Brownsville boy, pet taken to police station for questioning

By Rene Torres
Special to the Advance

The call was made to the Brownsville Police Station early Monday morning in 1940 — the voice on the other side of the phone identified herself as Mrs. W.F. McDonald, reporting that in her presence was a little boy with a gun and a vicious dog.

Not knowing what to expect, Brownsville police officer Clyde Owens jumps into his squad car and scurries to the scene — Grant Street, in the Victoria Heights neighborhood.

The little boy and the dog in question, was Monko and his Pup the Mutt. The pair had wandered beyond their familiar neighborhood — lost, but inseparable.

The pup behaved like a well-trained bodyguard and the boy, who carried a toy six-shooter, which looked like the real thing — made it difficult for anyone to approach them.

As cars whistled by on 17th Street, Mrs. Mc-Donald ran to help them, but the boy’s bodyguard jumped at her protecting his owner. But being the smart mutt that he was, after realizing she was trying to help, however, he calmed down, but stayed close.

“Where do you live?” Mrs. McDonald asked.

He pointed North, then West, then East, then South — obviously, the boy and bodyguard were lost.

She decided then to take them home and call the police.

“A little boy, about 4 years old looks like he’s been lost and has his dog with him,” explained the woman.

Minutes after the call was made, officer Owens drove out to the scene of the crime and puts the boy and his faithful mutt in the squad car. Afterward, they made their way to police headquarters.

Using the Fifth Amendment, neither would respond to questioning from the police. Six-Gun Monko and Pup the Mutt were being held “incommunicado” at the Brownsville Police Station.

No matter how much the cops questioned him, he just wouldn’t talk. And forget about approaching him, every time somebody did, his bodyguard would growl, rear up threateningly, and scare the intruder away.

This was a difficult case to solve — as police continued throughout the morning with no results as to who he was and where he lived.

After hours of interrogation — the smartest of detectives could only determine that the boy was well-dressed in a knee length, light blue playsuit and wearing huaraches and looked to be about 4 years old. His trusty pet dog was decided to be a combination of a lot good breeds.

The “third-degree” questioning of the boy went something like this:

“What’s your name?”

“Um, m-mh-h-h.”

“What's your mama’s name?”

“Mama.”

“What does your mama call you?”

“Monko.”

“What’s your dog’s name?”

“Pup.”

Pup moved close to protect Monko every time someone tried to question the boy. The “bodyguard” sticks to his job regardless of the circumstances.

It is not known whether the case was solved — but one thing for sure, the dog was the boy’s best friend, walking in tandem regardless of the situation.

Somebody once wrote, “A dog can express more with his tail in seconds than his owner can express with his tongue in hours.”