By Nate Thayer

July 20, 2016

My pal, Lamont, has out snookered the feared Dog Police.

Only days ago, the threat of the death penalty was swinging like a lynching rope at the gallows over Lamont’s head.

Lamont schmoozes with Dog Secret Police Agent

It was recently that the feared Dog Police in the capital city of the Free World issued an all points bulletin for the storied, recidivist mutt, Lamont, who had crossed that ‘Red Line’ and assaulted a U.S. government federal employee–the hated Post Office Mailman. At the end of the altercation, the score was Lamont 1, Mailman 0. The Postal Worker was left confused, bleeding, and with a hole in his leg. The Mailman contacted Post Office Management. Management contacted Postal Police. The Postal Police contacted Medical Professionals. Medical Professionals contacted the Government Dog Police. And the Dog Police dispatched their most experienced Detectives and tracked down Lamont.

The Dog Police sentenced Lamont to a term of House Arrest, forbidding him from contact with any humans or other dogs.

Lamont gets paroled from incarceration by the dreaded Dog Police after being given time served for good behavior

Lamont knew that life as he knew it was under threat. Being no dummy, Lamont has been on his best behavior. The Dog Police have been to Lamont’s house 4 times in the ensuing period to check whether the mutt is behaving himself. He hasn’t been, but one would never know it when the Dog Secret Police show up and Lamont, like a veritable Houdini, morphed into an excellently behaving dog, slathering on the smooches, being extra polite, contrite, and lovable.

Today, Officer Daniels–who is Lamont’s Probation Officer and has been a bit smitten with Lamont from the get go–showed up for his 4th and final visit.

Lamont and I were out ferreting around the gardens of our palatial estate when Officer Daniels showed up.

“Hi Lamont,” he said, ignoring me. “Have you been behaving yourself?”

Lamont sat down, remarkably and without precedent, wiggled his tail and batted his eyelashes at the dreaded law enforcement official, who had Lamont’s future firmly in his grip.

“Lamont!” I whispered. “What kind of tricks are you up to?”

Lamont rolled his eyes at me and gave me a dismissive sideways glance. “Just shut up and watch,” he said, and turned his attention back to the cop.

Lamont whined like a Damsel in Distress. I could only roll my eyes at the B-grade acting. “Lamont! What are you up to?” I asked him when the cop turned his back for a moment.

“Just be quiet and leave this to me, Nate” he said, with considerable cheek.

Lamont assumed the impossibly unfamiliar and incongruous persona of the virginal, virtuous, hopelessly passive dog in need of sympathy from the dashing hero cop in uniform with a badge, as if he was tethered to a railroad track or a sawmill conveyor belt, in immediate need of rescue from the doom of the approaching train–which I assumed was me.

Lamont made it seem like his knight in shining armor had arrived to save him in the nick of time.

We repaired to some lawn chairs and Lamont sat by the feet of the uniformed officer with a badge.

“He is a very well-behaved, friendly fellow,” said Officer Daniels.

I nearly spit out my water as I drank in Lamont’s acting spectacle.

Then Lamont jumped up on the creased uniform of the cop and gave him a smooch and nibbled on his hand.

Officer Daniels filled out his paperwork and said “Lamont, you are good to go. You are no longer under quarantine and you have done an excellent job since I saw you last week.”

I signed a couple of papers and Officer Daniels got up. The cop ignored me and flirted with Lamont for a moment. Lamont jumped up on his leg and requested a pat on the head and Officer Daniels obliged.

“Lamont, buddy, now you behave yourself,” he said to the mutt, wagging one finger in a faux stern tone. “You are a very good boy,” he said, bending down.

Lamont and the cop exchanged smooches. “Goodbye, Lamont,” he said. “I don’t want to have to come back here again,” he winked at Lamont.

The cop left. Lamont, quite pleased with himself, looked up at me. “Just stick with me, pal,” he told me. “I’ll show you how these things are best done.”

Then he strutted his bad self back inside and demanded dinner and some fresh water.