Last week, on a really rainy day, Mike and I drove all the way up to Shoreline so he could get a new driver’s license. I waited in the damp, chilly car while Mike went inside to pay the fee and have his photo taken.
“What about me?” I thought, lying there in the front seat under a sleeping bag. And lo and behold, within a few days word came that our vet had installed a new system for communication and record-keeping. How neat is it to have all of my sensitive medical information available at the flick of Mike’s fingers! Even better: It had a template that Mike used to make me an ID card:
Now, some might ask why a dog would need an ID card, but I see it making me seem more official, and providing me possible entry into the world of government surveillance and intrigue. Why not me? I have watched enough episodes of The Unit and NCIS with Heather to know all the procedures and lingo needed to be a spy dog. Certainly my excellent olfactory skills give me a big nose up when it comes to tracking suspects. And I’m pretty sure there is currently no canine component to any of the three NCIS (Washington, Los Angeles, New Orleans) crews — and I should know, since I’ve sat through most of those episodes with Heather six or eight times at least.
Being a secret agent spy dog might be fun. We could use a little excitement around here that isn’t related to the Super Bowl.