Mattie Goes To Jail

“ Hello, this is Officer Lokato calling for Ron Schmidt.”

My mind raced. Did my wife Meg finally get caught for 142 mph on her BMW R1100S motorcycle? Was my daughter Melaney being detained for “speeds in excess of 100 mph” crossing Arizona on her way back to LA? Why would Officer Lokato be calling me on my cell phone?

“Yes Sir, this is Ron. What can I do for you?”

“Do you own a dog named Mattie, a black Lab mix?”

Oh, God! No! Was Mattie hurt? Where was she?

“Yes, she is my dog. Why are you calling?”

“She is in my truck, on the way to the pound. You need to pick her up there before 5:30 pm.”

“What, why do you have her?”

“She was found lying on the lawn on South Commerce Park Drive, unleashed. We have a leash law in Salt Lake County and she was in violation.”

“So, Mr. Lokato, you picked up my dog on our business property because she was laying in the afternoon sun. You can turn your truck around right now and bring my dog back, or I will call the cops and have you arrested for stealing her!”

“Sir, my name is Officer Lokato, and your dog has broken the law. If you are not here to pick her up by 5:30 there will be additional charges for an overnight stay.”

“Officer? Lokato! You are a dog catcher!” After I said that I realized that Lokato and I were probably not going to be having a beer and chuckling over this later that evening.

OK, so it was 3:00pm and I had no car at the shop. Meg had dropped Mattie off that morning and took the car to her work, about 8 miles south of my shop. So, I got on my motorcycle to ride to Meg’s office, pick up her car, drive the 18 miles north to where the dog jail was, pick up the alleged criminal, return the car to Meg and then ride back to work. Ugg.

I called the customer who’s bike I was working on and told him I had a “family emergency” and that he would have to wait until the next day to pick up his bike. Here in Utah, the “family emergency” excuse is always accepted and never questioned, so I knew at least that part of this fiasco was attended to.

Of course, being Friday afternoon, there were 2 crashes on the I-15 south, so the 8 miles to Meg’s work took 30 minutes. The radio in Meg’s car told me that the I-15 north from there to doggie jail was at a standstill, so I drove the entire way on State Street, which took over an hour. Her supercharged Mercedes averaged nearly 10 mph for the last 90 minutes. Good thing we got the high- powered option!

The line at doggy jail was long. The people there were all downhearted as they retrieved their offenders. The guy behind me was bailing out his cat, also a violator of the leash law, also apprehended by Officer Lokato. The dangerous Tabby was in his own front yard and the good officer had to open a gate to get to the cat. But, we can all be glad our children are safe and the fine laws of the land are being upheld.

After a 30-minute wait I was finally at the front of the line. My spirits soared, as I knew Mattie’s release was only moments and a few hundred dollars away.

“What cage is your dog in?” asked the lady behind the thick Plexiglas window. I noticed the thick plate earlier, but just at that moment did I realize why it was there; to protect the people behind it from the irate people picking up their animals.

“I don’t know. Your Officer Lokato just brought her in. She’s a little black lab mix with a red collar with her name, my name, and my cell phone number on a bright red tag.”

“Sir, you have to go back into the kennels and find your dog, then tell me what cage she is in. Don’t you know the procedure here?”

“Well, actually, no, I don’t know your procedures here. You see, Mattie has never been a criminal before. She has been seen with a German Shepard of dubious background lately, but I never thought it would go this far. I guess I just did not want to see the warning signs of a good dog going bad because I love her so. I feel I have failed as a dog owner; please forgive me. But, for the sake of decency, don’t take it out on the poor, misled dog!”

“Go find your dog, then get back in line, sir” she said, her voice completely flat and devoid of human quality.

As I left to go find Mattie, I noticed that the line was out of the door now, with the “after work” folks bailing out their furry felons. Mattie was in cage 21, looking very confused as to why and how she got there. In her view, she was just lying on the lawn; some guy asked her if she wanted to go for a ride and the next thing she was there with all those common animals. The dog next to her tried to convert her to Christianity; the one behind her was helping her sharpen her skills as a street-smart wanderer. The prison experience does start rapidly as new participants arrive.

I walked back into the front office area and found that the people who were outside the door were being told to go home; the pound was closed for the day. Luckily, due to the amazing efficiency of the people in the office, the cat owner behind me had not been able to get to the Plexiglas window yet. In a gesture of goodwill shared by owners of wrong doing critters, he allowed me to get back in the line in front of him.

“Mattie is in cage number 21.” I told the expressionless woman, who I just realized was in a cage of her own.

“Owners name and address.”

I gave her the data.

“We do not show a registered dog at that address or under that name. Is she registered?”

“I guess so. We adopted her from the Humane Society. She must be registered. We had to fill out more forms for her adoption that we did when we purchased our home. Surely one of those must have been a registration. She has tags on her collar!”

“The Humane Society does not register dogs; it is your responsibility as the dog’s owner to know the laws. You will have to pay for registration from the date of the adoption until today, with penalties, before you can get Mattie back. Date of Adoption?”

“Oh, just yesterday, as a matter of fact.” I lied, knowing that the Humane Society closed about ½ hour ago and they could not be reached for verification.

“Soooo, your bill breaks down as follows: First time offender pick up fee: $96.00. Penalty: waved. Kennel fee: $196.75. Registration fee: $47.25. Would you like to sign up for our Frequent Violators Program? It will save you 10% on future visits. The fee to join is only $55.00 per year and if you do not use it for a full year we will refund ½. It is a great deal. And since Officer Lokato, our biggest revenue producer, has been transferred to your neighborhood, the projected savings to you is, wait a second as my computer figures this, oh, is $1432.75 in the next year alone.” she said, finally with some emotion in her voice.

I declined the great offer and paid the bill. Moments later a genuinely cheery lady from the back came out with Mattie on a leash. She told me that she had to walk Mattie all the way to the car and put her in; it was a rule from the Animal Control handbook that had to be followed. Her name was Joy. She was very friendly and told me she was the only Joy at the Animal Control Center. I certainly had to agree!