The Dog Knows....But He's Not Talking

Acknowledgments

I have been fortunate to have been in a position that enabled me to write professional articles, chapters, books and lab manuals. About seven years ago I was unceremoniously driving to my office when I heard two radio announcers arguing about something that ended with one of them finally saying to the other, Well, the dog knows who did it.

Like a lightning bolt, ideas started flashing in my mind so fast that I pulled over to the curb and started writing down ideas on scarp paper fearful that I would forget something. Nothing like that had ever happened before. I’ve gotten spontaneous ideas before, but they were always about a topic I was writing or lecturing on; never about something as expansive as an actual plot in a book.

I spent a year subtly trying to convince friends, relatives and other writers I knew to take my ideas and continue things. One of them, editor, Bethann Sands, finally suggested that I write it myself. I convinced her to agree to read over an early draft of about 15 chapters and make some comments. It was like getting sliced up in a meat grinder except her early suggestions were right and woke me up to the fact that this project was not going to be quick nor easy.

Scott Barraclough, from the Mack Truck Company, was the first ‘expert’ who I talked to in order to keep technical information on trucks and their braking capabilities accurate.

Friend, Esther Rosenberg, many thanks for the necessary Yiddish expressions and for allowing the use of your name.

Zip and Pipe—my mother’s two German Shepherds. Both are long gone, but obviously not forgotten. Fortunately for all of us, you liked and accepted our dad. Otherwise there would be none of us and consequently, no book.

Information on police protocols and procedures was important and had to parallel what might happen in a city like Philadelphia. I was fortunate to have colleagues at work who were retired police officers and knowledgeable in these things. Jerold Essack (Corporal, retired) and Joseph Kellenbenz (patrol officer, retired) provided numerous bits of information that enabled me to make things accurate and realistic. In fact, Joe and his wife, Joanne, were early readers of my first rough draft and provided me with many more suggestions, some relating to the dogs.

My professional colleague, Joel Silbert, was instrumental in giving advice during many stages of the writing. It was he who suggested that I better make an early change in the plot and NOT have an important main character killed off. He also insisted that I had to include sex in the book, something that I managed to do simply by making those parts very humorous and parallel real to life experiences of people I knew and knew about. He also was the original reader of the rough draft and made countless suggestions including the most important one: keep going!

Naturally, several members of my personal family had to make sizeable contributions. My wife, Bryna, was able to give her opinion on everything from modifications in the story, to dealing with computer frustrations, to grammar and sentence structure.

My sister, Gayle, was another contributor virtually in all aspects of the book including the important editing and publishing necessities. Without her assistance, nothing would have emerged at the end.

Finally, my thanks to all of the people who took part in many of the events recounted here. I was able to borrow and modify names and events that appear throughout these chapters. The challenging and fun part was to put all of these characters, personalities and events together like a big and complex puzzle and still tell a story about what happens when the only witness to a murder is a dog and the dog knows…………

Dedication

To Grant James

and

To all those in uniform and not, who have risked their lives, limbs, and souls to help preserve our freedom and way of life.

Chapter 1 The Almost Perfect Family

It started off as a very routine day in a very average family that lived in a very average town outside of Philadelphia. Nobody, not even a professional soothsayer, could ever have predicted that what would happen that day would have such a profound effect on so many lives, even years later.

The Dodson family lived in Eastchester, a small town of about 35,000 hard working souls located about 30 miles from center city, Philadelphia. If there ever was a prototype family perfectly assembled for a television show in the 50’s, the Dodson family would be it. Unfortunately, this was the year 2006. The biggest emergency this family seemed to ever have to face was a flat tire on a car or one of the kids getting a C- on an algebra test. Nothing dramatic ever seemed to happen to them, even though they continuously participated in all sorts of sporting activities like soccer, baseball, and boating down at the New Jersey shore. This was about to change today.

The main member of this almost perfect family was father Robert, an electrical engineer by profession, who was lucky enough to be the only son of a successful businessman who had graciously handed over the entire business to his son when he, himself, turned sixty five years of age.

