A Cop's Best Friend

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The first time I met Henry was three summers ago when Danny stopped by my station house for a cup of coffee. Henry pranced up to me, lifted his leg-exposing some white fur on the inside of his right leg resembling, appropriately enough, a set of devil's horns-and peed on my foot. Then, he sat in front of me, his tongue hanging from his mouth and waited to be scratched behind his ears. I swear he was grinning. I, of course, complied.
Danny explained that Henry was about to fail out of K-9 school because he seemed to have trouble concentrating around the female students and occasionally stole property such as pens or portable radios that belonged to the instructors. Danny said he saw a bit of a spark in Henry and asked if he could work on him after classes with no other trainees around. He was given permission and, as a result of a keen intelligence, a strong willingness to please and Danny's loving hand, Henry graduated, but just barely.
Danny and Henry began patrol together in the fall of that year. They frequently stopped by for coffee and, as often as not, announced their arrival with a frustrated scolding from Danny for Henry having run off to tip his hat to some female who caught his eye or to grab a ball from a front yard. Danny spent a lot of his patrol time apologizing to terrorized dog owners.
On a cold February night a few years ago, Henry showed his stuff and earned the title "Hero."
Danny responded to a request for a K-9 unit made by officers attempting to locate and capture an armed man who had fled into a wooded area. Danny drove to a spot on the other side of the woods, away from the other cops and, with Henry, began to search. They had only walked 50-yards or so into the woods when Henry began to growl and broke his lead. Danny didn't have time to scold him back before Henry ran around a nearby tree and tore into the man who was pointing a .9mm pistol at Danny with the clear intent of shooting him. The man did, in fact, fire a shot into the air, owing to being startled by the snapping fangs of the angry Shepherd.
The sound of the shot and Danny's screams, brought reinforcements who, after Danny called Henry off, took the frightened gunman into custody. Henry had now earned a permanent place in Danny's heart, allowing him, from then on, to continue his clown and roué act with relative impunity.
It was spring of last year when Danny and Henry happened to be nearby and Danny heard cops on the radio calling for assistance in searching for a man who had just lumped up his wife during a family discussion that had turned sour, and was now running around in the back yards of his neighborhood. As soon as Danny opened the rear hatch of his truck, Henry took off running, leaping a low fence surrounding a nearby house. The cops lost sight of him, but began running in the same direction. A good half-hour had passed before they found him lying in a yard several blocks away. Next to his lifeless body was the bloody 2x4 that had been used to beat him to death.
There are few more heartbreaking sights than a cop with tears pouring down his cheeks. Danny lifted Henry lovingly and carried him back to the truck as the rest of the cops stood silently, their own eyes filling up. Henry was buried with police honors two days later. To date, no one has been arrested for killing him.
Some months later, I was in one of our arrest rooms, clearing up some paperwork. It was warm, so I opened the window to get some air. As I did, I saw a puppy of about 3-months of age sitting on the grass quietly peering at me. It appeared to be a mixed breed, some Shepherd and, perhaps, a bit of Rottie. I called the pup to the window and it pranced over readily. I lifted it into the office, pulling my face back from its eager tongue.
As there was no collar, my only option was to call the pound to come pick up the pup. The animal control officer on the other end of the phone asked what sex the dog was. I lifted it up to check and found it was a female. I saw something else, too: a bit of white fur in the shape of devil's horns. Then she peed on me.
I told the ACO never mind and hung up the phone. It seems old Henry wasn't about to let something as mundane as a police pursuit interfere with his sex life. Even in the heat of the chase, he managed to find romance with one of the numerous strays in the area before attending to the job at hand. I couldn't help but laugh, as I had been certain that all K-9 dogs were supposed to be neutered.
I called Danny and he responded in less than an hour to pick up the pooch. They took to each other immediately, and I've never seen Danny happier.
Danny will keep her with him in his home for about a year, then, if all goes well in K-9 school, he and Henrietta will be patrolling the streets of his county together shortly afterward.
Last year, God closed a door on Danny. Last week, He nudged me to open a window.
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