At first, the customs officer thought the drug-sniffing dog was barking up the wrong tree. Or, rather, sniffing up the wrong tourist.
As the 475-pound man waddled through customs, the dog began to pay him close attention, sniffing suspiciously at the man’s huge stomach. Annoyed, the man told the dog to “shoo.” No luck.
The customs officer was a bit reluctant to approach the man, since he really didn’t fit the profile of a smuggler, and his personal effects had already been examined. But the dog was relentless. Over and over it pointed its nose toward the tourist and kept sniffing and whining and sniffing. It was almost as though the dog itself was puzzled.
The officer finally conceded that something was awry.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he told the rotund tourist. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to accompany me to a dressing room for a strip search.”
It was a task that neither man was looking forward to. But it had to be done.
Once inside the room, the tourist was ordered to disrobe, and a complete body search was initiated. It was then that a plastic bag containing eleven ounces of a white powdery substance was discovered—discreetly hidden amid the many folds of the man’s tremendous stomach!
The substance proved to be cocaine.
The drug dog was vindicated.