Robert was blessed with good looks, intellect, an athletic body and excellent family values instilled in him by his own parents. He was a graduate of the University of Connecticut where he majored in engineering, ran the 400 meters in track, and was president of his fraternity, Phi Sigma Delta. He had an innate ability to either avoid or solve all sorts of problems before they escalated out of control. This held true for things involving his family and his highly competi-tive electrical contracting business where daily problems with unions, suppliers, and even customers seemed to infrequently occur. He was a man who prided himself on being able to control things. This ability was about to change today.

The lady of the house was Sheila, an articulate woman who also seemed to be blessed with many positive attributes. She had grown up in nearby Morrisville, was a graduate of Temple University and now taught mathematics at Lower Moreland High School which was located barely twenty mile from her home. Growing up, female rivals used to joke that their lovely friend would never win the Miss America Contest, she’d take third place. Being able to combine brains and looks and even brawn made her the target of many male admirers; many of whom were either too shy to ask her out or convinced themselves that she would turn them down. Because of this, she actually spent many evenings and weekends alone either studying by herself or practicing swimming in the Temple pool. For some, this irony might seem like a bad twist of fate, but Sheila seemed to enjoy both the solitude and the freedom. She also possessed another interesting skill-- the ability to teach complex mathematical concepts to high school students most of whom would have preferred to be taking any other subject as long as it was taught by her.

In short, this was a woman who in another entirely different way was used to accomplishing things and being successful. She knew her family, organized things well, and was always in control and productive. This characteristic was about to change today.

From the very second she was born, it was apparent to family members that daughter, Penny Michelle, was a bit different. She weighed only five pounds, two ounces at birth, and arrived on the scene with pitch black hair and a light complexion, characteristics that remained with her throughout her life. Some relatives thought she might have been from different parents and mixed up at the hospital. One uncle remembered a distant aunt that Penny Michelle resembled. In a family of strapping athletic-looking people, she resembled a fragile china doll.

By age three, Penny Michelle was clearly able to express her desires. She always seemed to want to challenge family members by taking a contradictory position on virtually everything. If her mother thought her bedroom would look nice painted a popular light lavender, she’d think it would look nicer painted light orange. If her parents wanted her to wear her soccer shirt inside her pants, she’d want them outside. If they thought another shirt would look better outside her pants, she’d wear that shirt inside her pants. And on it went for just about everything.

After several hundred minor confrontations, almost everyone always acquiesced to her desires rather than have to fight never-ending battles. Fortunately, none of the decisions being made had anything to do with the critical and important parts of her maturation or with national security. Everyone just listened to her continuous comment, No, I am going to ………….. followed by her expressing her own opinion on something. It was also fortunate that these incidents or confrontations were usually expressed in a sweet and gentle manner so few real knock down drag out arguments ever really occurred.

As Penny Michelle, or PM as she was nicknamed, grew up, her parents tried to steer her in the direction of outside activities that were suitable for her delicate size and build like ballet, tennis and swimming. One can easily argue that ballet is both mentally and physically demanding and tennis and swimming have their challenges as well. Regardless, PM gravitated to field hockey and lacrosse. Field hockey was one sport that was supposed to be non-contact, yet players seemed to be colliding and landing on the ground quite frequently. This occurred more and more as the players got older and more experienced. Lacrosse was simply organized mayhem. PM, the china doll, loved both.

As PM got older and interpersonal relationships with the opposite sex developed, all the latent fears of the classic protective father also emerged. Robert was concerned that his delicate daughter was now being exposed to things that he realized he could not always control.

Son, Warren, could easily have been considered a chip off of the old block when compared to his dad. He looked like him, was built like him, and even moved with the same mannerisms as his dad. Relatives would joke that he also might one day attend the University of Connecticut and run the 400 meter dash in 48.35 seconds, his dad’s school record. The only real distinguishing difference was that he did not possess his dad’s personality. Whereas his dad would go about life seemingly in a vacuum with very few significant emotional outbursts, Warren was ten times as sensitive to the things that happened around him. When he was six years old, it took him months to get over the fact that one of his young friends moved out of the neighborhood. The fact that he had several other very good friends didn’t seem to matter to him. When his bicycle got stolen while he was in school, one would have thought that a member of his family had been kidnapped.

