I AM BACK BOOYAH!!

I posted this on an ACO forum I belong to. It was written for people who do what I do so please let me know if you do not understand anything.



I'M BACK!!! BOOYAH!!
After getting the snot bit out of me I was scared and nervous when it came to dogs. Yeah, me, Sammy. The one who will run into a building with a known murder inside, or would attempt to save the residents of a house that as on fire. I was scared. But I knew that I needed to get over that fear or I would never EVER get over it.

It started about a month and a half ago when I was asked to assist another officer with a bite dog at large. Two things freaked me out about it. One which I knew right away was it was on the reservation. If you have never encountered a "rez dog" just imagine a small sized wolf. They are feral and aggressive. I took a deep breath and headed to the call. The second thing that freaked me out about the call which I did not know about until I was on scene was it was another mother pit bull. Sh*t. I said to myself "I have got to do this, this dog has bit a kid and may bite again." Did a beeline to the dog and caught her and her pups. I was so buzzed and amped from the adrenaline pumping through my veins I could hardily steady my hand to fill out the stray cards. YEAH!!!

Next happened on my Monday this week. I get a call for a meet up with Phoenix PD. I did not have a lot of info except that PD wanted me there. When I arrive on scene PD calls dispatch and states they will not be going out and that is when I find out it is a bite. I spoke to a victim and find out that I have two victims from the same dog. As I was speaking to the victims they start pointing while running and as they damn near jumped over the fence to their backyard yelling "THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!"

I look down the alley of the call and see a beautiful tan pit bull with a 10 foot chain attached to a white leather harness with spikes. Now I know you are asking yourself, "Sam, how can you call a dog beautiful when it is a bite dog and mean as hell?" Because he was. He could have been a AKC champ! Perfect specimen of what a American "pit bull" should look like. Anyway, since this part of town is... ghetto the alley is dirty, piled with old washing machines and toilets, several chihuahua's running loose and my bite dog. Some pits are animal aggressive and I am 99% sure he is. As my victims run away I run into the danger. I slalom around Chihuahuas and toilets and run at him. He charges me and I just miss him with my snare resulting in a smack to the face. Hitting him in the face freaks him out and bolts down the alley. I follow him into his own yard and at that the DO comes out scared out of her mind seeing "police" in her yard and her dog running loose. The dog sees his owner and lunges at me again. I got him that time but wow what a fight! he was all muscle and a fraking chihuahua followed me so he was pissed off! I could not drag him through the alley to my truck because there was to many dogs running loose and it worries me to drag him through there. While calling for back up to assist me he pulls the same move... I repeat SAME move that got me bit and almost nails me on my scars. I moved my leg and wipe out my ASP. The DO screamed and asked if I was OK. OH YEAH!! I got my dog, my owner, and fought the fear! Later one of the victims was really thankful for me and praised me how big my b@lls were running after that dog.

Then I met my match tonight. Wow. After everything cools off with this call I will post the video of the dog as we tried to get him out of the truck. Any who, it was an area check for "a brown dog sitting in the yard of the caller". No other info. I just started my dinner and since 75% of the time the dog is long gone when it comes to an area check I use this call to enjoy my chicken sammich. I go 10-6 and turn on to the street.... damn.... There is my dog. A large brown Chow mix chillin in the yard. I get out and the chow starts backing up and just slips by me snapping at me and trots down the street to the next house. I notice the yard has a large fence around about 3/4's of the yard. Got him. I run over to the yard and get him cornered against the front door. When I try to get the snare around him he does the paw trick and pulls the loop down. I fight with him for close to a minute and finally get him. He is bleeding all over the place and is rolling. It took honestly about 3 minutes to get him back to my truck only one house north. It was by far the BEST fight I have ever had with a dog. The neighborhood was all up in arms because I caught him. whatever... They are all trying to tell me he is a great dog, never hurt anybody just like always with aggressive dogs at large. After I got him and went 10-8 it dawned on me that I did not even have a glint of fear. Not a wink not a thread not a smidgen of a thought about the dog that bit me. Wow. I did it. I over came my fear of dogs.

Afterward it took three ACO's to handle the chow and get him out of the truck. He knew all the tricks and almost out smarted us. But I have learned from getting bit. I will survive to fight again and never ever under estimate any dog no matter what.

