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One day up in the Cotswolds, a hiker sees a sign in front of a house: "Talking Dog for Sale." He rings the bell, and the home-owner tells him the dog is in the back garden. The hiker goes into the garden and sees a beautiful Alsatian sitting and sunning himself.
"Hello, old boy. Do you talk?" he asks.
"Yes," the Alsatian replies, in a cultured Sandhurst accent.
"So, what's your story?"
The Alsatian looks up and says, "Well, old chap, can't tell you much - they made me sign the Official Secrets Act. In any event, I discovered this gift as a young pup. I wanted to do right by God, King and Empire, so I told MI5 about my gift. In no time they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one suspected a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable intelligence assets for eight years in a row.
"The jetting around really tired me out, I knew I wasn't getting any younger, and I wanted to settle down. So I signed up for a job at Heathrow to do some undercover security work, mostly wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings there, and was awarded the Dickin Medal (the "Canine VC"). Had a wife, several grand litters of puppies, and now I'm just retired."
The hiker is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner how much he wants for the dog.
"Ten pounds."
The hiker says, "This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him so cheaply?"
"He's a bloody liar. He didn't do any of that stuff."
Copyright © 2008 A. Farson (including images). All rights reserved. Last revised: 02/05/2008.