CONTENT WARNING: Pet death (old age)

If you don’t like the police, I advise you to keep scrolling, because I need to brag on a local police force that went above and beyond to bless me in an awful situation. Then again, maybe you’re the one person who should read this.

It was one of the worst nights of my life. My precious senior doggo, after giving me sixteen and a half years of unconditional love, was declining rapidly before my eyes, and as much as I had dreaded this moment for the past few years, I knew it had come. The ugly crying started as soon as that realization hit me and didn’t stop the whole time it took me to get dressed (it was 1 AM), bundle her up, and take her on what would be her last car ride.

I drove extra-slow down the highway, sobbing hysterically, driving with my left hand and petting my doggo constantly with my right, on the way to the local emergency vet, who was waiting for us.

I barely noticed a patrol car on the median as I passed it, but I did notice it make a U-turn and pull in behind me. I honestly didn’t care when the blues and reds started flashing in my rearview mirror, just give me my ticket, I thought, and let me get on with this.

We pulled over, and the lady officer came around the passenger side as I started digging in the glove box for my credentials. She shone her flashlight in the window, saw my face, and instantly read the room correctly. As I lowered the window, she gently asked, “Ma’am, are you okay?”

Still sobbing heavily, I explained the situation as best I could. She explained that she noticed how slowly I was driving and was concerned for my safety. She understood completely that I was absolutely NOT in a hurry to get to my destination.

She told me to put my paperwork away and offered to follow me to the vet to make sure I arrived safely. When I pulled up to the emergency room door, I almost didn’t notice that the officer had parked in a regular parking spot until she came up to ask me if I needed help (I had parked in a handicapped spot). I clutched my dog tighter than I did my purse as the officer accompanied me to the door and held it open for me so we could enter less awkwardly. She explained the situation to the staff, and they thanked her for helping me, as did I (I was still trying to pull myself together). She refused to leave until she knew I was calm enough to drive home and would (eventually) be okay.

A few days later, I called the police station’s non-emergency number and left a message for that officer’s lieutenant. I wanted to let them know how amazingly compassionate that officer was, and how much her kindness was needed and appreciated at that moment.

Later that night, that sweet, wonderful officer called me back to make sure I was okay and to express her sympathies. I started crying again at her thoughtfulness.

The next day, her lieutenant called me as well. First, he thanked me for taking the time to express gratitude for their service (at a time when police are receiving much more grief than they deserve, it was the least I could do). He then graciously offered for me to come visit the station and spend time with their four K-9 officers, at any time that worked for them and me.

I know not all cops are perfect–but not all members of ANY group are. Unfortunately, working in journalism taught me that “If it bleeds, it leads”, and good news (and by extension, good people) are boring. I stand by the fact that most police officers are good, hard-working, decent, helpful people, and only the bad ones make the news. The actions of those police officers that night only solidified that stance in my mind, and I will always be grateful for their compassion and caring. I will continue to pray for their safety and that of all service people.

It’s a very busy gas station/convenience store, and we’re waiting for our turn for a pump. The person we’re waiting for finishes pumping… and then just leaves his car sitting there while he goes inside for food.

A few minutes later, he comes back out with his food and sits there at the pump to eat it. 

I get out of my car and walk up to him.

Me: “Hey, could you move your car? There are people waiting for the pump.”

He gives me a look.

Customer: “Back off. I’m eating.”

Me: “You can eat literally anywhere else. This isn’t a parking spot.”

He shifts, hand near his pocket.

Customer: “You don’t wanna mess with me. I’ve got something on me.”

That’s enough for me.

I step back, pull out my phone, and call the cops. He immediately takes off, speeding out of the lot.

When the police arrive, I hand over everything.

Me: “Here’s his car description, plate number, and the direction he took off.”

Because the guy had implied that he had a weapon (likely a gun) they had to deal with it immediately, and they drove off in the direction I pointed out.

I finally pump my gas, and am getting some food myself (they have a small hot bar with some seating) when I see the police car return, pull up, and the officers walk into the place. They start asking the manager about camera footage, when one of them sees me.

Officer: “Oh! You’re still here. That saves us a phone call.”

Me: “You were gonna call me?”

Officer: “Yeah. To identify the guy.”

Me: “You caught him?”

Officer: “Look in the back seat, buddy.”

I look back at the cop car, and sitting super low in the back seat, trying not to be seen, is the guy from earlier!

Me: “Well… that’s him!”

Apparently, they found him parked (illegally) one block over, finishing the meal that I had interrupted. Quickest arrest I’ve ever seen!

I was eating outside once at a restaurant that shared a building with a high-end Italian place, when I saw some guy try to run out on his bill, literally.

The front door flew open, and this guy is at full speed through the parking lot, and then a couple of seconds later, a waiter comes out at a full sprint chasing him.

Waiter: “Not this time, you f***er! This is the last f****** time!”

Dine-And-Dasher: “F*** you!”

This all happens right in front of a cop driving by in his police car. 

The waiter, who is super crazy fast, catches the guy after about a fifty-yard chase and hits him from behind with a flying tackle in the middle of the parking lot. Seriously, it was an NFL-worthy hit.

The cop watched it all happen from his car and then drove over and pulled up next to them, opened his door, and cuffed the guy without even having to get out of his car.

I’m leaving a parking lot and need to make a left turn on the road. I look left, see that the nearer lane is empty, but there’s a woman stepping into the crosswalk. I look to the right and see that traffic in the far lane is backed up all the way to a curve down the way a bit. Pondering if it might be quicker to just turn right and loop around some back roads, there’s suddenly a very soft thump in front of me. I look, and the lady from the crosswalk has just laid her top half down on my hood. I put the car in park, roll down my window, and lean my head out.

Me: “Are you okay?”

She suddenly pops her head up.

Lady: “YOU HIT ME!”

She couldn’t even bother pretending to put on an “I’m so hurt” voice or feign being in pain! The nerve! The laziness! She also didn’t sound like she was any sort of drunk, high, or otherwise impaired.

Me: “I absolutely did not. My foot’s been on the brake for about a minute now, waiting to get out of here.”

Lady: “GOOD LUCK PROVING THAT!”

I lift my finger and point at the dash-cam stuck to my windshield.

Me: “This records video AND sound. You want to try again?”

Her response was to press her face against my hood and rub back and forth to smear her makeup all over it before stomping off. Yes, that sure showed me!

I am working 911 dispatch on Thanksgiving.

Me: “911, what is your emergency?”

Caller: “How do I cook a turkey?”

Me: “Ma’am, this line is for emergencies.”

Caller: “It is an emergency! I have family coming over and I promised them a turkey dinner!”

Me: “This line is for emergencies that require the police, an ambulance, or the fire service. Please don’t call this number unless you need one of those services.”

Apparently, she called back multiple times, each time more desperate. When officers arrived at her house to explain what 911 was for, she finally got it.

She still called back on Monday to complain to my boss that I was rude and that dispatching officers to her home was completely uncalled for. He asked if she wanted to listen to any of the twelve recorded calls they had on her from that day. 

She hung up.