Cheers, Hot Tomato

Living in the moment

I wrote this on Thanksgiving but did not know how to finish it. Well, I finally did after two more holidays and a few weeks at work. I hope you enjoy it.

Cheers, S. VonBrandt


Living in the Moment

I like dogs better then most people. After working in an industry where I deal with both that has reinforced that thinking. Dogs don’t lie, people do. I have been out of books to read lately so I pulled a book I had bought a while before I began working in Animal Control. The book is called “Cesar’s Way” by the Dog Whisper Cesar Millan. I know quite a few ACO’s and dog trainers do not like him but I really respect him. The reason is he has taught me how to be “alpha”. You can see by watching the show and watching him in action he knows dogs and how they work. If you try a few of his techniques you can see what he speaks is the truth.

One of the things he talks about over and over and OVER (because people are stupid need to be told 100 times something till they understand) is that dogs live in the moment. When they go for a walk they are there to walk. Enjoying the cool air, looking at the birds and eating the left over quesadilla on the ground. Dogs are not thinking about what happened before, soon or what will not. After reading about this living in the moment thing I pondered this while falling asleep. What I pondered was; we as humans just don’t do it. We all think about the bills we owe, the car needing air in the tires. “Hey sweetie? Where are the damn keys to the shed? I can’t remember where I put em’.” What does living in the moment really mean? Let me till you boys and girls, I had on of those rare moments where I did nothing, thought nothing was nothing but that moment.


This morning of spending the day with family and loved ones around the dinner table eating the blessed turkey and pumpkin pie I was thinking that the scooters needed a good ride. All three of them have been sitting there a while and all engines need to be run every now and then. After firing them all up and hearing the roar of the tiny engines I just had to ride. It was raining so I took the Majesty due to the fact I have put over 17600 miles on her and I was really comfortable with her. I grabbed my gear and headed out. I took my usual path along Rio Salado drive to the Mill Avenue Bridge then along Galvin Parkway past the Zoo and over the hill on McDowell. I then turn around and do it again. As I was turning right on Galvin Parkway I was looking at the Popago Hills and thought about how much I loved how the clouds hung low and appeared to hug the red-brown rocks. How the rain clouds hid Camelback Mountain and made the park appear to be floating in the sky like my own personal heaven. The chill crept into my soul calming the worried wart that is Samantha. The mist was spraying up from the rubber and soaking my helmet making the world around me appear to be full of bubbles. The feeling of the bike and I as one when I twist the throttle and lean in to the curve, the way the padding feels in my gloves and how it feels on the palms of my hands. The way the flying water just kisses my boots. As I turn to go on McDowell over the hill I felt one with my bike and the mountain. Nothing could bother me. And thinking about that and only that made for the best ride I ever had.

When I got home I thought about the ride. The feeling I will forever cherish I can’t help but think how lucky our dogs are. They get to feel like this everyday. We could learn a lot from out pets, the only living things that do not lie to us, love you no matter what. Dogs don’t care what kind of car you drive or how much money you have. What do you do for a living? Leloo doesn’t care nor Boudica. They only care about life and what they can experience in that life with you. Next time your home and your dog is begging to go for a walk, do yourself a favor and go.


Cheers, Hot Tomato

The terror at my ankles

This event happened a while ago. I love dogs but do not trust small dogs. They are difficult to read. For every pit bull bite you read about you don't read about the 20 small dog bites. Anywho enjoy the blog. I hope you laugh out loud in the office and everyone turns and stares at you.



