Kennel Security Breach!
Sep. 10th, 2007 11:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylThe ending of this story turned out to be quite different from what I expected at the beginning.
I worked the kennels Saturday night. The company has FINALLY installed a security system after a sister hospital in the area was broken into (our own break-in apparently wasn't enough to cause actual concern). It's pretty respectable: door sensors, motion sensors (when the hospital is empty, obviously), 6 cameras overlooking the yard, the parking lot, the reception area (where the money is) and Tery's office (where the controlled substances are) (and none downstairs, so braless wifebeaters are still an option). There's even a panic button I can wear around in case I need the police there immediately.
Saturday night seemed like any other night, except I had noticed some of the dogs acting strangely; sniffing the air and staring intensely at one particular dark corner of the yard. Kava, the Great Pyrenees, hunkered down at the far end and wouldn't come when I called. In the morning Beowulf, my favorite German shepherd, was uncharacteristically disobedient and wouldn't leave off sniffing at the gate leading to the parking lot and then looking at me significantly, gate, me, gate, me. I peeked nervously through the gap but didn't see anything.
After all this I was grateful indeed to leave and get started on my weekend. I was just getting ready to go to the movies (more next post) when I got a message from the Lakewood Police Department, saying the hospital had had a break-in. Oh god.
I'll summarize many different phone calls between me, Tery and the hospital. She gets called automatically whenever the alarm goes off, and the call came through at noontime. The window in the reception area had been smashed, obviously the point of entry. Going through a window by the front door in the middle of the day? That took cojones. They had waited until the morning shift left (Sundays someone just pops in to feed the dogs and then leaves again), though why they didn't do it after I left at 5 a.m. (since they'd obviously been watching my car all night) was a mystery. The police were going through the camera footage for more clues.
The thought of being watched all night thoroughly skeeved me out, understandably, I think. I again threatened to quit.
Tery called me back on my way to the theater. Her words were, "It wasn't a break-IN. It was a break-OUT." Judging from my reaction, she agreed that might not have been the best way to phrase it.
Kava, the Great Pyrenees, had gotten out of her kennel, up the stairs, and had jumped through the window. This news surprised us both, me most of all, since this is an old, lumbering dog that can barely make it up a set of stairs without passing out from exhaustion. Yet there she was on the security camera, wandering up and down the parking lot before stumbling into traffic and out of sight.
This is Kava (right) and sister Nishika
Tery delivered this news with the words, "It couldn't have happened to a worse client." The poor woman had to put Nishika to sleep a few months earlier, so was already grieving. And she already had trust issues after a different hospital had pulled all her dog's teeth without consulting her first (the dog was terrified of fireworks and had broken a few teeth trying to chew out of its cage). Tery thought it best to tell her what had happened and hope for the best.
I didn't understand then why the dogs were acting so twitchy. Tery theorized that Kava had tried to enlist Beowulf to help in her plan. "Psssst....I'm going over the wall. Tomorrow. Are you in?"
This story has a happy ending. Kava was recovered by Animal Control just two blocks away (I knew she wouldn't get far without being spotted -- she's like a grizzly bear, for heaven's sake) and brought back unharmed. We both agreed her chances might have been greatly reduced before the security system came along -- she might not have been missed for 24 whole hours. Now it just remains to be seen if the owner takes this positive outlook on the situation.
I worked the kennels Saturday night. The company has FINALLY installed a security system after a sister hospital in the area was broken into (our own break-in apparently wasn't enough to cause actual concern). It's pretty respectable: door sensors, motion sensors (when the hospital is empty, obviously), 6 cameras overlooking the yard, the parking lot, the reception area (where the money is) and Tery's office (where the controlled substances are) (and none downstairs, so braless wifebeaters are still an option). There's even a panic button I can wear around in case I need the police there immediately.
Saturday night seemed like any other night, except I had noticed some of the dogs acting strangely; sniffing the air and staring intensely at one particular dark corner of the yard. Kava, the Great Pyrenees, hunkered down at the far end and wouldn't come when I called. In the morning Beowulf, my favorite German shepherd, was uncharacteristically disobedient and wouldn't leave off sniffing at the gate leading to the parking lot and then looking at me significantly, gate, me, gate, me. I peeked nervously through the gap but didn't see anything.
After all this I was grateful indeed to leave and get started on my weekend. I was just getting ready to go to the movies (more next post) when I got a message from the Lakewood Police Department, saying the hospital had had a break-in. Oh god.
I'll summarize many different phone calls between me, Tery and the hospital. She gets called automatically whenever the alarm goes off, and the call came through at noontime. The window in the reception area had been smashed, obviously the point of entry. Going through a window by the front door in the middle of the day? That took cojones. They had waited until the morning shift left (Sundays someone just pops in to feed the dogs and then leaves again), though why they didn't do it after I left at 5 a.m. (since they'd obviously been watching my car all night) was a mystery. The police were going through the camera footage for more clues.
The thought of being watched all night thoroughly skeeved me out, understandably, I think. I again threatened to quit.
Tery called me back on my way to the theater. Her words were, "It wasn't a break-IN. It was a break-OUT." Judging from my reaction, she agreed that might not have been the best way to phrase it.
Kava, the Great Pyrenees, had gotten out of her kennel, up the stairs, and had jumped through the window. This news surprised us both, me most of all, since this is an old, lumbering dog that can barely make it up a set of stairs without passing out from exhaustion. Yet there she was on the security camera, wandering up and down the parking lot before stumbling into traffic and out of sight.
This is Kava (right) and sister Nishika
Tery delivered this news with the words, "It couldn't have happened to a worse client." The poor woman had to put Nishika to sleep a few months earlier, so was already grieving. And she already had trust issues after a different hospital had pulled all her dog's teeth without consulting her first (the dog was terrified of fireworks and had broken a few teeth trying to chew out of its cage). Tery thought it best to tell her what had happened and hope for the best.
I didn't understand then why the dogs were acting so twitchy. Tery theorized that Kava had tried to enlist Beowulf to help in her plan. "Psssst....I'm going over the wall. Tomorrow. Are you in?"
This story has a happy ending. Kava was recovered by Animal Control just two blocks away (I knew she wouldn't get far without being spotted -- she's like a grizzly bear, for heaven's sake) and brought back unharmed. We both agreed her chances might have been greatly reduced before the security system came along -- she might not have been missed for 24 whole hours. Now it just remains to be seen if the owner takes this positive outlook on the situation.
