OK, so they arrest me, take my fingerprints and snap my
picture. I explained to them that I have
a phobia. I have an irrational fear of
hearings. They snicker. I say, “Hey, stop snickering, I'm
serious." One of them grabs my arm
and says, "Come with me, wisenheimer, we're going to lock you up."
Meanwhile, Jimmy, my emotional support dog, bites the
officer on his elbow, in an attempt to make him let go of my arm. In fact, the cop does let go and grabs his
now wounded elbow with his other hand.
I say, "Jimmy has always looked out for me." It is at this point that the second officer
takes hold of Jimmy's collar and walks him back to pictures and prints. They then proceed to take his paw prints and
then snap two photos of him, one straight on, and one profile.
It was during the profile shot that a third cop recognizes Jimmy from a previous encounter, and says, "Hey, that's my collar." It is at this point confusion ensues, and while the three cops argue, Jimmy and I casually walk out the front door.
Next week I'll tell you about the time Jimmy, myself and a
city cop were exercising his vegetables.
We caught up to him as he was walking his beet, but that's a story for a
different time.
1 comment:
Ha Ha Ha - Beet!! Got it!
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