Posse Support Dogs.

Tuppence was sitting on the couch, examining a left fore claw.  “You need to get to work getting us registered.”

I said, “Tupp, you are, registered.  You’re vaccinated; I paid the license tax; you have a tag, and everything.”

“No, you need to get us registered for our jobs, and get us some of those ‘Don’t mess with the dog’ vests.  Those vests are cool.”

Enlightenment.  “Oh, you mean like service dog vests.  But you guys aren’t service dogs.”

“Well, we aren’t yet, because you have been too lazy to register us.”

“Service dogs have jobs.  Like helping blind people, and deaf people, and veterans with PTSD, and people with epilepsy.  They do wonderful work.  They’re trained.  All you do is sleep, bark at squirrels and UPS drivers, and forget the command to ‘sit and stay.’”

Tommy jumps in.  “We’re so good at our job that you don’t even notice.”

“Yeah,” I said, ”it’s pretty invisible.  Sort of like a Right Fielder for the Baltimore Orioles.”

Tommy ignored me and went on, “We’re more like Emotional Support dogs.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “In reverse.  You demand that we emotionally support you, scratching tummies on demand and such.”

They both snorted.  But not with any humor.

I have evidently never learned my lesson about trying to explain to beagles.  I started.  “Guys, real Service Dogs are great and wonderful animals.  They give people lives they might not otherwise be able to live.  It’s not a matter of just registering.  It is a matter of training and doing.”

“So,” said Tuppence, “you gonna get the registering done or not?  Or do we have to hack your Google Chrome again.”

This worried me.  The last time they tried to use my computer, they ended up wiping out the BIOS, but only after ordering 15 Salad Shooters.  And they don’t eat salad.  “No, no.  Let’s just talk this through and see if there is anything or anyplace you can be registered.”  (When you’re going to be nibbled to death anyway, it’s best to surrender early.)  “What is the service you perform?”

Tuppence replied, “We said it’s kind of ‘emotional support’.  We’re Humility Support dogs.”

“What?”

“We keep you from getting a big head.  Now, order our vests.”

“I want mine in purple,” said Tommy.

“Pink, with mink, for the Lady,” said Tuppence.

I kind of blew up.  “I can’t believe I’m dumb enough to listen and put up with this.”

“See,” said Tuppence, “We’re helping you stay humble.  No need to thank us.”