I was responding to a call of a confined stray dog a few weeks ago. While I was turning on the street near the call I saw a medium sized white dog and two small dogs walking along the sidewalk. I turned my spotlight on them and I saw that the two small dogs were Chihuahua’s. Ah crap….. I hate Chihuahua’s. As I was watching the dogs run around enjoying their evening out. I saw a dog owner run over and gather the dogs up. I thought I would pull over and let her know about the leash law, not call in for a DR number or even do a license check. Just a reminder that’s it’s illegal for dogs to be running loose. As I approach I kept the flashlight on the dog owner and keeping an eye out for the dogs. I don’t trust Chihuahua’s. Shifty wee buggers they are. As I am about the talk to the dog owner I see a movement in the grass and as instinct I move my flashlight over to see what it is. OH DEAR JESUS OUR LORD IN HEAVEN! A see about 200 Chihuahua’s come running at me….. Really though, it was 9 but they multiply like zombies, one bit and you become an overgrown barking rat. So they see fresh meat and start running at me. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Panic mode sets in but I need to stay in the combat frame of mind and keep my cool. If I panic I won’t be able to get away or be able to use physical force to protect myself or any other person within the reach of the itty bitty zombies. I take a deep breath as a step away. The little ankle biter’s since my fear and begin circling me attempting to flank me. Their goal is taking out the evil dogcatcher. Oh man, now what? They never taught me how to deal with this in the Academy. So I told the dog owner “if one of these dogs bites me I am going to be very upset”. Very upset equals lots of tickets. She try’s to corral them as the sweat starts to roll down my back collecting in a pool seasoning me for the land sharks. I lift my feet and hop around from foot to foot trying to confuse them and get away fully intact with all my body parts. The dog owner is struggling with the vicious tiny Mexican dogs when I use my Jedi mind trick; I wave my hand and tell the dogs to “go inside, you do not want to eat me.” The dog owner was still trying to capture two of the meanest dogs while I kept hopping around and praying over and over “Oh lord, please let me get out of this alive and I promise I will never-ever-talk-bad-about-these-horrible-little-creatures-that-haunt-me-in-my-worst-nightmares-and-threaten-to-kick-a-field-goal-with-them-anytime-I-see-them.” Finally after 5 of the worst hours of my life, (OK 2 minutes, but again remember “zombies!”) the dog owner collects her dogs and I finish the call….. Whew. I made it.

I hope you enjoyed another adventure of your local dogcatcher.

Cheers, Hot Tomato

Why my job rocks

I am working in the northwest area of Phoenix and I get a call called a "45". A 45 is an emergency call either with police or fire. Sometimes even another agency like Humane Society or another animal control department. So I was about to start a confined call when I get a 45 in sunnyslope. Well, two thoughts ran trough my head; they busted a bunch of squatters or just arrested some meth heads and either group had a dog I need to get. Well, I was wrong, a stray dog was living there and he ran under the house. I arrive and met with Phoenix PD and I asked what was going on. They said the house was full of transits and a dog with a possible broken leg is in the house. I check out the situation and follow the PD officer through the house, which is full of half eaten food, trash and evidence of people and animals living here. Though to be honest it was hard to tell the difference. I knew I was getting close to the dog because PD let me lead ?. I walk down the stairs and onto a "kinda" basement. It was a hole under the house and basically is just dirt and 2X4's that at first glance were not nailed. My guess proved accurate, but you will see later in the story.


I see the suspect K9 crammed into the far corner of the basement and his was barking and growling. Damn it, I need my snare.

I walk back to the truck, grab my gloves, my favorite tool (a four foot piece of conduit with a massive rubber V belt attached and covered with electoral tape) and head back to the house. I walk back down stairs into the man made cave and proceed to do my job. Now you have to understand two things that concerned me. One, dogs trapped with no escape bite and charge. Another is, PD is afraid of dogs and even if he wasn't there really is no way for him to save me if the dog attacked. He might hit me with the tazer or bullet instead of the dog. Taking a deep breath, removing my duty belt and handing it to PD, I advised him if he charges, save my ass and please keep the flashlight on the dog.

I am crawling on my belly through the dirt under a house with no clearance or escape, to catch a scared and hurt animal that would rather maul me then let me pet it. As I approach the dog he bits the shit out of my snare and he lunges s for me. I whack him with the tip for my snare and push him back into his hole. I have to get closer and glad I have been running at night because old officer 493 could never fit in there…?. I fight to get the snare around him for about a minute and finally get it, tighten the belt and prey he pulls back away from me only because I have no way to protect myself if he decides to lunge.

I start to take him back the way I came slowly pulling him while sliding down the dirt mound. He was not having it! He took off to the right and the snare hit a 2X4, which was knocked loose. Shit. This entire "basement" has no stable support. This changes things quite a bit. I had to change my way of getting out so I crawl farther in and straight to the right. I pull the bugger out and the dust is starting to get thick. I can't see, worried the whole house will fall on me, the dog moving quickly and biting me, PD getting nervous and shooting and no not knowing where I was slithering down to. I finally got the dog out and saw just how bad his leg really was. It looks like he was shot and he would not let me go anywhere near it. I pulled him to my truck and tossed him in. Finally able to breath and smile I think I LOVE MY JOB!!!!

