If I were a bomb-sniffing dog I’d retire. In my retirement I’d probably play a lot of golf. At first I would struggle to swing the club because I wouldn’t have any thumbs, but if I were smart enough to sniff bombs out, I’m sure I’d be smart enough to hit a stupid white ball. I’d be able to hit it pretty far too. I’m sure farther than any other golfing dogs out there.
My main downfall would probably be sand traps. I would concentrate really hard to hit a good shot, but eventually I would give in and just dig holes in the sand. Then I’m sure my tail would taunt me and I’d chase that round and round until I got tired and laid down for a nice rest.
When the girl that drives the cart around selling beers drove up to me I’d quickly drop my club and pretend to be a stupid non-golf playing dog. I’d trot up to her and stick my nose in places normal people don’t get to stick their noses. But to me she would just giggle and rub my head and maybe smack my ass. Man, do bomb-sniffing dogs have it made or what?
(This post was subconscioulsy inspired by Blog Ho's "If I" posts that crack me up.)
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