A story that starts with a family vacation and ends with an arrest is now shaking up Polk and Hillsborough County.
10 Tampa Bay’s Anjelicia Bruton reported that a former Bartow Police Department officer is out on bond after being accused of poisoning and killing his girlfriend’s dog.
The Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office says the suspect, Edwin Campuzano, put poison pellets in a dog food bowl and killed a three-year-old dog named Milo, according to Bruton’s report.
What makes this case stand out isn’t just the accusation. It’s how the truth was uncovered.
Because the person who pushed it forward wasn’t some outside investigator at first. It was Milo’s owner, Paula Fernandez, who kept digging until the story cracked open.
A Vacation Phone Call That Changed Everything
In the press conference video shared by WFLA News Channel 8, Hillsborough County Sheriff Chad Chronister walked through how this all started.
Chronister said the date was May 30 of last year when Paula Fernandez and her family went to California for vacation.
She left Milo behind with the understanding that a friend – the neighbor – would take care of him while she was gone, Chronister explained.
Chronister said that on the very day Fernandez arrived in California, she received a call from the neighbor.
The neighbor said she found Milo “deceased,” and something didn’t look right. That is the kind of call that doesn’t just ruin a vacation. It knocks the air out of you.
Chronister described Milo as a healthy three-year-old Maltese with no medical issues, which is why the neighbor’s next observation mattered.
The neighbor looked into Milo’s food tray and reportedly saw pellets mixed in.
The neighbor asked if Milo was fed special food. Fernandez said no, only the food she left behind for him.
So Fernandez collected the pellets. That small detail sounds ordinary, but it became the physical breadcrumb that carried the case forward.
The Dog Everyone Loved, And The Boyfriend Who Didn’t
In Anjelicia Bruton’s 10 Tampa Bay report, Fernandez spoke publicly for the first time.
She described Milo like a real family member, not just “a dog.”
She said he loved everyone.
She said he was smart enough to tap the fridge if he wanted water.
Those little details matter because they show what was lost. Not property. Not “an animal.” A living, trusting creature that depended on people.
But Bruton also reported a darker part of Fernandez’s story.
Fernandez said her boyfriend at the time, Edwin Campuzano, “would continuously tell me that he didn’t like Milo.”
Fernandez told Bruton she never believed that dislike would turn into harm.
And then Milo died while she was out of state.
According to Bruton, a neighbor found Milo dead while Fernandez was away, and the neighbor said something looked off with the food.
That’s when grief turned into suspicion. And suspicion turned into something like a private investigation.
The Pellets, The Photos, And The First Break
Sheriff Chad Chronister described Fernandez as someone who didn’t just accept a tragic explanation and move on.
He said she took the pellets, photographed them, and sent the images out to people she knew.
She asked a simple question: has anyone ever seen these pellets before?
Chronister said feedback came back that the pellets looked like rodent poison, used for gophers and similar pests.
Now you’ve got a possible cause of death that doesn’t make sense in a dog bowl.
And once that idea enters your mind, it’s hard to put it back in the box. Bruton reported that Fernandez, while grieving, worked to find answers.
And the sheriff’s office says she learned the pellets in the bowl could be rodent poison. That’s where the story takes a turn that feels straight out of a crime show, except it’s real life.
Because the next clue wasn’t found in a lab.
It was found in a bank statement.
The Credit Card Statement And The Tractor Supply Charge
Chronister told the press, in the WFLA video, that there were “two big mistakes” the suspect made.
One, he underestimated “what extent a dog lover and owner will go” to find the truth.
Two, Chronister said he underestimated Fernandez’s investigative ability.
Chronister even put it bluntly: Campuzano “wasn’t the only investigator in this relationship.”
That line lands hard because it captures the whole vibe of this case.
A former officer is accused of doing something cruel, and the person closest to him ends up building the trail that leads to handcuffs.
Chronister said that from May 30 until December 17, Fernandez had that sinking feeling in her gut that something wasn’t right, even as she was still dating him.
