Dog Fight At Work

The Chihuahua and Her Pitt Bulls
(rated C for Courageous)
(Or S for Stupid!)

Well it has been a while since I have been here, but I am sure you remember the routine. One night while on patrol I get a call to a domestic in progress in the low income apartment complex. I was working the "mid-watch" shift which is 7:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. and we usually stayed pretty busy. This was no exception. It was the three of us as usual, Tommy, Scott and Me and we all went to this call. It was a guy beating his girlfriend. We arrive and can hear a loud argument going on, and maybe even things being thrown. I don't remember for sure I just remember we went to the back door and are pounding to be let in. She comes to the door and of course now he/HE settles down. Jerk! I don't know why I can't remember the details right now, but it seems she was showing signs of abuse, but way back in the day we could not arrest for domestic abuse unless she would file a complaint. Most the time they wouldn't. Usually out of fear of being beaten worse when he got out of jail. But I do remember a cute little boy shaking in fear, crying for his mommy was getting beat. The guy was not his daddy, but rather her boyfriend. She was a little thing too. Very skinny, young and a cute girl, but her hair was all a mess, her clothes were a shamble. There was not much room, when you go into the back door you were in the kitchen. Just right inside the door is a little space before you got to the counter top and sink. It is real narrow, don't even think there was a table in that room but there might have been. I just remember it being about five feet wide, kind of like a shotgun house if you know what I mean. The rooms are narrow and it was a two story apartment. Living room, kitchen and maybe a bathroom downstairs, and a couple bedrooms upstairs. That is pretty much it. We get the girl out of the house and she just wants to leave. She wants to take her boy and leave. So we let her. I have NEVER had any tolerance for domestic abuse. I don't know, maybe it is because I am a woman, or maybe I just have a very strong sense of justice, whatever the reason, I always took it as a pleasure to work a domestic. Crazy? Yes, but it was my goal, my mission to save the world, one woman at a time. And I gave it my best shot. Today was no different. I told her she did not have to take that. She did not deserve to be beaten. And more than anything else in the whole world, she needed to be treated differently for the sake of her son. She needed to protect him, and to teach him that is not how you treat a woman, or any life for that matter.

Well after she leaves I just can't let it go. I was angry. I was really upset with this jerk and there was nothing I could do to him if she would not cooperate. So I had a plan. I didn't say it was a good one, just a plan devised in a short amount of time (maybe a couple seconds or so.) I knew my partners really well. I had joined the police department with them, they were like brothers to me and they would NEVER let me get hurt. I knew that as well as I knew my name. So armed with that knowledge I put my plan into action. I jumped right into the middle of this man's face and started nagging him. I could not shut up. I was ragging on him like a little Chihuahua after another dog. The big bad guy was just standing there. I made some comment like "oh, you like to beat women, well come oh big guy, hit me. " "Come on man, hit me, you seem to like beating on women, just do it." I taunted him, I attacked his ego with no mercy. Now I am not telling you what I did was right, heck I won't even tell you what I did was smart, but it was my plan. The only one I had at the moment. I wouldn't shut up, I would not stop. I kept barking and barking. One time I looked over my shoulder and saw Scott standing there with his arms folded across his chest. He stand 6'4" at least, pretty rugged looking, standing with his feet apart chest wide. Tommy, he is about 5'10" and is about that broad too. He has a huge barrel chest with a tiny waist and hips, and little short legs. Both guys have on their black police boots shinned and the leather we wore then was that shiny stuff. Not the dull or fabric stuff of today. It seems Tommy had his hands on his hips standing there and they just both were watching me. They were the Pitt Bulls standing behind the loud, hyper Chihuahua, and I was not on leash either. They were not trying to call me off, they were just waiting. I knew what was going to happen. Take a shot, just one punch, that is all I needed for him to do. Yeah it might hurt a little, maybe even a lot, but not near as much as he was going to hurt when my guys got through with him. AND he would be going to jail. I could see the smirk in Tommy and Scott's eyes when I took the second to glance at them. They knew exactly what I was doing and they were going to let me. They were there to protect me when I got in over my head. After what seemed an eternity I ran out of steam. I stopped. He never moved. He stood there, just stood there. I turned to leave then turned back and I told him, I better not ever come back here on a call where you lay a hand on her again. YOU HEAR ME? I better not ever have to come back. I didn't threaten him, I merely made him a promise. And my word is good.