If you are interested in joining us, click through the Twitter link up at the top of the banner on the right hand side of the page.

Now it’s time to go get ready.

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The speaker is Bob Welsh, a retired Ohio State Trooper.

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They look at the soda canister the same way my dog looks at bad guys…

Enjoy!

(and sorry…I’ve no idea what language the subtitles are in…)

Yesterday, in the few hours between opening presents and turkey dinner, hubby and I drove our dogs out to one of our favourite places to take them for a run.  To get there, you travel through an industrial area, and at mid-day on Christmas the area was a literal ghost town with everything locked up, gated and void of any human life.

On the way home, hubby noticed the man door to one of the warehouses was open.  There were no vehicles in the parking lot and no one around.  We stopped and approached the warehouse on foot (how weird to be sleuthing with hubby) and saw a ground floor window was also open.  My first thought was someone had broken in through the window, stolen all the loot they could carry, and exited via the door.

By all appearances, they were long gone.

I’ll not be the one to tell you being a police officer is all roses, but the rewards far outweigh the difficulties.  There are long and odd hours, missed weekends and stress on the body.  The men and women who have chosen this ultimately rewarding law enforcement career know it comes with some amount of sacrifice and understand the merit of contributing to our society as a whole.

Officer’s families make similar sacrifices and it rests with the officer to ensure his or her family is acknowledged and thanked for their supporting role.  I, for one, could not do this job if it weren’t for the love and support of my husband, children, family (thanks mom and dad!) and friends, which is important, as they are the main reason behind my continued passion for and involvement in policing.  Even though I long-ago found my purpose in law enforcement, the ‘purpose’ itself is forever evolving and I am constantly evaluating what it actually is and what it means.

Everyone must find their own purpose – what is yours?

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The end of 2011 is fast approaching.  Wasn’t it just last month I started my dog-handling career?  Of course not – years have passed, and I can count my time remaining as a dog handler in the same fashion new mothers give the age of their babies – 24 months, 18 months, 12 months… This time frame is the only downside to having a dog as a partner, because their lives are so much shorter than ours.  Those who have dogs in their lives, regardless if the dog is a work partner, assistance dog, pet or companion, will know exactly what I’m talking about.

The end of 2011 also brings a close to a memorable year, during which the world’s cameras were zoomed in and focused on Vancouver on June 15, 2011.

All of us know the riot is a black mark against Vancouver – it will take a while for the mark to wear away and I’m okay with that.  It should take some time for the wound to heal, because if it heals too quickly we may forget how poorly our City was treated.

Perhaps that should be one of our purposes as Vancouverites – to remain passionate about our City and to always remember what happened while at the same time not allowing it to consume us in continued anger and/or fear.  There must be continued growth, at all levels of policing and citizenship, if we are to learn from the events and the aftermath of June 15th.

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From a blogging perspective, it’s a been a steady if somewhat leaner year in regards to posts.  I’ve finally added Twitter to the blog as it’s much easier to blast out information in 140 characters than to sit at a computer and craft a post….somehow, though, Twitter’s ease feels like cheating on an exam…besides, if given the choice between quality and quantity, I always prefer the former, particularly for important stuff.

Give-aways always tally the most comments (who doesn’t like free stuff??) and I’ve a couple of give-aways lined up for the new year – one is a signed novel written by a fellow VPD officer…it’s a great read and I’ll share more about it in January.

Posts on what actually happens in police work garner more focused and sometimes critical attention.  The ‘In the Line of Duty‘ series resulted in many comments and emails on the topic of when a police officer is killed and what citizens and officers can do to prevent similar tragedies.

Sgt. Ryan Russell (Toronto Metropolitan Police Service, Ontario), Constable Garrett Styles (York Regional Police Service, Ontario) and Officer Vincent Roy (Police de Bromont, Quebec) all made the ultimate sacrifice in 2011.

They will never be forgotten.

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Then there’s you, the reader.  You are a lively bunch with your comments!  Even so, email tends to be the way most of you communicate, especially if you come to the blog through my articles in The Vancouver Sun.  Dozens of you get in touch every month and I read every single email.  Thank you for your continued support of police officers everywhere.