This extreme sensitivity manifested itself in school work and in outside activities like sports. Warren easily could have been considered his own worst enemy. Fortunately, he did well in almost everything which minimized any academic or social problems.

His parents were aware of Warren’s issues very early in his life and made some casual inquiries with school administrators and even the school psychologist. The net effect of all of this was that their observations were correct, but he was doing quite well and would probably outgrow his problem. They were reminded that there were many students in the school who had the opposite situation and simply weren’t motivated at all to do their best nor even care about things.

Warren’s favorite time was when he was with the family dog and especially when he was running with the dog since they could be carefree and in their own little world together. This idea was about to change today.

Perhaps the most popular and lighthearted member of the family was the dog Pipe; a seventy-five pound black and rust colored German Shepherd. He arrived in the family one Christmas as a pup and within days had won over everyone. Even at a very young age, he was able to retrieve his leash and carry it over to whomever he decided he wanted to walk him for that particular shift. The irony was everyone actually enjoyed doing what some people considered a real annoyance. This was due to the simple fact that Pipe really enjoyed going out for a walk or run or whatever with anyone. His tail was continuously wagging so much so that one would think that he was going out to dine each and every time. This was an animal that thoroughly enjoyed going anywhere with anyone for any reason at any time. His enthusiasm and zest for life were infectious to all those around him.

Pipe even became somewhat of the neighborhood hero when he was about one year old. For reasons known only to him, he sensed that something was wrong in the next door neighbor’s home and figured out a way to get out of his house and across the lawn to the neighbor’s home. There he confronted two men who were trying to quietly sneak out of that house with two suitcases full of family possessions including jewelry and money. Suddenly this calm animal did a Dr. Jekell and Mr. Hyde act and became a very intimidating animal that frightened the crooks so much that they both wet themselves, abandoned their respective suitcases, and took refuge up a nearby tree. Eventually, somebody driving by for the second time noticed the dog sitting under the tree with two suitcases and pacing around growling in a manner fit for a lion. By the time the police arrived, both men were physically and mentally exhausted having been forced to hang in the tree for well over an hour and terrified that they might lose their grip and fall below to the waiting jaws.

Pipe also became a very good ballplayer. At first, he was able to retrieve any thrown ball. Shortly, he became adept at trying to outrun a highly thrown ball and actually catch it before it bounced. This appeared to everybody to be a fantastic attribute at the time. This was about to change today.

Pipe had developed individual relationships with each member of the family. To the family as a whole, he was the family pet, strong, alert, loving and protective. For Mr. Dodson, he had developed respect and always knew that this was the most powerful and influential member of the family. When they went out for walks or runs, Pipe always stayed about eight to ten feet away to give the big boss some room. With Mrs. Dodson, he exercised another plan. Even though she presented herself in a very secure manner and image, he wanted onlookers to know that he was seventy five pounds of dedicated police dog and almost always positioned himself right by her side. He seemed to love it when they would walk down a sidewalk together that was full of pedestrians and everyone would part to the sides to give them room. PM, naturally, was handled differently. Pipe was an animal that somehow understood that this frail looking girl was a very complex member of the family. Consequently, when he was around her, especially when they were alone, he would stay somewhat distant from her, but visible or paradoxically on top of her feet, depending on her mood. If PM was getting disciplined by her parents or if her brother was getting too rough with her when they were playing, Pipe would let everyone know that he was upset by jumping around or howling. This behavior became even more obvious when PM had her first real social date and the young nervous kid became even more anxious when he realized that he was being scrutinized and literally dissected by the canine member of the family.

Mom, how can I have people over later if Pipe is around? PM complained to her mother, anticipating future social encounters and embarrassing problems.

He’ll be fine, her mother reassured her, hiding a wink in her eye and a smirk on her lips.

