When Cops Lose Control (a Dog Story)

by Jeff Baker

I’ve been a cop for what feels like a long time, 24 years come June. If I’m honest, I have to admit policing can have certain effects -sometimes unsavory effects- on the human psyche.

For example, police offers can get hardened emotionally over time and come off as lacking empathy for others. They can be a little arms length with people they don’t know, even in everyday social settings. They often develop what people outside the circle might call an inappropriate sense of humor (“gallows humor” – a coping mechanism really).

For me, control is a biggie. Gotta maintain. Control your emotions. Control your environment. Control potential suspects around you. Control your tactics and control your decision making process as you deploy resources during fluid, dynamic situations.

So it’s not a stretch to imagine my lack of enthusiasm for situations which leave me with little or no control. Flying is a good one. I’m sure the pilot’s going to fall asleep. I’m sure the bolts holding the wings on weren’t torqued to spec. I’m sure the foreign exchange student seated a row over is an Islamic jihadist hell bent on bringing the plane down.

Anyone who knows me knows about Boomer, our beloved 3-year-old terrier we rescued from a high-kill shelter before last Christmas. He’s a Parson Russell Terrier, a near genetic twin to the Jack Russell, albeit a longer legged variant of the breed so as to be able to run faster/farther when bolting fox from their den. Indeed, despite their diminutive size, Parsons are serious hunting dogs with very high prey drive.

Boomer gets daily exercise in the form of a long walk and plenty of tube sock tug-of-war and squeaky ball fetch inside the house. In exchange for providing him outlets for his Chernobyl level metabolism and energy, he’s an exemplary pet in every respect. He is a dedicated lap dog in the evening, curling up and relaxing in front of the television. If we’re not watching Southland or the Dog Whisperer, he’ll quietly direct his attention to a Nylabone. The point is, he’s a great dog… good with kids, friendly with other dogs, wheelbarrows of personality, playful when appropriate/calm when appropriate, etc. I can’t say enough.

Boomer does have one chink in his behavioral armor, however: cars.

I frankly don’t know how Boom survived on the street, because the Council Bluffs shelter picked him up as a stray. He goes ape-shit when encountering a car during his walk. This manifests itself in a high pitched scream (I call it his “war cry”) followed by head down, straining shoulders, sled dog style pulling on his leash that shocked me the first time I experienced it. This dog pulls like no other 16 pound animal I’ve ever known.  As soon as the car is gone, however, Boomer’s able to relax some and resume marking his territory and scratching around for bunny scent under trees and in shrubs.

Yesterday’s walk was like any other.  I had Boomer in his slip-collar and we were meandering along when a silver Toyota Tacoma came by.  I normally give Boomer a quick correction with the leash when he fixates on a car (I think he perceives these automobiles as fast moving prey, so you’ve got to be a confident pack leader to get him redirected). Predictably, Boomer lets out his war cry and commences to impersonate an Iditarod contestant.

That’s when it happened. I gave a pop to Boomer’s collar and…

…his leash went slack.  His collar had broken, and in that sickening slow motion moment, Boomer stretched out and took to the chase as if he were shot from a cannon.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not a runner by nature. An asthmatic standing 6’3″ and weighing 240 pounds, I’ve always gotten more favorable results punching you in the head than chasing after you willy nilly. Having said that, I was an athlete in high school and college and I can run when necessary. And right about now it was positively necessary.

I was adrenalized. I took off in pursuit, straining to sprint as hard as I possibly could. If Boomer was able to hear me, his innate instinct to chase overwhelmed him. I screamed and waved my arms hoping the driver of the Tacoma would see or hear me and stop. It didn’t work, and Boomer was gaining on that truck as the driver led him further and further away from me.

I began to outrun myself and tripped. In the blink of an eye, I tumbled hard onto the pavement in the middle of the street, barely breaking my fall with the palm of my left hand and barrel rolling twice before painfully dragging myself back to my feet to see this little white dog I love so much disappear over the crest of a hill three blocks away from me.

All I felt was doom.

No control, only despair.

I could feel my heart breaking.

Hands on my knees. Lungs burning. I’m on the verge of vomiting. I turned my head to see a woman in an SUV pulling up next to me. She was hurriedly clearing her passenger seat of her iPhone and purse and whatnot. Without hesitation, she called for me to get in and we took off in Boomer’s last direction. Now at least, I had a breath of hope.

God must be a dog lover, because Debbie Dotson’s actions are likely the only reason I ever saw Boomer again. As we crested a hill near a local elementary school, we spotted Boomer and the silver truck. The driver had finally stopped and Boomer was nipping at the truck’s front right tire. Somehow, he had avoided being run over and killed.

I leaped from Debbie’s vehicle and tackled Boomer in a muddy patch adjacent to the curb.  (I would later learn Andy and Emily Passo’s kids -all of whom are crazy about Boomer- witnessed the entire ordeal from their house and were crying, then cheering, as the event unfolded.)

After loading my scrappy son in Debbie’s car and picking up her charming 6-year-old daughter from the same school Boomer had run to (serendipity anyone?), we headed for home. While enroute, Debbie deftly explained to her girl how you should never give a strange man a ride unless he’s an asthmatic off-duty police officer who looks like he’s fallen down a flight of stairs while chasing his dog as if his life depended on it. Because I was. Because it did.

