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On The Light Side

  • Writer's pictureDebi Davis

A Service Dog's Encounter with Lingerie

My latest service dog in training “Finn,” a Border Collie, whose biggest challenge in public is learning to ignore women and children, whom he adores. After an excellent training session in the mall, I stopped in the department store to look at lingerie--I needed to get a couple new bras, and felt Finn would have no problem paying attention in that quiet department.

Next to the pricey Wacoal bra rack, Finn spots a lady making goo-goo

eyes at him, and though he doesn't move, his tail begins to swing like a pendulum on speed. I recapture his focus, and we pick up a couple bras from the sale counter and head up to the register. Finn retrieves his leash, and does a nice "down" at the cashier's counter.

I pay for the bras, put the bag in my backpack, and head out of the store. All of a sudden, the sales woman comes trotting after me, asking, "Did you want that one too? I didn't ring it up." I have no idea what she means, so I say, "What one? I just have the bras I bought and here's my receipt."

Finn drops down next to my chair, assuming we're going to be stopping there for a bit, and the sales woman points to him and says, "No, that Wacoal bra your service dog has."

I look at Finn, who has his nose on his paws, and there's obviously no bra in his mouth. I look up at the saleswoman again and say, "I only see saliva. My service dog isn't carrying a bra."

I cue Finn to stand, and the saleswoman reaches out to Finn, to point at him, and his tail goes into full-tilt-boogie swing mode again. I then see the $85 Wacoal black lace bra waving back and forth from it's hanger, stuck in the puffy hair of Finn's curled-up tail.

He'd been walking all over the lingerie department wearing it on his tail, and I hadn't noticed, since I was focused on keeping him in a parallel "close" position next to my chair, watching his eyes and face, not his rump.

I apologize profusely, take the bra off Finn's tail, and look at it. I hand it to the saleswoman, say, "We weren't shoplifting--honest! See? This one is the wrong size for me.”

Thankfully, security wasn’t called and as we left the department, I could see the saleswoman laughing about the incident with another saleswoman. I might have been red-faced on the outside, but I was giggling on the inside.

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