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Say WHAT, dispatch?

On a cold and snowy evening I received a frantic call from a woman advising her neighbors dog had frozen to death. She was obviously heart-broken, and began telling me that he was such a sweet puppy, and that the nighbors had moved and left the poor thing to starve. She says, "I just fed him yesterday! He's in the front yard and hasn't moved all day. He's frozen standing straight up!" So being the animal lover that I am, I send one of our newer deputies to "welfare check" a possible 10-7 dog. Reluctance eminates from the radio. Who wants to get out in the snow and ice to check on a dead dog? Anyway, the deputy meets the RP at her house, then goes next door. A few moments later he goes 10-8, followed by an unrepressed chuckle. "Dog is 10-4, dipatch. Advise the RP that a cast-iron weenie dog doesn't require much shelter." I rolled.

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