“I was pulling at you. I think I hit your back.”
“Your child was under a police dog.”
“I thought he was killing her.”
“So did I.”
She stared at me.
“You did?”
I looked at Titan.
“I was the one who yelled to shoot him.”
Karen’s mouth opened.
I expected judgment.
Instead, she sat down hard on the nearest bench.
“You thought you might have to kill your own dog to save my daughter.”
I did not answer.
“And then you stopped.”
“I saw his eyes.”
“What?”
“He wasn’t looking at Emily. He was looking at the leaves.”
Karen began crying again.
“Thank you for looking.”
Those four words stayed with me longer than every headline that followed.
The department placed Titan on temporary administrative hold while the incident was reviewed. That was routine and necessary. A K9 had broken command, left the handler, and made forceful contact with a child. Heroic outcome or not, the behavior had to be examined.
My actions were reviewed too.
Especially the shout.
The body-camera audio captured it clearly.
Shoot my K9.
During the first interview, a lieutenant asked why I gave that order.
“Because I believed he was mauling a seven-year-old.”
“Did you see a bite?”
“No.”
“Did you see blood?”
