In the winter of 1907-1908, Prefect of Police Louis Lépine employed dog auxiliaries to patrol the lonely beats in and around Paris, France. Having the dogs patrol the lonely beats would free up human police officers to concentrate their efforts in areas with higher crime rates.
On one lonely beat along the Seine River just outside Paris, a young boy fell into the river. Unable to swim, the boy flailed in the water in panic. He was barely able to let out a yelp. Suddenly, one of the police dogs who lived nearby, a large Newfoundland dog, leaped over the hedge, plunged into the Seine, and pulled the struggling boy to safety. Everyone, especially the young boy’s father, was jubilant that the dog had saved the young boy from drowning. The crowd gathered to take turns caressing the Newfoundland hero. The boy’s father rewarded the dog with a large, juicy beefsteak. Two days later, another young boy fell into the Seine a short distance away and struggled to tread water. Again, the Newfoundland hero jumped the hedge, plunged into the Seine, and pulled the child to safety. The people rewarded the dog as they had earlier, with caresses and another large, juicy beefsteak.
The following day, another child fell into the water and the Newfoundland came to the rescue again. After this third time, police began to look more closely at the incidents. They questioned the three children separately. The first child to be rescued said he slipped and fell into the river, but the second and third child said they were pushed into the Seine. Police worried that a disturbed criminal was stalking the neighborhood and pushing children into the river so that they would drown. This same scenario happened several more times. Hardly a day went by that a child was not pushed into the river. Luckily, all were within earshot of the Newfoundland hero.
Catching this individual proved to be a difficult task. None of the children had seen who had pushed them into the river. It was normal for people to casually walked along the banks of the Seine. A uniformed policeman began patrolling the area in an attempt to catch the serial “pusher” in the act. It was obvious that the serial “pusher” was aware of the police presence because no children were pushed when he was around. Children were still being pushed in the river and rescued by the dog, but it always happened when the policeman was not looking. There were no witnesses either. The policeman dressed in plain clothes, but children were still being pushed into the river and rescued by the Newfoundland hero, who by this time had become somewhat of a local celebrity. Still, the policeman was unable to witness the crime. The policeman began watching from a concealed location. He watched as children played by the river’s edge but the serial “pusher” only pushed children who were alone presumably so there would be no witnesses. Then, the hidden policeman noticed a child alone by the edge of the river. Moments later, he saw the serial “pusher” calmly walk up and push a child into the river. His mouth dropped as he saw the Newfoundland hero spring into action and pull the child to safety. The policeman knew the serial “pusher” well. He had seen him nearly every day since his investigation began, but he never suspected that the serial “pusher” was… the Newfoundland hero whose only motivation was the reward of caresses and beefsteak.
Source: New York Times, February 2, 1908, p.14.
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