Here’s a little bit about you, the reader:

• in order of the volume of readers, you are from Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, Germany, South Africa, India, the Philippines and Spain
• 706 of you have clicked the “Who Are You?” poll on the right side bar – I won’t list the results here as you can simply look to your right and view the results
• you love to read and look at photos of police dogs, as every time there is a ‘give-away’, site visits skyrocket
• you obviously care about your law enforcement officers

– Mike McCardell

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It’s unfortunate more parents do not realize the truth in Mr. McCardell’s words, even if he should have added a disclaimer of saying you give someone more opportunity for a good life if you give them a good childhood.

Even though it does not guarantee it, a good, fair and consistent upbringing certainly prepares a child for having a happy, solid and productive adulthood.

For some parents, it is all about appearances: what their friends think, how their children’s school perceives them, what their co-workers believe.  Their perfection is but a thin veneer that cracks easily when not under public scrutiny.

Take, for instance, the call I went to a few years ago.  A neighbour called in about a loud verbal argument in the next apartment, and my partner and I heard the name calling, rude language and shouting between the parent and the teenager.  It was disturbing how the parent was screaming and swearing at the teenager.

The shouts were cut off when we knocked, and the father was smiling and gracious when he opened the door, as if he hadn’t just been telling his son how useless he was and how he wished his son would get out of his sight. The father was very good at concealing his emotions, but his son was making no effort to hide how he was feeling, and he glowered from the other side of the room.

The father went on with how everything was fine, that we did not need to be there, that they were having a discussion over his son’s grades.

But how do you think the fourteen year old son felt, having his father scream at him that he was f****** useless?  I heard the dad yelling, and he really sounded as if he meant it.

Aren’t parents the ones who are supposed to be able to maintain their cool and take a step back if they feel themselves losing it?  Maybe this was a one-off for this father and son, but something about the way they were both acting led us to believe this sort of communication was a regular occurrence.

Or look at what I witnessed this morning, on a day off, as I was out for a walk with my dog.  A mom was loading her kids into her van and couldn’t find her keys nor her travel coffee mug.

She immediately blamed her older daughter, saying, “You little f****** bitch, what did you do with my mug?  How the f*** am I supposed to get you to school on time if you keep taking my f****** keys?”

She did not realize I was coming up behind her and that I could hear everything.  It was a bit awkward when she turned around at the sound of my footfalls, and she immediately gave me an icy smile to let me know she had everything under control.  Okay, maybe her daughter routinely takes her coffee mug, or maybe it wasn’t the first time her daughter misplaced her keys, but to call her daughter a ‘little f****** bitch’ is taking it a bit far.

I can only imagine what the family dynamics are within their home, when they are secure in the knowledge that no one else is looking.  It makes me cringe.

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There are many more examples of poor parenting, some far worse.  As a police officer, I’ve responded to calls where children have been beaten, sexually assaulted, abused, neglected and even killed by their parents.  Those are the more extreme cases.

But even the two examples I just gave you, where the parents lost verbal control and belittled their kids, have a lasting ripple effect.  It might start out as a small insult, a tiny dart of true cruelty or a moment of loss of control, but chances are the kids will not forget it.

I’m a parent.  I know I have made some mistakes along the way, but I have never disrespected my children like this, and perhaps that is why I find this behaviour so disturbing.

As for the mom in the van, she acts like this on a regular basis as I’ve heard her before.

Does she strike her kids?  Not that I know of.  Does she not feed them or fail to provide a roof over their heads?  No.  By some standards, she is doing all she needs to do in raising her kids.

My opinion, though, is this mom failing to provide her children the stability and security they need to be confident, self-aware and emotionally capable.  She is not setting fair boundaries and is flying off the handle when the kids fail to stay within the ever-shifting family limits.

Raising children is hard and is the single most important job parents have.  There are an unknown number of obstacles between a child and their future well-adjusted adulthood, and it is up to parents to make sure their children are equipped to deal with those challenges.

I’m not trying to turn this post into one on child-raising, but so many of our societal and criminal issues could be improved if parents did a better job of parenting.

What do you think?

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]]> http://www.behindtheblueline.ca/blog/blueline/2011/11/28/an-uphill-battle/feed/ 13 http://www.behindtheblueline.ca/blog/blueline/2011/11/03/2012-police-dog-calendar/ http://www.behindtheblueline.ca/blog/blueline/2011/11/03/2012-police-dog-calendar/#comments Thu, 03 Nov 2011 22:35:44 +0000 Sandra http://www.behindtheblueline.ca/blog/blueline/?p=5207 The Vancouver Police Dog Squad has released its 2012 Police Dog calendar, funded and produced by the Candy Anfield Memorial Foundation.   Candy Anfield, a Vancouver police officer, lost her battle with cancer in 2004.