Then came the moment Chronister described in detail. Fernandez asked her boyfriend if she could look at his credit card statement.
Chronister said Campuzano agreed – “like any suspect does at times.”
Fernandez scrolled down and saw a charge at the nearby Tractor Supply store, Chronister said.
In Bruton’s report, the sheriff also described that moment: she saw a charge for $81 at Tractor Supply.
That is the chilling clue.
Because that’s not groceries. That’s not gas. That’s not a random impulse buy.
And if you already believe those pellets were poison, a farm supply store charge right before the trip starts looking like a neon arrow.
Chronister said Fernandez went to Tractor Supply and found the rodent eradication section.
She located a gopher poison product. And he said the total cost matched: $81.
“Lo and behold,” Chronister said. Then Fernandez went back to the store and asked them to pull up the transaction information for that date.
Chronister said the store cooperated and confirmed the purchase.
Two days before her trip, the receipt showed her boyfriend bought gopher and rat poison, Chronister explained.
If that timeline is accurate, the purchase wasn’t accidental. It’s hard to read “two days before she left town” as anything but planning.
“Scary” Isn’t Just A Word Here
Bruton reported that Campuzano is charged with aggravated cruelty to animals, and that he bonded out.
She also reported that if he is convicted, he will be added to the state’s animal abuser registry.
The part that sticks in your throat is what Fernandez said about his reaction afterward.
She told Bruton she never saw remorse from him.
She said that in the months after Milo died, she would tell him she was sad, and he would ask, “Why?”
And she would say, “I’m still thinking about Milo.” That’s not normal human behavior, if her account is accurate.
Even if someone doesn’t like a dog, most people understand grief.
Chronister, quoted in Bruton’s report, said you have to be “beyond cruel” to harm a defenseless animal, and then try to cover it up by acting like the “perfect boyfriend,” comforting the owner while knowing he caused the death.
Chronister ended that thought with one word: “Scary.”
And honestly, that’s the right word, because cruelty like that doesn’t feel like a one-time slip.
It feels like a character problem.
It raises the question everyone hates asking: if someone can do that to a small animal that trusts people, what else are they capable of when things don’t go their way?
Chronister also said in the WFLA video that he learned this type of poison causes an extremely painful death in animals it wasn’t intended for.
He told viewers to “think about that,” and then described it as calculated and deliberate.
He said the suspect bought the poison two days before she left town, knowing his intentions.
Again: “Scary.”
The Badge, The Standard, And The Fallout
Bruton reported that Campuzano was a full-time officer with Bartow Police at the time of the incident, but is no longer employed there.
She also reported that he was in the process of being hired as a deputy sheriff in Polk County, but is no longer being considered for that position.
That detail matters, because the public trusts law enforcement with power most people never get.
When someone wearing a badge is accused of something like this, it doesn’t just stain one person.
It makes people wonder who is being screened in, and who is being ignored until something terrible happens.
This isn’t just about a poisoned dog, as awful as that is.
It’s also about the way systems respond when an accusation points inward.
And it’s about the fact that, according to Chronister’s account, this case moved because Fernandez wouldn’t let it die in silence.
The Part That’s Hard To Forget
The strongest piece of this story isn’t the court process or the headlines.
It’s the image of a person sitting with grief, staring at strange pellets in a food dish, and refusing to accept a shrug as an answer.
Chronister described Fernandez’s instincts like an investigator’s instincts: that gut feeling, that need to confirm, that decision to chase the lead herself.
Bruton showed the emotional side: the loss of Milo, the lack of remorse she says she witnessed, and the moment she realized the person closest to her may be the one responsible.
There’s a kind of quiet heroism in that, even though nobody wants to be forced into it.
Because being “your own detective” isn’t fun when the case is your own life.
It’s exhausting. It’s ugly. And it comes with the risk that you’ll learn something you can’t unlearn.
Fernandez learned it anyway.
And if the allegations hold up in court, the clue she found – that Tractor Supply charge – will be remembered as the turning point where grief became proof.
Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.