Cheers, Hot Tomato

I was almost killed twice in a matter of 45 seconds

Hey drivers! Watch out for motorcycles you fucking cunts! On the way home from a movie with Brannon I was cruising on the Stella. A black pimped Honda with an exhaust nose maker was in the left hand turn lane on the other side of the street. While I was passing through the intersection he turn in front of me. I had to squeeze the breaks and clutch, to avoid slamming into his passenger side. Fucker. Then less then a minute later a red small car full of college girls, loud and chatting, was sitting at the intersection in the left hand turn lane. The light was about to change when she decided that she wanted to go straight instead of left. Pulling out into my lane I had to do some hot shot riding to not hit her rear quarter panel. I had to change lanes VERY fast and then again stop quickly so I did not run the red and risk getting hit again. With almost getting killed AGAIN I was not a happy camper. I cussed her out and threw the cooks gang signs. I was almost ready to hop off the bike and kick the shit out of her. As I was flipping her off and calling her every derogatory term I could think off, she realized that she almost hit me. The car was quiet and she did not pull up to the light...she could not face me. Fucking WHORE! Watch out for bikes! How would you explain to my husband, family and friends that you just needed to change lanes or were texting a friend and just did not see me? Huh? Cheers, Hot Tomato

A day in the life of a cook part 4

Stupid questions and habits of culinary customers


We all have stupid customers in our places of business and when you faced with this we have no choice but to stare at them and wonder how they where able to put there pants on in the morning with there mom helping them. I touched on this subject in a previous blog but as always the stupid breed like asexual organisms and have left me no choice but to vent about them in a blog before my head explodes. Since I have moved into a position of higher public exposure I have been assaulted with the most ignorant and plain annoying habits and questions then ever before. Now I understand most people do not know how to cook let alone in a professional kitchen but the people I am exposing, are WAY below the average intelligence level regarding food. I have served and cooked for some of the most powerful and influential people in the valley, but even if they designed the BOB (chase field) or did the fist ever facial transplant they don’t know that caesar dressing comes in the caesar wrap. OK then here we go to another trip through Sammy’s world of culinary adventures and maybe you can see why cooks sometimes have anger issues and drinking problems.


Annoying habits,

Everyone always assumes that because you cook you love to talk about cooking and it is your passion They see the over paid cooks on TV talking about it and they see culinary school ads on late night talking you that YOU ARE PASSIONITE IF YOU ARE A CHEF. No. I am a cook because I am good at it and I dig the lifestyle. I am a glutton for pain and I have a fucked up desire to feel needed, plus manic when it comes to organization. These are all traits for a great line cook. My passion is NOT food. I don’t eat out much anymore and perfectly happy with a bowl of brown rice for dinner. I don’t read the magazines and I don’t have “wet” dreams about the perfect cut of monkfish. It is what I do and nothing else. Yes I do like it but I would be happier traveling or writing all day. So don’t start asking me questions regarding the next local hot spot because I know it and don’t give a fuck. Don’t ask where I ate while on vacation because I don’t go for the food, I go for the whole “traveling” part.

While I am pushing a cart full of food to a location for a party, don’t ask for the food because it does not belong to you. Do not start grabbing at it like a bunch of little kids at Halloween or make stupid lame attempts to coax the food in your direction. What do I look like a 747? Waving your arms towards your desk and whispering at me “just leave it here” DOES NOT WORK give it up, it is not funny.
While I am cleaning up the party don’t fucking start grabbing all the leftovers and putting them in your pockets. I know for a fact that the valets for the dealerships make 20$ and hour, if you selling BMW’s I wager to say you are making $100,000 a year. You can afford to eat regular food, stop attacking me and my servers for scraps of half day old ham and bread so stale it starting to curl in to a bowl shape. Plus the food was in the break room for and hour before I could get to it, why are you assaulting me now?


“So, what’s good here?” Why do you ask me that? Especially when I give the a different answer the routine “everything” which is part of the whole ordering lunch ritual and you don’t even take my advise. You asked me and now you don’t what it? Fuck off, you just wasted a minute of my life that I can’t get back because you wanted to say no to somebody.