Photographer Derek Cain, who is also a Vancouver police officer, donated his time, skill and equipment to capture the spirit of our working dogs.

Here is a sampling of photos that are not in the calendar:

Calendars are $10.00 each.

All of the proceeds will be donated to the BC Cancer Foundation and the BC Children’s Hospital Foundation.

Sales of the 2011 calendar resulted in a total donation of $15,000.00!

Let’s try and beat that this year!

If you would like to buy a calendar in person, members of the Dog Squad will be at the intersection of Burrard St. and Robson St, tomorrow morning, Friday, November 4, 2011, from 7am to 10 am.

**UPDATE – We will also be at the intersection of Georgia St and Granville St**

Come on down and meet your favourite police dogs and help support this very worthy cause.

Calendars can be purchased online by visiting Studio Five-0.  If you order two or more calendars there is no shipping charge.

For a full list of retail and other outlets that will be selling the calendars in and around Vancouver, please visit the Vancouver Police Dog Squad website.

We hope to see you downtown tomorrow!

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Here are a few more:

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Thanks again to Derek for allowing me to post his wonderful photos.

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A letter of correspondence from one police agency (not the VPD), dated from the 1920′s, stated their department’s women police officers were responsible for ‘emergency and constructive work with women and children’ and their duties were considered ‘protective-preventative’.  Police women did not work in general patrol, did not carry firearms, and did not do any of the duties carried out by policemen.  They were thought to have enough work in the Women’s Division that they would not be required to attempt the same work as a man.

Jump ahead to 2011 – Women now have the same policing duties as their male counterparts, and are (or have been) employed in all units and squads within the Vancouver Police Department.  It’s usually a good mix, because men and women bring something a little different to the table.

But one things drives me crazy – the uniforms.

Or, more accurately, the lack of women’s uniforms.

The Dog Squad is one of a few sections within the department where officers wear a specialized, task specific uniform.  As dog handlers, our uniforms are more rugged, more comfortable and more suited to our jobs.  Called BDU’s (Battle Dress Uniform) or TDU’s (Tactical Duty Uniforms), the uniforms are an excellent choice for urban policing and should be considered for all uniformed sections, including patrol.

We purchase the uniforms from a large company, and up until last year they did not make a task specific uniform for women.  For the first few years as a dog handler, I tried wearing the men’s uniforms but found they did not fit well/were uncomfortable and I ended up wearing a uniform that was half law enforcement and half paramedic.  The men’s shirts are okay, but the women’s shirts are a joke as the pockets are tiny and do not even fit a notebook.  Almost every single female police dog handler I spoke to ran in to the same issue, and most were wearing the paramedic pants or had their uniforms custom made and flown in from Ontario.

The company finally produced the BDU/TDU uniform in a women’s cut in late 2009, so I was a very happy officer to finally have the required uniform.  It is super comfortable and far superior in quality to that currently worn by patrol.  After speaking to the other female dog handlers, our overall response to the uniform has been, “FINALLY!”

Here’s the kicker – the company does not produce the same uniform in green or a summer weight material (like they do for the men), and I sent them an email last week to ask if such a uniform was in the works.  They replied within a day to tell me, “No, but thank you for your email.”

Now I am forced to source out another supplier if I want to be properly equipped.  The only problem is, no one else makes the required uniform either.

What’s a gal to do?  It might as well be 1925.

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I should start my own uniform company…

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Today, for the 34th time since 1978, family, friends, loved ones and officers gathered across Canada to remember the fallen.  It is a day to reflect on the ultimate sacrifice made by those officers, to pay respects and to support their families.

2011 has been marked by the deaths of two Canadian police officers:

• January 12, 2011 – Toronto Police Sgt. Ryan Russell was struck and killed by a stolen snowplow
• June 28, 2011 – York Regional Police Constable Garrett Styles was killed when the van he pulled over dragged him for approx. 300 meters before rolling over, pinning him beneath it.

The deaths of Sgt. Russell and Cst. Styles leave a mark on every officer, and we honour them on this solemn day to keep their memories alive.

To the families of these two fine officers, I pray your burden has lightened in recent months and that you have begun to heal.  I do not know what I would do if I were to lose a close comrade in the line of duty, or, God forbid, my husband.

My thoughts and prayers are with you, as they have been since the day your officer was taken from you.

Please know this – Officers Russell and Styles will not be forgotten.

