How NOT to treat your people: A lesson in Police Supervision.

I alluded to something being wrong at work that coincided with the tragic death of my sweet Lucky yesterday. Well, here it is - pretty much the whole story. Rather than repeat it, I will attach the email that I just sent to my departments Command Staff. I have been disappointed by law enforcement supervision many times over the years....but nothing that stings quite as badly as this recent slight.

Staff -

I feel compelled to write this, to engage each of you in what I hope to be an enlightening albeit unfortunate conversation. Please do not mistake my candor for disrespect, but take it to heart and understand that this is a very difficult email for me to write.

I have worked at PPD for 15 years now. I have 10 years left to go until retirement, and I still love this career as much as the day I started. What I do not love is the unnecessary drama and turmoil that is so prevalent at PPD. The ego's, the micromanaging, the inability to treat each other well and with genuine compassion for one another. It is no surprise to anyone who works there that over 20 people are in backgrounds with other agencies. That fact alone speaks volumes. Over the past few months we have all witnessed coworkers behaving in ways that are less than stellar. The gossiping, the infighting, the breakdown in morale, the letters to the Star News, the scandals, the IA's, it goes on and on. I have watched all of this with great sadness - sad because I know we can do better. That we should do better. And yet, the downward spiral in morale and how we treat one another has continued. I come to work happy every day. Happy to have a job I love, happy to make a difference in peoples lives, happy to be alive, and proud of my profession and those I share it with. I dedicate countless of my own hours towards furthering programs at PPD, and I do so not because I want recognition or a pat on the back - but because I care about our department and being effective in how we do policing.

As some of you may know, there was a sudden and tragic death in my family yesterday while I was at work. It was not one of my children, but rather - my beloved pet cat. I make the distinction between my children and my cat for your sake....not for mine. My pet was very much part of my family and like one of my children. For those of you who have lost a beloved pet, perhaps you will understand the analogy and my grief.

In my rush to leave work to collect his remains, I left an arrest report that had not been signed off yet. The report had already been read by Detectives the previous night and was used to obtain a search warrant. So I knew that any corrections that needed to be made would be minor. Once I had transported my cat from my home to the pet cemetery - I sent my Sgt. an email giving him my login information and requesting him to make any necessary corrections to the report. It is not uncommon for other Officers and Supervisors to make corrections to someones report when they are minor typos - it happens frequently. So I was surprised when the Sgt. called me and told me he was going to email me the report so I could make the corrections myself. I was still crying when he called, and clearly upset. I agreed to make the corrections and send them back to him before his EOW. Unfortunately I was unable to make corrections from my iPad and have no computer at home. This, coupled with my immense grief and hysteria over my cat being gutted and eaten by a coyote - forced me to have a rather large cocktail and cry myself to sleep at 5:00. I awoke at 11:00 pm to numerous missed calls, voice mails, texts and emails from this Sgt. asking for my corrected report.

I immediately contacted another Officer and asked them to please log in to my manny files and make the required corrections. The corrections were purely grammatical and a matter of style - rather than content based, and certainly not indicative of anything that would hinder the prosecution of this case. The other Officer agreed to help with the corrections, and that was the end. That is, until I made the mistake of answering a call from the Sgt. - who clearly didn't give a damn that I was at home upset and grieving the loss of a family member. I believe his exact words were, "It's just a cat- right?" He then went on to tell me he should have just "ordered me back to work - like everyone told him to do," at which point I told him exactly what I thought of him in two words or less....and hung up the phone. Still believing that the report had already been corrected, so there was no need to deal with his disgusting level of callousness.

A midnight phone call from Commander Moody and another hysterical conversation later, and now 2 graveyard Officers are being sent to my house with a department laptop so that I can make the corrections MYSELF. While I commend Commander Moody's ability to calmly talk to a hysterical person - I am beyond disappointed that she hadn't even bothered to read the report and corrections in question. I'm not sure the Lt. in charge had either, instead they relied solely on the Sgt's ridiculous and baseless assertion that this case wasn't going to get filed unless these corrections were made. Perhaps I'm the only one who realizes this was more a case of some Sgt's ego getting hurt when I didn't do exactly what he said....rather than the picture that is being painted of me as some irresponsible insubordinate Officer who wantonly jeopardized a critical investigation. The notion that I would ever allow a child molester to go free because of an oversight on my part is both insulting and offensive. I worked juvenile sex crimes for nearly 4 years and am well aware of what is needed to file a case. My report was well written and complete and would stand up in court without any issues. The arrest report aside, the reason I left to go home and was unavailable, was because of the sudden and tragic loss of a family member. What id it HAD been one of my children who was killed? Ir what if I was incapacitated due to an accident or injury? Would you have taken the same course of action then? I doubt it. At least I hope not.

So an A-car was taken out of service and sent to my house at 0230 hrs., so I could make some minor style and grammatical corrections to an otherwise complete report. It took about 5 minutes to do, yet the toll on my emotions will last indefinitely. That no one in the Chain of Command thought to question the course of action that was taken leaves me feeling completely disenchanted, hurt and disappointed in everyone involved. I reached out to several people today, and have heard nothing back. Which again, is hurtful and disappointing. Things can always be done better, but when it comes to blatantly being cruel and the callous disregard for ones feelings - that is where I draw the line.

