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Monday, November 15, 2004

Dogs Life

What's *with* the drug dogs on the ferry? I can't work out what the handlers make them go back and sniff for? My battered Volvo got a double checking last night en route back from Bellingham.

And what are those troopers writing when they stop by a vehicle and jot notes?

Has anyone noticed how sex *will* out: part of the deal between cops and K9s must include the dog team taking longer over vehicles with hot chicks in. Both sides clearly love it; always the same routine:
Hunky State Trooper pauses by chick-laden vehicle and looks stern as handler and mutt weave around.

"Something wrong, officer?" (Giggle primp preen.) Trooper maintains stern visage but cracks some cool quip to which further giggles. And there you have it, chat engaged. A bit unfair on the handlers who seem to have to weave some frenetic route back and forth and never get to chat the birds up.

I carry so much dubious stuff in the Volvo's boot - poll cleaner, herbicides, soil enhancer and other agricultural potions du jardinier - that I'm surprised I haven't been more thoroughly searched and asked to explain my cargo.

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