The German Shepherd

      This is a story you wouldn’t think ended well, but it does. It’s the summer of 1982 and I’m working the evening shift for the Fort Worth Police department on the east side. I’ve been on shift for several hours and finally got to pull up next to a friend of mine working in the same district. His name is Rusty Davis and people say we look a lot alike. So, the way I describe him will be very flattering. He’s about six foot tall, medium build with the standard issue police mustache. He’s considered a good looking guy. The whole description of Rusty has nothing to do with the story, but I wanted to make sure everyone knows what a great looking guy he was since we look so much alike.

     We sat and talked for a few minutes and the dispatcher called Rusty. She said, “Adam two fifteen (designated A-215) copy call. There’s an armed robbery in progress at the Seven/Eleven at forty five zero three E. Lancaster. I’ll show you enroute at twenty seventeen hours (8:17PM). Handle code three.”

     Rusty picked up his microphone, “Ten four. I’m enroute code three and put Adam two sixteen with me.”

      The dispatcher acknowledged and we headed towards the call with lights and sirens on. We weren’t far off. As we arrived a car was pulling out of the parking lot. A man came out of the store pointing to the car. We both pursued. The car was traveling at a high rate of speed. He was heading east towards the city limits of Fort Worth and into Arlington on E. Lancaster Street. The speed limit on the road was forty miles per hour. We were hitting ninety miles per hour, and it was intense. There was still traffic at this time in the evening. There were some close calls on side streets as drivers weren’t prepared for ninety mile per hour traffic coming towards them. Any miscalculation would mean catastrophe.

      We approached the city limits quickly because of the speed. My foot was on the accelerator smashed against the floor. Before he left the city, the brake lights came on and the car’s front end went down as he decelerated. He turned down a side street in a residential area. He drove for two blocks and pulled into the front yard of a lower income house. We came up behind him, jumped out and were prepared to pursue him but he stopped on the porch.

     A large German Shepard started barking at us. He was restrained by a chain. The dog seemed frenzied. He was barking and straining the chain. The guy ran to the dog and grabbed his leash. He started yelling, “Get back or I’ll turn him loose! Come on chicken shits!”

     Rusty and I took cover behind two trees and drew our weapons. The guy keeps yelling and the dog is straining to break the chain and come at us. I asked Rusty, “What do you think?”

     He answered, “If we rush him, we’ll have to shoot the dog at least. We need to get the guy though. Let’s go on my count.”

     I agreed and Rusty started his count, “Three, two, one, go!”

     We both went around the trees and rushed to the porch. The guy unleashed the dog. We ran straight at them. When the dog was unleashed and saw us coming at him, everything stopped. He looked for a second and ran off around the corner of the house. The bad guy was left standing there by himself. We tackled him and after a brief struggle got him handcuffed with no problem. The whole time we walked him back to the car we were laughing at him and his dog.

     After the bad guy was secure, we looked around the house and the dog came up to us and was friendly. We patted him and he licked our hands. He was really a sweet dog. I’m assuming he was barking so much because of the commotion happening all at once. No one got hurt and the bad guy went to jail.