So I'm wrapping up my second night of officially being the shift supervisor. There have been plenty of times in the past where I've stood in for the supervisor in his absence. Sarge had a vacation day or sick day, so I ran the shift. On Wednesday Sarge was moved back to a day shift, leaving me as the go-to guy for the shift. Not a stand-in supervisor, the supervisor.
Two moments stand out thus far:
Last night the shift was together, about to order up a round of late night cheeseburgers. Dispatch suddenly called my number, saying that the next town over wanted to know if we had a K-9 unit available to assist them. I asked what they needed the K-9 for. They replied that two armed suspects had just opened fire on an officer and then fled into the woods. The officer was OK - unharmed - but now they were cordoning off the woods where the two suspects had fled. They wanted the K-9 to go into the woods after the bad guys.
It was a weird mix of feelings that came flooding in after that. Given the exact same situation, if they had been asking me for my help, I would say yes and be on my way there in a heartbeat. The danger would of course be a constant reminder to be safe, but I would go without question. Those assholes needed to get caught. But they didn't want my help, they wanted my officer's help. I glanced at him across the table and he was, of course, already nodding his head to indicate he would go. I wanted to let him go just as much as I wanted to go myself, but the fact that it was my choice made me want to be damn sure I was making the right one. I held off on the approval and started asking questions. How many officers do they have out there now? How big of an area is cordoned off? Have they called for a chopper? Is there a medical crew standing by? Do they have someone that will stay with my K-9 unit while he goes through the woods?
Hmm. When did "the" K-9 become "my" K-9?
After I was reasonably assured that a small army of cops was assembling to look for the bad guys I cleared him to go. Then I sat in my car and waited for an hour. It was horrible. The tension, the anticipation, my mind running what-ifs over and over. What if he gets shot?
It's on your head. You sent him.
While waiting I of course had another officer dropping subtle hints like "I should be there helping them." Well, join the club! My response sounded straight out of Sarge's old playbook: We need adequate coverage here in our city before we can help anybody else.
Thankfully, my K-9 came back without much of a story. They walked around, didn't see anything. His call that he was returning to the city brought another new understanding of the word relief.
And then there was tonight. One of my officers told me earlier this week that she needed some training before the year is over. State law requires every officer to get at least 20 hours of training every year or they lose their arrest powers. It can be any kind of law enforcement related training, so long as it's at least 20 hours. When my shift ended yesterday morning I spent 30 minutes with the training Lieutenant figuring out scheduling and availability so I could get this officer the required training before the end of the year. We got it figured out, and I felt all happy with myself having solved the problem of someone on my shift.
I come to work tonight and let the officer know that I had it worked out. The officer tells me she had actually talked to Sergeant XYZ last night, and that Sarge had offered to get her the training she needed.
Wait a damn minute.
I could see if you went straight to the training Lieutenant with this. That would make sense. Why would you go to another shift supervisor? I almost felt like I had been cheated on. Then came the anger. Ooh you're just gonna get what you want from whatever supervisor ya can huh? I don't think so. You're going to the class I'm sending you to because this is my shift and what I say goes.
As this all played out in my head a little thought popped in there. It's something the Weirdo always says to me when I'm getting mad and loud: de-puff. Like that fish that puffs itself up. After being told to de-puff seventeen thousand times the order now apparently presents itself in my mind without the Weirdo even needing to be in the room.
So I relaxed, and figured that it doesn't matter one way or the other as long as the officer gets the required training.
So, two shifts, two nights, and I've covered both protectiveness and feeling betrayed.
Glad I've got the weekend off!
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