Talking on your cell phone while trying to order food, knock it off a-hole. Step out of line or tell the person you are busy and will call them back.

Arguing about the price of the menu idem will only piss off your server and your cooks. We are not at a flea market and we do not negotiate prices on the menu. Changing what goes on your burger does not cast it to become cheaper. “I don’t like tomatoes or onions, can I just pay for the meat and bun?” You may end up with old and tired pork chop lying on top of the trash in the bin instead of the fresh and juicy one Alberto just pulled off the grill. Don’t piss off the people who handle your food.

Stupid questions

When you see me in my whites (chef coat and pants) don’t ask “Are you a chef?” Nope I am a rookie hit man that is why I am dressed in all white and walking around you. I’m not to good at hiding yet but still good at killing…. Yes you dumb fuck, I am chef. You don’t see a man is scrubs and ask “Are you a doctor?” Yes he is. The same goes for a guy in cover alls with greasy hands. “Are you a mechanic?” You suck.

“What is your specialty?” Beating the shit out of people who ask stupid questions, you’re in luck today my friend. You have a pro at your hands. I don’t have one because I have cooked too long yet not long enough. There is no such thing as specialties in the cooking world. Some people are better at certain foods then others but you can’t make a living off of a specialty. If I made the best filet in the valley but could not make soup nobody would hire me. I found people ask this so they could flunt there own cooking skills. “Oh yeah? Well, I make a mean turkey roulade that all my friends really love.” Guess what homie, I DON’T FUCKING CARE!! I am not your friend nor do I like you and I garnintee your friends have a palet like a dog.

“What do you like to cook?” I don’t like to cook anything. I have to cook several things and none is my favorite. What is you favorite thing to do at work? Answer e-mails or stock shelves? Maybe it is sucking up to the boss or trying to be better then the cock next to you in his office cage called a cubical so you get a better parking spot you “employee of the month”. The question is starting to seem really stupid to you now isn’t it. It sounds just like that when you ask me. IT IS A JOB! I don’t have a favorite part except it is time to go home. Though I do get off when everything is coming out perfect and the food tastes better then ever. When my line cooks are pumping out the food quicker and better each time and when I see people coming back again and again. But again I would be happier just watching Arsenal kick some Manny U ass live in London.

“Can I have the beef stew without the beef?” Que? Yes boys and girls I have had this question along with several other mindless questions. No you fucking sheep, move along but please be careful to not hurt yourself with that plastic spoon. When you order ”custom” food and change the menu to suit you, you not only slow down the kitchen, the servers, and the customers, but you look like a grade A asshole who is very picky and like to make everyone’s life difficult. Try the food on the menu, it is good because people who are better then you at cooking designed it and they know what they are doing. If you don’t like onions don’t order the onion soup. Makes since but so many people have and still do this.


It seems to me after so many years, people forget basic manners and respect for their fellow human in modern society when it comes to food. If you could see people as I see people, you would know what I am talking about. Because food is a basic and mandatory thing people tend to take to their primal instances when it comes time to eat. Push their way to the front of the line, over indulge themselves when somebody else is paying for it and even forget who they are and how to treat one another. We often relate them to vultures because they hover around you with eyes wide and sharp waiting to swoop in the moment I set down the food. It is disgusting to watch, people stumbling over one another trying to stuff the faces, coming close to barking and snipping at one another. Truly lower then human we act when food is involved.

OK then, I am done venting for now but don’t worry, I will be back soon. This is only the beginning of the rants of an angry line cook and I know I won’t make a difference in the world but at least I hope to make you think twice about what you are doing at a restaurant.

Angry Chefs

Ever wonder why I am cranky when I get home from work? "How would I know" you ask? You have seen the blogs.... I write when I am upset, mad stressed, sad and the like. This could be one reason....



That is a new probe thermometer and see what temp it reads in my work station? Mind you this is just the heat without the consideration of the humidity found in kitchens. When you factor moving at earth shaking speeds and opening an closing of the oven doors that are at 500 degrees every so often you can see why when a server screws up an order, we want to smack her in the face with a soggy piece of bread.

Cheers, Hot Tomato