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a: 1) a preconceived or opinion : 2) an adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge

b: an instance of such judgement or opinion

c: an irrational attitude of hostility directed against an individual, a group, a race, or their supposed characteristics

- Merriam-Webster online dictionary

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I’ve been yelled at, spit on, punched, kicked and bitten.  I have been called names, challenged on my personal views and have endured a litany of anonymous insults from those too cowardly to speak to my face.

All this from those I have sworn to protect and serve.

For the most part, this behaviour does not overly bother me, as it’s an expected part of this sometimes very difficult job.  Acts of kindness, well-wishes and heart felt ‘thank you’s’ from citizens make up for the other, less desirable side-effects of being a law enforcement officer.You simply cannot dwell on incidents when a person makes your job more difficult, and I’m usually able to adhere to this mantra.

But this past weekend, I had my patience tested.

It was a very busy night and police units were pulled taut in every direction all across Vancouver.  As a dog handler, my job is to respond to any situation where the services of the police dog may be used, and to cover/assist patrol units. I spent the night going from call to call, covering units, and making the occasional traffic stop (road criminals were everywhere).  With the exception of a spectacular roll-over accident where the driver and single occupant survived, the majority of the night was uneventful.

Until the witching hour – the last hour of shift.

A stabbing, a foot chase, a theft from auto in progress, a violent domestic – everything happened at once.  I went to the stabbing and the other dog handlers went to everything else.  I was not required at the stabbing, so after helping out with what I could, I cleared the scene and headed towards where the other handlers had their hands full.  I had not driven far when a patrol unit, on a different call, asked for a unit to cover them as they were dealing with two belligerent suspects.  They had responded to a 911 call of an altercation on the street where the caller identified the aggressors by physical characteristics and clothing, so it was clear who was who when the single police car rolled up.

When I arrived at the scene, one man was in handcuffs, another was conversing with one of two officers, and three additional people were standing off to the side.  Both men dealing with police were loud, verbally aggressive and posturing.  The three people standing off to the side were quiet and had a confused and mildly concerned look about them.

I stood by with the second, un-handcuffed male while the officers went to work putting the pieces of the story together.  After all was said and done, we discovered the two males were verbally assaulted by an unknown group of people who threw racial slurs at them before leaving in a taxi.  The two men took offence.  The three people standing next to the insult-slingers did know anyone and were in the wrong place at the wrong time .  The two men believed they were involved and challenged them.

In the end, it was all a ‘misunderstanding’.

But while speaking with the one man, he challenged me, saying the only reason I was ‘jacking him up’ was because of the colour of his skin.  He accused me of not being able to see past ethnicity to the real person underneath.  He called me a racist and pointed to the shoulder flash on my uniform with the comment that police were always ready to crucify a coloured man.  He said, not without some pride, of how I had no idea who I was dealing with, and I had better start treating him with respect.

I responded by making a similar comment to him, saying he was obviously prejudiced against police, as he had clearly not looked past my uniform to see he was speaking with a reasonable person.  I told him he was as prejudiced as he was accusing me of being, and I made a point of telling him I was there only because of a 911 call.  If the call turned out to be unfounded, he would be on his way.  Until then, the police were duty bound to identify everyone involved.

The man was not to be convinced.  He continually mentioned the fact he and his friend were coloured and that two of the three attending officers were white.  He also pointed out the third officer, who was of South Asian descent, looked more like a gang-banger than he did.

It was at that point I felt like I was trying to reason with a pouty, insolent child.  The man said we targeted them because of their ethnicity and not because of the way they were conducting themselves.  That’s when I finally lost my temper.

I told the man he was acting like a fool.  It bothers me when someone accuses me of something simply because of my uniform, but it really gets under my skin when my accuser is deaf to all reason.

I asked him if he knew the definition of hypocrisy.  He demanded clarification, and I voiced my opinion of him hating the colour blue, regardless of who was wearing it. I repeated the same line he had slung in my direction, and quoted, “You don’t know who I am.”

What I did not do was ask him to ‘start respecting me’, as I’m not sure he even respected himself.  Besides, if you have to ask for respect, you are guaranteed not to get it.

It seemed to work, at least for as long as it took us to sort out why the 911 had been made in the first place.  The two men apologized to the three witnesses and all of them went on their way. We three officers convened to talk about what had happened when loud voices from down the street were explaining to anyone who would listen that the ‘cops had nothing better to do than to harass them’.

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