This story takes place shortly after I am hired for my first job as a police officer. The city that hired me has a mandatory leash law for dogs. Sadly, some of my fellow officers have recently ended up shooting a few nuisance dogs, which has been spun in an effort to show that our department hates dogs.

One day, while I’m walking around my patrol area — in full uniform and with a running body camera — a large puppy turns the corner ahead of me, sees me, and sprints over in a rush of puppy excitement. The pup seems friendly and well-trained — at least for a puppy — and it’s wearing a collar, so after getting it to sit, I give it a scratch and kneel down to read the tag on the collar.

Suddenly, a woman turns the same corner the pup came from and starts sprinting over, screaming.

Woman: “Get away from my dog! Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s okay. He’s a friendly guy. I’m just taking a look at his tag.”

Woman: “Just let him go! He hasn’t done anything!”

Me: “The only thing I’m seeing wrong is that he doesn’t have a leash.”

Woman: “I have it right here.”

She pulls a leash out of her sweatshirt pocket and clips it to the pup’s collar.

Me: “Did he escape from your yard or something?”

Woman: “No, we were taking a walk. He likes to move faster than I do, so I let him off his leash so he can wander more. He doesn’t usually go this far away from me.”

Me: “Well, ma’am… based on that, I’m going to have to give you a citation for not having a leash on him.”

Woman: “You can’t do that! I didn’t know about the leash law, and I had a leash right here! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Me: *While writing out the citation* “Unfortunately, you just admitted that you intentionally let your dog walk without a leash. That’s illegal in [City], so I have to write a citation.”

Woman: *With a smug look now* “Well, he has a leash now, so you can’t prove anything!”

Me: “Ma’am, all [City] police officers wear body cameras. You and your dog have been on camera this entire time. I need your information for the citation.”

She glared at me and refused to give me her information, so I knelt down and started reading her name, address, and telephone number off the pup’s tag, making sure to hold the tag in a position where my body camera would get a good recording of it. When the woman realized what I was doing, she scoffed, dragged the pup away from me, and refused to take the completed citation when I tried to hand it to her.

She tried to fight the citation in court, but my body camera footage of the entire incident was more than enough for the judge to rule that the citation was legitimate.

On a happy note: a few months after her court appearance, the woman was arrested for some unrelated crimes and sentenced to a prison term. Because she lived alone and had nobody to take care of her now-adult dog, he was taken to a local animal shelter. Shortly after, he was adopted by another local family who have taken excellent care of him and his leash. I still see the dog most days when I’m on patrol, and I have started carrying a few dog treats in my pockets for him and the other friendly dogs in the neighborhood.

This story is part of our Best Of January 2021 roundup!

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In the early 1980s when my parents are first married, they are staying in the town my dad grew up in. The town has less than 2,500 people. Everyone knows everyone else, and they’re all related in some way. One night, after having dinner with his parents, they return to the place they are staying to find someone has broken in and stolen most of their things, including my mother’s collapsible pool stick, which is her pride and joy.

They report it to the police, tell his parents, and try to find a way to calm down. Dad suggests they go to the local bar, get a couple of drinks, and maybe ask around about it. As they sit there and talk to some people, Mom hears a very familiar noise. It’s the distinctive “clunk” noise that her pool stick makes when it strikes the cue ball. She gets my dad’s attention and points out the pool table to him.

One of his cousins is playing pool, and the stick he’s using is the one making the “clunk” noise.

Mom: “[Dad], that’s my stick!”

Knowing better than to cause a scene in a bar, my dad went to the payphone… and called his aunt. He told her what had happened and that he thought her son was the one who’d broken into the house. His aunt came down immediately and dragged my dad’s cousin out by the collar of his shirt, screaming up one side and cussing down the other. 

Turns out, he HAD been the one to break into the house, figuring my mom, who was from out of state, would have really valuable stuff to sell. Luckily, he hadn’t had a chance to sell anything, and they got everything back.

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The discount store I manage is open very late at night. This sometimes invites transient activity and shoplifting, as fewer employees work at night than during the day. While we do have loss prevention or security around, this doesn’t deter some people.

Tonight it’s been rough. We’ve had four counts of shoplifting activity so far. Two of them have been grab-and-runs right out the door, while the other two were successfully recovered. My security and I are talking about the last one when we notice more customers acting suspicious and determine this will be the fifth time tonight.

Security: “If we have three grab-and-runs tonight, am I fired?”

I have struggled with drug addiction for most of my life. About five years ago, my wife filed for divorce and was awarded full custody of our son. This is all right and proper, as I was in no condition to be a father at that time.

The road to recovery has been long, but I have been working the program and have now been clean for several years. I have had no formal custody of my son, though I get visitation at my ex-wife’s discretion. I have tried to be a good and stable father to my son in the last few years.

However, my ex has not wanted to allow for the possibility that I have become well. In fact, she has begun jerking me around with visitation, even planning on removing my son from me for a period of several months so she can take a long vacation with her new family.

Not willing to let this slide, I immediately file for joint custody. The court case goes as expected, my ex badmouthing my former drug abuse and attempting to paint me as still an addict and a threat to our son. Again, I am totally not. I have been clean for years, I’m employed, and I own my own home now.

My ex is so self-deluded and confident that I backslid that she loudly demands, in front of the judge:

Ex: “I demand that he provide a letter from the local president of [drug counseling program] stating that he has attended every meeting for the last several years.”

I smile at the judge.

Me: “Not only is that not a problem, your honor, but I can provide that document today.”

Judge: “How this is possible? Did you already think to bring that with you?”

Me: “No, your honor, but, you see, I am the president of our local chapter.”

I wish you could see the look on my ex’s face. I got joint custody.

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I am stopped at a light where the road is sheer ice, and I get rear-ended. Since it’s impossible for me to brake, due to the ice, the effect is similar to a curling rock and I slide forward and hit the vehicle in front of me. Even though three vehicles are involved, it is a very minor incident.

We exchange insurance information and numbers and go about our way after a few minutes. There is no visible damage to the car that hit me, I have a few scratches on my car, and the guy I hit has a cracked back bumper.

A few days later, I text the guy who hit me to make sure I got the right number. After confirming, he says:

Driver: “Let it go to the police. If they decide I need to pay, then I will contact my insurance, no problem. Can we let the police decide? Let’s choose the time and then go to the police; whatever the police decide, I will be ready to do it.”

I just couldn’t believe it. I guess he’d never been in an accident before, but who thinks this is how it works?