By Dawn’s Early Light

It took two police cars, five police officers and one excited Alsatian police dog to arrest and restrain the young man hiding in the hedges opposite my house as dawn was breaking.

What the story was, I don’t know, it was the barking of the dog and the whining / shouting of the fugitive that woke me. Quickly handcuffed, not wearing a shirt and violently drunk perhaps he put up a fight all the way into the back of a police car in Westbrook Avenue, regardless of any efforts on the part of the police officers to calm him down.

Less charitable observers might have suggested that the enthusiastic police dog should have been encouraged to chew on the softer, more southerly parts of his anatomy until he chose to cooperate but instead the police and surprised residents had to listen to his constant stream of abuse and what he planned to do to the policeman when he was released from the handcuffs.

My guess is that at least half of the police on duty in Thanet where involved in this little episode and I would dearly love to be able to put Tony Blair in the back of the police car with the young drunk and say, “Look what you’ve done with your careless plans to reform the drinking laws.” Others might prefer to hand the Prime Minister to the dog instead.

A retired policeman friend observed to me last week that when he was in the ‘job’, it was really a Police Service but called a Police Force. Today, he said, it’s the opposite. They call it a Police Service but it’s really a Police Force.


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