Pipe’s relationship with Warren made the old television show with Jeff Miller and Lassie look like those two main characters didn’t even know each other. Although German Shepherds are known to be one man dogs, Pipe was undoubtedly a family dog, but he also had his favorite member of the family and it was Warren.

Everybody liked to walk Pipe, but Warren took him further from home and to unusual places. They also would frequently walk all the way to the high school and then start running 100 yard wind sprints on the school football field. This often times attracted a crowd of casual runners who tried desperately to keep up with the dog. The scene could easily have made any Hollywood director proud. There was this dog running slightly ahead of a boy who was usually running way ahead of a diverse and motley group of people. It almost looked like a scene from the movie Forrest Gump.

And so it was on one beautiful day in May when Warren and Pipe once again took off for some fun and exercise and to play catch.

Chapter 2 The Almost Perfect Driver

Gary Sharpe was a thirty-six year old truck driver residing in Sellersville, New Jersey. He always referred to himself as a professional truck driver since he was so diligent with the way he practiced what he called his ‘craft.’ Both he and his truck always looked good. He was even known to occasionally put a coat of wax on his cab during a delivery while his trailer was being unloaded.

He had gotten into this business quite by accident. A friend of his, a private long distance hauler, was forced into early retirement and made the truck and accompanying accounts available to Gary for a very attractive price.

Before all of this happened, Gary had attended Drexel University for over a year pursuing a degree in automotive engineering. However, his passion was always with designing and racing cars. He promised his parents that he would take a leave of absence from school and see if he could make a successful career in his other endeavor. As a result of this decision, it could be said that he etched out a somewhat decent living racing cars along the Eastern seaboard.

After close to ten years, he had accumulated countless trophies and titles and enough money to keep re-investing in his cars. However, he was never able to figure out a way to get noticed by the major companies which was where the big money and possible endorsements took place.

During this time, Gary was known by his fellow racers as a driver who was always well prepared and who had a gift for innately making the correct move at a critical time during a race. His sharp vision, great peripheral awareness and lightening reaction time all enabled him to make and accomplish some gutsy moves. Unfortunately, the great pay day or the great opportunity always seemed to elude him.

The life of a long distance driver can be many different things to many different people. Some drivers love the solitude and independence. Others find it very boring and monotonous with no real end to the seemingly endless miles. However Gary felt about his occupation, he was also quite successful at it. He had easily joined the Million Mile Club designating him as an elite driver who had avoided any accidents for over one million miles.

During one of his early cross-country truck ventures, he stopped at Olga’s Diner located somewhat off Route 80 in Nebraska and met Marcia, a young teacher who was ironically pinch hitting for the regular waitress that day. However one explains the complex magnetism that can occur between two people, the end result of this chance encounter was that they were attracted to each other enough that Gary purposely modified his future truck routes to include a visit to her when feasible.

Eventually, this led to some long distance dating, many long distance phone calls and trips by her, sometimes as his passenger, to visit the East coast.

Now, six years later, the two of them were married, living in New Jersey, and had one and two- thirds children in their family.

Maybe it was fatigue, maybe it was his pre-occupation with his wife, son and soon to be born daughter. Whatever it was, the fast moving blur that Gary sensed a few yards ahead of his truck was quicker than his lightening reflexes and Gary and his truck heard and felt the sickening yelp and bump associated with running over something that had seconds before been very much alive.

Instinctively, he knew what had to be done. One doesn’t drive countless miles across the country over many desolate roads without occasionally bumping into some form of wildlife. Fortunately for Gary, almost all of these unfortunate encounters ended with him only having to notify the local authorities. Today would be different.

He quickly downshifted the gears and safely moved his big truck to the side of the road. A quick, deep breath, followed by a short prayer and he was out of the cab to face a dilemma that he knew was not going to be good. It only took him a few steps to realize that that he had to go back into his sleeper box and fetch a small blanket that he frequently used to stay warm.

Nobody but police, fire, healthcare, and military personnel are remotely prepared for what awaited him. A big Damn came out of the distraught driver’s mouth as he reached for the blanket. Nobody, but him, could appreciate why he had two different reasons for being upset about using this particular blanket to cover up the animal.

