The Keller Police Department threw a party for its K-9 officer of nine years, Rowdy, on Feb. 5.
Rowdy, a 10-year-old Belgian Malinois, was getting older and less agile, so a puppy K-9 officer will be brought in to the department to replace him.
More than 100 city officials, residents and friends attended. People just can’t get enough of the "best bargain taxpayers get."
The cake eaten, the hugs given and the guests gone, Maureen Cooke sat down for an interview to look back at her and Rowdy’s partnership. Forty minutes somehow passed in an instant as Cooke — who says she’s better known now as Rowdy’s mom — discussed Rowdy’s personality, his desire to come out of retirement and the time he knew better than the officers urging him to chase a giant bird.
Cooke, 56, was a patrol officer in Keller PD for two years before she was appointed to be Keller’s next K-9 handler in October 2005, and it changed her life as, together, they changed the city.
Here is a Q&A interview in which Cooke tells about her time on patrol with Rowdy in her own words.
What were you expecting when you first started patrolling with Rowdy?
“My main concern was that we got a dog that was completely different than the one we previously had. I’m a very social officer, and to me, the most important thing is to socialize the dog, because I saw too many officers that were proud of the fact that their dog was not approachable or friendly. That concerned me a lot, because I thought you can have a dog who has a switch. The dog doesn’t just have to hate everybody to do its job. If they like everybody, it doesn’t mean they can’t do their job. I was hoping to turn the K-9 program around here.”
How did you change it?
“I deployed Rowdy the first month that I had him here more than the previous handler did in three years. I thought there’s no reason to have a dog if you’re not going to use him, not only for narcotics and searches, but also a tool to use with the kids. When I take him out in public, everybody knows Rowdy.”
What’s it like working with a dog?
“It’s a blast. He’s absolutely the best partner I could ever have. He’s always got my back. We didn’t deal with the nicest people on the planet, we got into a lot of messes. He’s saved my life quite a few times.”
How’d he get his name?
“[Laughs] Because he’s rowdy. He’s like that all the time, that’s how he is at my house. It’s non-stop.”
Sgt. Jared Lemoine told some of his favorite Rowdy stories (at the retirement party). Can you share another?
“Somebody had broken into a bunch of buildings in Southlake. We ran through one that night, and I could tell that he was on a fresh scent, but the guy wasn’t there anymore. There was a little ravine between these two buildings and it had big cattails in it. Rowdy takes off on a track, and we’re running down the hill. I have Southlake officers with me and across the ravine are Grapevine officers.
We get to the edge of the water and the cattails start (waving back and forth). I’m yelling, “Let me see your hands!” and Rowdy’s barking, but he keeps turning toward the Southlake officer running with us. I’m wondering, ‘What’s going on? This is a perfectly trained dog, the cattails are going like this [waves arms] so there’s obviously somebody in there, and this dog keeps turning around to the officer.’
I’m hollering commands, and all of a sudden the cattails lay down and out comes this giant egret. [Laughs] I realized Rowdy knew there wasn’t a person in the cattails, but I’m telling him to bite, so he’s turning to the officer because he’s the closest human. Rowdy’s looking at me like, ‘Really? You want me to bite a bird?’
Us handlers say trust your dog. Don’t think you’ve got it figured out, because you don’t ... Every time I’ve trusted my dog, he’s been right, and I’ve been wrong. It takes a while though, because you have to have that bond with him, that says, ‘I know you’re going to save me.’
Rowdy’s never had a live bite. Everybody’s given up. Rowdy’s saved people’s lives because they didn’t have to be shot because they gave up. We had one kid one night who came outside, saying he was going to kill his whole family ... he starts running toward where he thinks officers are hiding, trying to get shot. He was all messed up on dope. We have the house surrounded, and I get Rowdy out of the car and I start hollering commands at this guy and he’s screaming everything he can think of at me but he laid down and gave up. He told me later, ‘Rowdy saved my life that night. I had no problem at all getting shot. But I did not want to get bit. I knew if that dog bit me it was going to hurt for a long time and I was going to live through it.’”
Are you going to be the handler for the next K-9 officer?
“No. I’m turning that over. I don’t want to start over, that’s not fair to Rowdy and I’ll never find another dog like him. He’s one-in-a-million. Another officer, I’m tickled to death for him, Joe Salvato, is looking for a dog. I’ll be training with them to keep the kind of dog we want in Keller.”
Is there a brotherhood among K-9 officer handlers?
“There really is. I went to Pepper’s funeral (A memorial service on Feb. 4 for Wise County K-9 officer shot and killed in the line of duty last month). That was a tough deal. I didn’t know there were that many handlers; they came from all over Texas and Oklahoma for that funeral. It’s a very close-knit group because of the nature of what we do. We’re the dog cops.
We usually get the worst car — mine (a Ford Crown Victoria) had the oldest radar — but we don’t care about any of that. I wanted patrol to have the latest and greatest of everything because I don’t answer calls like they do. It doesn’t matter, because I have a dog in the backseat.
Dogs are magic. (When) you can’t smell a thing, but the dog immediately finds something. When you smell pizza, you smell pizza, but when a dog smells pizza ... they smell all the ingredients separately. So when people try to hide drugs, it doesn’t work because a dog smells everything separate.
Rowdy’s what gets some people to talk to me, an officer. It opens that door, makes me more approachable and opens a line of communication.
Dogs are social magnets for people. I took him to a little girl with Autism, one time, who had taken off from her mom and the officers couldn’t get her to go with them. We found her, and she was getting very agitated, but I told her I had a dog. I got her over to the car, showed her Rowdy, let her pet Rowdy, and she calmed down and was able to tell us where she lived. It was amazing what that dog did for that situation. He is one-of-a-kind, and that’s why I didn’t want to continue as a handler.”
What day did he retire?
“Jan. 17.”
Right after that, you were back on patrol?
“Yep.”
What was that like?
“Tough. It’s very tough. I’m glad that I’m not driving a Crown Vic, because there’s something about being in the same type of car that constantly reminds you that he’s not there. I don’t expect to turn around and see him. But when I stop at the gas pumps, sometimes I reach for the handle to let him out, then remember he’s not there.
But in my truck (off duty), he’s with me all the time. He rides shotgun. He’s my buddy.”
How’s he doing now? Because I know he still wants to go to work with you.
“It broke my heart the first day on patrol. He caught a glimpse of me leaving in uniform and I could hear him head-butting and whining. I was moping. It was bad the first day. And the second. And part of the third.
On the second day, he tried to get up in (my truck) and I stopped him, so he just peed on the front tire. [Laughs] He gave me a look and just lifted his leg.”
It’s just you and Rowdy at home?
“And Lucy, my donkey. Lucy and Rowdy run up and down the fence together. They’re buddies.”
And lastly, if people see you and Rowdy out for a walk or in your truck, what should they do?
“Stop and say hi! He retired from his job, not from his life. And neither did I.”
(Fort Worth Star Telegram - Feb 18, 2015)
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