Mr. Bitz

 I saw bomb sniffer and all-around black Lab Mr. Bitz in my office lobby last week.  I spelled things out for him – I said, “I don’t have a bomb, Mr. Bitz,” as I scratched under his chin.  He wagged his tail.  His trainer laughed.  Every chance I get I say hello to Mr. Bitz or to his work companion, Lola, who looks enough like him to be his twin sister.  

Then I noticed that out of nowhere some German Shepherd interloper started showing up with the usual downward sloping back of a pure breed and a different, squinty-eyed trainer.  They appeared to be all business, all official K-9 business, all piss, vinegar and the sobriety that comes with a muy importante security gig in Nueva York.  I didn’t see any squeaky toys lying around either.  Just a nice concrete slab to lie on to stay out of the sun.

Mr. Bitz and Lola are better at making friends.

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