When Peek, my Papillon service dog, was just starting out in his service career I became a little too attentive to my shopping, and wasn’t watching my dog closely enough. We arrived at the cashier’s counter, and I put my purchases on the counter to be scanned. When the last item had been scanned, the cashier said, “I’m just waiting for the last item your service dog is carrying.”
I looked down to see my dog with a white rabbit pelt hanging from his chops, which he’d pilfered from the bottom shelf while I was looking for items up higher.
I reach down, pluck the pelt from Peek’s mouth, and hold it up. Thick with slick, ropy drool, the cashier spurts, “that’s okay, ma’am. I don’t need to scan that item--I’ll just punch the numbers in manually.” No way was she touching that slimy pelt! Of course I pretended I’d just forgotten to ask my dog to give the item to me, and wasn’t about to admit my dog had been shoplifting.
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