Once home, Boomer got a bath, Denise fixed me a stiff drink, and I took inventory of the carnage: road rash on my right knee and right hip, wrenched low back, bruised right shoulder, and my left wrist feels sprained. I’m coughing a lot too from having taxed my lungs in the cool air. To be blunt though, none of this matters a whole lot and I’d willingly take that fall five times in a row if it meant Boomer was spared injury or death.

This morning, I’m eternally grateful to a fellow human being, a citizen willing to expose herself to an unknown risk in picking up some guy she didn’t know and lending a helping hand. We’re headed to Charleston’s to get Debbie a $50 gift certificate so she and her husband can enjoy a night out on us. Fifty bucks to demonstrate a little gratitude for saving the life of pet we’re over the moon in love with is the least we can do, don’t you think?

[sigh]

Now, where’s that bottle of Tylenol?



Comments

  1. Was so relieved to see the happy ending to this. For being so clever, those terriers can get rather single minded. Our freaky little terrier mix keeps life interesting with his adventures too. Think I’ll give my fella an extra hug when I get home today.

  2. This is an absolutely amazing story! Thank you so much for sharing. I have a parson russell, and they are the most amazing dogs in the world! So grateful that Boomer is okay, and your injuries are minimal!

  3. What a happy ending to the story! What we will do for our little best friends.

  4. I would have done the same!
    Brilliant writing style by the way. :)

  5. Laurie says on  March 8, 2012 at 6:38 pm

    I really enjoyed the story, in part because of your writing style, in part because I am an ex-officer and my husband is currently a Deputy, and in part because of the happy ending of course, but mostly… because I have two Fox Terriers and understand the respect you must have for their clever wit, agility, speed & tenacity. They can be like juvenline delinquents! LOL. By comparison, our Lab is just a goofy girl… and my English Mastiff is soooo laid back, cool & calm (so long as he doesn’t have to defend me against dangers). Thank you for sharing!

  6. 001mum says on  March 8, 2012 at 6:47 pm

    entertaining, inspirational, personal, sweet, good story line, thankful, delightful
    just want to know what kind of collar will Boomer have now?
    just so it doesn’t happen again

    and just being curious, did you cry after (from relief?)

  7. Anonymous says on  March 9, 2012 at 5:08 am

    Gotta love a happy ending…! <3

  8. Stories like this just prove that there are great people (and animal lovers) in this world! Glad you got Boomer back safe and sound. I have to say that both my two dogs wear harnesses now because we had a few hairy experiences when they were younger and just wearing collars… Also, kudos for adopting a stray.

  9. Linda says on  March 9, 2012 at 6:35 pm

    Well, all I can say is that I am the occasional Nanny for one Purcell Terrier and He is just about the cutest, lovingest, athletic little guy I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving.. His name is Roy and he is a joy.

  10. At the age of three it is not too late to de-sensitise Boomer to traffic. A little time, effort and common-sense if all that is required.
    It is called Environmental Training.

    Good luck from a colleague in Law enforcement

  11. Anonymous says on  March 10, 2012 at 6:39 pm

    Please use a harnesss when walking him from now on.

  12. Cara Mer says on  March 17, 2012 at 4:35 pm

    Fantastic story, Jeff. My first rescue dog went ape sh*t over loud vehicles and motorcycles.
    I had a similar incident with him and was ever so grateful he survived.
    Give Boomer a big huge and kiss.
    (Yes, despite being a police officer, I know you have it in you to do it!0

  13. Mom of a Rescued Golden says on  March 20, 2012 at 7:57 pm

    As a “mom” of a rescue dog with irrational fears and anxieties, Boomer was so lucky to have found his way into your home. Its hard to know what circumstances brought them to the shelter or rescue group, but when they find their way into a loving home where they can feel safe, secure and loved, nothing is more gratifying. No matter how much you give them, they will give it back to you back two fold. Amazing story, thank you for sharing it!!

  14. Brian says on  March 28, 2012 at 4:32 pm

    I know this feeling. I had to give pursuit once after my 100 pound shepherd after he chased a cat under a fence. Good thing the cat bareheaded herself under a shed cause I would probably still be looking for him. Great story happy it ended happily. Stay safe brother.

  15. Jeannine says on  June 5, 2012 at 1:43 pm

    As a wife of a cop this story hits close to home. I know how Law Enforcement Officers can become hardened.

    I brought home our wonder mutt on our first year of marriage, without even consulting my new husband. After all he was sleeping since he works nights, and I was killing a Sunday afternoon at an adoption event.

    Anyway, what I mean to say is our dog is out life. To see my husband come home from a night of murder sprees, etc. and just unwind with the dog is therapy.

  16. I was blessed to have a Jack in my life more than 20 yrs ago. He was smarter than me from the start. A.J. did NOT like collars & houdini-ed his way out of many different kinds. He even got out of a number of harnesses! This dog could undo buckles in no time. It wasn’t until I found a harness made of a spandex type material that fit him snugly, but comfortably, did he finally stay in it!
    God Bless you & your little live-wire!

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