My name is Ronda Seidule and I live in Montgomery, Texas. I'm just an average citizen who is concerned about the state of our brave men and women police officers. Last night I wrote this in honor of Sgt. Moore and every other fallen officer. I didn't know Sgt. Moore, but felt compelled to let his family know that I care. That people do care about his death and every other brave officer who has died protecting us. 

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Every day before you walk out of your home you make darn sure to kiss your wife/husband and children goodbye. Maybe just a sweep of your lips across the face of your youngest little angel because you don't want to awaken her. You give the dog a quick ear jostle and ask him "whodagoodboy?" He jumps up and down while barking as hard as he can "ME ME ME IMAGOODBOY!" You grin at him as you walk out the door to save the world.

You feel you must do these little rituals because there may be a day when you can't. This is what a policeman/woman thinks about every single day. Will this be the day I die?

You live with the knowledge that some people hate you and want you dead. Every. Single. Day. Could be your last. How many jobs has anyone else worked in which the downside was you could be killed by some lowlife wielding a knife like a cracked-out ninja? But cops deal with it; it's their job.

Or maybe...wait a minute..could this be a setup? Will I get ambushed? Thousands of thoughts race through their minds in seconds and they must always be expected to react perfectly, like machines. If the unthinkable happens and a cop dies, it's terrible. But hey, some say cavalierly as they trot off to work to sit behind a desk, that's what they signed up for, right?

Or imagine walking up to somebody's car during a traffic stop and instead you get shot to pieces, left for dead and your police car stolen. Do you know why police tap the taillight or top of the trunk as they walk to your car? It's to leave DNA in case you shoot them and steal their police car. That fingerprint ties them to the car; they were standing there. I think they rely more on cameras now, but old habits die hard. Imagine doing that tapping every day of your job and knowing the reason for it. And this situation is exactly what happened to Sgt. Greg Moore. 

Every single moment of every single day is consumed by thoughts of what can I do to ensure that law-abiding citizens and my fellow policemen stay alive. And yes, I even need to keep alive if at all possible the violent criminals who so badly want me dead and try to kill me.

And facing the demoralization day after day of the anti-cop movement weighs heavily on their minds, only adding to the enormous pressures they already face.

But every day you still don your police uniform, including bulletproof vest, and bravely walk out of your front door, knowing it could be for the last time. But not before you kiss your wife and children goodbye. 

But today instead of playing your "WHODAGOODBOY?" game with your dog, something causes you to stop and gently hold his face between your hands. You say in a choked voice as you look into his soft brown eyes, "Be a good boy. You may have to be the man of the house one day." He gently licks the salty tears off your face and promises he will by wagging his tail. He watches his beloved owner walk out the door. And never sees him again.