero effect on their thinking, because they had absolutely convinced
themselves. One of those clients was an old Russian woman who called about once a week at night because of the people in the
attic. Finally one of my coworkers met her at her door at night, and assured her that he had just finished scanning her attic from
the outside using his new scantronic 4832LPX91 Attic Scanner, and the results showed nobody up there. The old Russian looked
at him with squinty eyes and announced “You are so full of shit.” Which of course caused me to lose it.