THERE’S A MAN WITH A GUN OVER THERE, TELLIN’ ME…ETC.
Nancy Bidwell of Scentsy Place, lost her drug dog to a brutal attacker – after she had trained the animal by an agreement with the Sheriff
FIRST IN A SERIES ABOUT DRUG TERROR IN OUR LIVES
Aquilla, Texas – It starts when you’re always afraid. A major adjustment comes when you forget that you are, and just accept your feelings for the way things always will be.
Terror is real. You can feel it in your suddenly sour mouth, the hair on the back of your neck, deep in your bowels.
It’s an element of war, one only experienced under the extreme duress of combat and the organized violence of a nation state hell bent on visiting destruction on that of another for the sole purpose of enforcing its political will on the people so declared enemies.
Ask Nancy Bidwell. She knows.
Over a period of 37 years, her occupation has grown in importance, she says. It’s taken her far away, to places she once only imagined.
When Dub-yah parked the big plane at Texas State Technical and choppered by Marine One to the ranch at Crawford, her number one priority was to see that the aircraft and all the rolling stock was free from explosives.
She spent the weekend getting an arena in Dallas ready for a performance by Lady Antebellum.
In the early days after she emigrated from Canada, she spent a lot of time making sure dormitories, schools, and industrial locations were drug-free.
And she trains dogs – dogs for the blind, dogs for drug and explosives detection, and dogs for all forms of security tasks.
We the People have lived with the psychological stress of the threat of terror for so long, now, it’s become second nature. Hearing that your government is making war on drugs, war on poverty, war on illiteracy – literally war on anything deemed less than desirable will condition a soul to a higher realization, one that is unspoken, but perceived.
Our government is busy making war on We The People; its officials both major and minor, from the ranks of both the higher arcana the purely numerical, spend a lot of their time involved in just that – and that alone.
So when the McLennan County Sheriff’s Office decided to hire a new K9 handler and needed a new dog to handle drug and explosives detection, she didn’t see anything particularly unusual about it. She just went to work conditioning an animal with the ability to sniff a pot of Irish stew and readily discern every element of the recipe, including the herbs and spices, vegetables and meat, potatoes and peppers, instead of the one amalgamated aroma of Irish stew as available to the human nose.
Some say she generated an invoice for the purchase; others are very sure there was a purchase order and a firm price, to be matched by a grant established for law enforcement purposes – such as combatting human trafficking.
But after what happened to the dog, no one is quite so sure, now, how all that shook out.
Bill Helton of the Treasurer’s Office checked with Accounts Payable and said they can find no invoice or any other instrument that shows there was a payment due for a K9.
This is what remains. And it seems to be common knowledge among the cognoscenti of affairs of the badge.
Someone came to Scentsy Place and killed Nancy Bidwell’s dog, the one she had trained for the new hire at the Sheriff’s Office.
The killing was done in a very bizarre way.
Somehow, the entire throat, mouth, and what serves as a larynx and in a canine, the windpipe and esophagus – all of that was frozen solid by some sort of very cold, pressurized gas, such a a carbon dioxide fire extinguisher, or maybe a can of freon used to charge refrigeration systems.
“It could only have been done by someone in the police,” she said.
She declined to say how she knows that.
“She was beautiful,” recalled Nancy Bidwell.
That’s what remains.
It’s not very pretty to look at it.
So mote it be.