Aug. 29 was a sad day for Des Moines police officers and dog lovers statewide. K-9 officer Brian Mathis left his canine partner Harley in the back of his squad car for over an hour, with all the windows up, on a 96-degree day. As a result, the 7-year-old yellow Labrador retriever died.

The Des Moines Police Department has been investigating the situation and the case came to a conclusion this past Tuesday: Police administrators decided to punish Mathis by giving him a three day unpaid suspension. Des Moines Police Chief Judy Bradshaw said Mathis was torn up inside about the death of his partner Harley, especially considering that Harley was the Mathis family pet as well.

We have no doubt whatsoever that this incident was an accident, and that Mathis is as remorseful as one can be in that situation. The man accidentally killed his dog, his friend, his partner and a fellow officer, as police tradition holds. There is much here for many people to feel bad about. Nonetheless, we cannot help but wonder if Mathis’ insignificant punishment isn’t a prime example of “one law for us, another law for the police.”

Whether or not you believe that animals ought to be afforded legal rights and protections, it is clear that police dogs are a unique type of animal. Police culture honors the police dog as a full-fledged officer. In many places, police dogs are sworn in by the city council, just as a human officer would be. They are given a funeral with full police honors when they are killed in action. And police dogs are honored by outside police organizations who keep track of national police deaths.

Police dogs may actually be treated better than their human counterparts — a testament to the humanity of their police handlers and society at large. Beyond the worth to the human soul in treating those creatures well over which we have complete dominance, police dogs, both by social convention and law, are a special and protected class of animal.

The federal government protects federal police dogs in Title 18, Section 1368 of the U.S. Code. Anyone who kills a federal police dog is eligible for 10 years in federal prison. Most states have laws protecting police dogs, too. Iowa law, for example, in chapter 717B, section 9 of the Iowa Code, says that the knowing and willful killing of a police dog is a class D felony, punishable by up to five years in state prison and a $7,500 fine.

We know Mathis didn’t knowingly and willingly kill Harley. Mathis, while no doubt a regretful, decent man with a fine police record, is still guilty of neglect resulting in the death of a police dog — a police officer to many —which is at least a serious misdemeanor as codified in chapter 717B, section 3 of the Iowa Code: “A person who impounds or confines, in any place, an animal is guilty of animal neglect, if the person … kills an animal by any means which causes unjustified pain, distress or suffering.”

A dog cooking inside a 150-degree car certainly qualifies as unjustified pain and suffering, and certainly this deserves more than the proverbial hand slap of a three-day suspension without pay. Had any average citizen killed his own dog in this way, let alone a police dog, he certainly would face harsher legal consequences than a few days off work.

If the Des Moines Police Department wishes to retain Mathis as an employee, that’s their business. However, the nearly-nonexistent consequences to Mathis’ actions is questionable. The negligent death of a police dog is not only socially and ethically reprehensible, and illegal, but it also represents the loss of an investment of tens of thousands of the taxpayers’ dollars, and a legal remedy must be sought to make them whole.

We are not suggesting that Mathis have the book thrown at him, but the law, for both financial and ethical reasons, demands satisfaction. The community, and likely Mathis’ hurting heart, would be well served by convicting Mathis of the misdemeanor and sentencing him to community service in the local animal shelter. Everyone involved in this case — Brian Mathis, the Des Moines Police Department and the decent citizens of Des Moines — deserve better.

Because, after all, Harley deserved better.