I said this on my old blog, so it bears repeating on this one: Dale Cooper only exists because Laura Palmer made him. A scared, abused 12 year old little girl, she's going to do the only thing in her power at that age to cope and conjure an imaginary best friend, a guardian angle, a child's render of an FBI agent who wants nothing more than to save and protect her. Who singularly lives and breathes the mystery of her trauma and inevitable death.
He's nothing like a real adult, because he isn't real at all. He throws rocks at bottles to discern suspects and revels in cherry pie like a kid enjoying dessert. His methods mature over the course of the show—perhaps emulating a maturation of Laura's understanding of the law—but he ultimately remains absurd and whimsical and the only one who could solve her murder.
There is no Twin Peaks without Laura Palmer and more intimately, there is no Dale Cooper without her, either. From the very start of her suffering, she was trying to cling on, to find a handhold, anything at all. She existed to be murdered, yes, to create this story, but she existed, also, to create her own savior, the only real hand that could finally touch her without hurting her. Even at her eleventh hour, Laura Palmer didn't die helpless. She did the best she could and, at just 12 years old, she made herself an angel.
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