I have always imagined PPD as my home, and looked forward to the next 10 years there. But I can not stomach this brand of "Supervision" in a job that is difficult enough as it is. I feel that the time has come for me to move on to an employer who values my skills and my dedication to the job, and who treats their people with dignity, respect and compassion. I do not know where I will be going, but I will be actively looking elsewhere for employment beginning today. I hope that you all think about this incident and learn from it. Surely there are better ways to treat people....you just need to be willing to do it.

Sincerely,

Shannon Reece

May 18, 2015. My beloved Lucky kitty is gone.

I got the call while I was at work.

I thought it might be about Lucky because he hadn't come home the night before. I was late getting home from work due to the arrest of a child molester, so when I pulled into my complex at 0230 I expected to see him waiting for me. He always hung around the driveway at 0130...and would sometimes follow my car in when I got home. He was a good boy, who loved his Mommy. But when I got out of the car and walked towards my condo I didn't see him. I called for him, but nothing. I was so tired from working overtime the past 2 days I just wanted to collapse, so I didn't go looking for him. I will forever regret that decision.

When I woke up at 0900, there was no Lucky kitty in my bed. I immediately felt the absence of his weight at my feet...because my little beasty always sprawled out across my bed. So much so that I couldn't even move my legs when he was asleep in "his spot." So when I woke up and there was no Lucky....I got immediately got worried. I tried to quell my panic by thinking maybe he was out playing or someone had kept him inside their own house last night. He was such a lover that everyone liked him and wanted to play with him. So I got up, busied myself with cleaning up after Crazy Belle...and left for work. I texted my next door neighbor Shirley to let her know Lucky was MIA, and asked her to keep an eye out for him. She loves him too, so she went out walking around calling for him..but no Lucky. I called Shirley from work at 1245 and she said she couldn't find him. I told her when he turned up to lock his little butt in the house until I got home. Such is the way with outdoor kitties....they roam, but they always come back home. Except this time.

When I answered the phone call from a 714 area code, I figured someone had found my Lucky. He had probably gotten lost and someone was calling to tell me where he was. Well, that was partially true. The man asked me if I owned a cat named Lucky? I immediately said, "yes, is he ok?" "Well, no....he's...well, oh god...um, a coyote got him." I knew from the tone in the mans voice Lucky was gone. He told me I didn't want to see Lucky how he was now....that it was pretty bad. But I've seen horrible things, and this was my baby. I had to go get him. I asked the man to cover him, which he already had, and I immediately left work to head home. Lucky was killed only a few condos over from our house, in a grassy greenbelt area near the man who called me's condo.

I cried my eyes out the whole way home, still in uniform and reeling from the suddeness of it all. I should have went looking for him....I should have kept him inside....wondering if he was in pieces like other cats I had seen who were killed by Coyotes. The man said it was BAD...that I didn't want to see him like this. I hoped that I could at least recognize my little buddy, and say goodbye. When I got there I parked and started walking towards the greenbelt area. The man had covered Lucky with a red towel. I knew his body was under the towel when I saw it, I just knew. So I walked over, crouched down, and uncovered my baby boy. There he was, his head, arms and legs all still intact, looking like my sweet sleeping boy....save for the hollowed out empty hole where his body had been. The coyotes gutted my baby and ate him....but they spared his face and feets, and for that I was grateful. The man who called me walked over and thought I was an animal control officer because of my uniform. He told me he had already called the owner of the cat. I told him through tears that I was the owner, I just came from work and was a police Officer. He was choked up too. Turns out he has a cat of his own, and knew my Lucky because he would come around the mans patio where he kept catnip. My Lucky was always such a sweet natured boy. He was more person than cat sometimes. I told the man I would be back to collect Lucky in a few minutes...and he handed me his collar which he had removed. It was all a blur....like a bad dream...

When I got to my house Shirley came out and was crying, she lost a cat to Coyotes before and understads. Pets are our family members, the loss feels the same if not worse. I borrowed a box from her to put Lucky in and walked back to where his body was. As I walked up another neighbor lady was outside, in front of her home. She was upset and crying too. Told me another neighbor had heard the fight at 0230 and knew it was a bad one. 0230....just when I was getting home. An hour late. Had I only gone looking for him....maybe....

The man asked me if I wanted gloves to pick him up. I told him no, I didn't need gloves....I've touched worse things at work...and this was my boy. I wrapped Lucky in the towel and carefully picked up my baby boy for the very last time. I placed him in the box so that I could see his little face and paws, but kept his unjuries covered. Aside from the horrible ants on him, he still looked like my little buddy. When we got back to the house I spent a few minutes stroking his little face and feet, wiping away the stupid ants, and telling him how sorry I was that Mommy wasn't home in time. The grief I feel is filled with guilt and regret....If only i'd have been there in time.

I took Lucky to the Seabreeze Pet Cemetary to have him cremated. He didn't like bugs and the thought of ants and bugs all over him didn't sit well with me. So I will keep his ashes in an urn and he will be a part of me always. The sweet boy who I saved from the freeway.....who then saved me from sadness and depression. I hope there is a Rainbow Bridge...and Lucky is waiting for me there someday. He was the best kitty ever.