There in the street lay what was left of a dog. It reminded him of how a squashed squirrel looked when run squarely over by a car. Unfortunately, what lay in the street were the remains of a magnificent animal and family pet.

You killed my dog, is what Gary heard next followed by a teary version of the same thing.

Suddenly what appeared to be an isolated road with very little traffic became a log jam with people and cars everywhere.

Get that kid away from here, some well-meaning person yelled and a group of people did just that.

You didn’t have a chance on this one. I saw the whole thing, another person was heard to say.

This seemingly innocent remark fortunately was heard by the obviously upset truck driver and would prove to be the most important thing Gary would hear that day. It would come to be the ground work for him to be able to accept what had just happened.

Was anyone really at fault? How could a thirteen year old boy understand that on the day he was to throw a ball further than he ever thought possible, the emotion of joy over his accomplishment and horror over the outcome would manifest themselves within seconds?

How could a dog, always excited about chasing a thrown ball, anticipate where it was headed and that his life was about to abruptly end?

How could a professional truck driver know that a ball and a dog were charging ahead of him and stop his thirty ton truck traveling at forty miles per hour in less than fifty feet.

The next few hours were somewhat of a blur to everyone involved. The police arrived rather quickly and took the proper statements from the proper people and witnesses. They placed the remains of the dog in a body bag usually reserved for humans and had traffic back to normal within forty-five minutes of the actual incident. The Dodson family members were notified and carefully informed that their son was physically fine, but their dog had been accidentally killed.

The family was asked to pick up their son at the police station and to make arrangements to also remove what remained of their pet dog.

Gary Sharpe was questioned in order to corroborate his story with the eyewitnesses. In a very short period of time, this incident was relegated to the unofficial category of non-consequential as far as the police department was concerned. After all, no humans were injured and nobody’s fence or tree was even damaged. The only problem with all of these conclusions would be the collateral damage suffered by the young man who hours before was living on top of the world.

Chapter 3 The Almost Perfect Burial

Robert Dodson was somehow able to absorb the shocking news that his wife had just called him about and etch out a decent plan. He thought it best to think in terms of what had to be done immediately and then shortly afterwards and finally what might have to be done at some time in the future. He had no idea that there may be long term lingering after effects requiring a fourth or fifth line of action.

It seemed best for him to drive to the police station and pick up the remains of Pipe while his wife drove there to pick up Warren. Both he and Sheila felt that temporarily storing their dog at the veterinarian’s and then shopping around for an animal cemetery and all of the associated things that would follow were not the proper things to do. Burying Pipe on their property would have been desirable, but was not practical and was also possibly illegal.

Consequently, they decided to call their vet, explain the circumstances, and ask if they could drop the remains of their pet off for cremation. His ashes would later be scattered in the wind on their property.

Both parents realized how fragile the entire situation was since Warren was taking this loss very hard. They also knew that Penny Michelle was going to have to be very supportive of her brother and not go out of her way to ever imply that he was the one at fault, even though it may have been true.

There are times in everyone’s life when significant things happen and other people have to grow up immediately. This was going to have to be one of those times when PM was going to have to suck it up and accept what just happened and help her brother find peace.

Sheila Dodson had already called and alerted the veterinarian about what they would like to do and why. The only request that was made was that Mr. Dodson drive the 4 X 4 with the dog’s remains to the rear of the office where it could be brought inside without disturbing any of the other patrons. Please take care of what you discussed with my wife and I’ll take care of things here when you call us back, was all that came mumbling out of Mr. Dodson’s mouth. Somehow the assistants at the vet knew what he was trying to say and nodded to him. They obviously had a great deal of experience in these scenarios.

Robert Dodson then departed the vet’s and started the short trip home knowing full well what awaited him there. The normally 5 or 6 minute drive seemed to take 30 seconds on this particular evening. He pulled into the driveway, sighed to himself, and exited the jeep. Coming into the house was really strange. As much as he was aware of the facts that had just occurred, he somehow still expected that his arrival would be met by a barking dog with a