A Shelter Dog’s Big Day Led to a Forever Home He Never Saw Coming

When Bolo walked through the front doors of the Hopkinsville Police Department, he had no idea his life was about to change forever.

He was supposed to be there for a day. One simple visit. A chance to get out of the shelter, meet some friendly faces, and perhaps charm someone enough to adopt him. That was the idea behind “Paw-Trol Wednesdays,” a new initiative dreamed up by Public Information Officer Royale Marfil. Each week, a shelter dog would spend time at the department, soaking up love and attention, and hopefully catching the eye of a future family.

Bolo, a three-year-old pit bull mix, was the program’s very first guest.

He had already spent two long, quiet months at the shelter—waiting, watching, hoping. But the moment he stepped paw into the police station, it was clear: Bolo wasn’t going to be waiting much longer.

At first, everyone was curious but cautious. A big dog in the office? No one knew what to expect. But within minutes, Bolo’s gentle tail wags and soulful eyes had melted every heart in the building.

He made his rounds—meeting dispatchers, officers, and staff—with calm, easy confidence. He soaked up belly rubs, flopped over for scratches, and trotted happily behind anyone who looked like they might have a snack. His wide smile and goofy charm turned even the toughest days into something lighter.

“He warmed up to everyone so fast,” Marfil recalled. “By lunchtime, people were asking, ‘Can we keep him?’”

As the day wore on, Bolo made himself at home. He found a spot on the cool floor in Marfil’s office and flopped down like he’d been there for years. Eventually, he dozed off—legs twitching, snoring like an old man—while officers whispered and laughed around him, trying not to wake their new favorite coworker.

When the time came to take him back to the shelter, Bolo hesitated. He lowered his head, ears drooping, and let out a soft, sad whimper. It was the kind of moment that hits you squarely in the chest.

And it hit the entire department.

No one wanted to say goodbye. Thanks to a quick conversation with Chief Newby, no one had to.

“Yeah, why not?” the Chief said when Marfil floated the idea of keeping Bolo. “Let’s keep him.”

Just like that, Bolo went from a temporary visitor to a permanent family member.

By day, he’s now the department’s official mascot—greeting guests, cheering up coworkers, spreading tail-wagging joy. By night, he heads home with Marfil, where he has his own bed, a toy bin overflowing with squeaky treasures, and all the love he can handle.

The first time she took him to PetSmart to pick out a collar and toys, something shifted. “That’s when he truly understood,” Marfil said. “He was so happy—you could see it in his eyes. He finally felt chosen.”

In early November, Bolo was sworn in as the department’s very first Paw-trol Officer—a title made for him. No, he doesn’t sniff out suspects or chase down criminals. His mission is simpler, and perhaps even more important: to love, to comfort, and to bring a little light to every room he enters.

“People come by my office to see him,” Marfil laughs. “It’s as if I’m borrowing the space from him now.”

Bolo is thriving. Always nearby when a snack wrapper rustles, always ready with a nuzzle on a bad day. “He’s basically a furry garbage disposal,” she says with a grin. “Chips, granola bars—even cough drops—he wants to investigate everything.”

But beneath the goofiness is a heart of gold. Every day, he smiles like it’s his first day on the job. And perhaps that’s the best part.

To the Hopkinsville Police Department, Bolo isn’t a mascot. He’s a reminder of second chances. Of unexpected joy. Of what happens when you open your heart to the idea that family can come in all shapes, sizes… and fur coats.

What started as a one-day visit turned into a lifetime of purpose.
And for Bolo, the shelter dog no one had chosen for months, that ordinary day became the start of something extraordinary.