My hearts beats in my chest – I KNOW they know…
I’m standing trying to look as calm as possible when I know I have dodgy goods in my luggage.
My stomach lurches as I see the small head turn and look right at me.
I look away and pretend I’m reading a sign.
There’s a nudge on the edge of my consciousness.
“Why are you so nervous? You don’t think I can smell what you’ve got?”
I turn back to see the small face looking up at me, it’s little orange coat catching the light from the sign I was just pretending to read.
I sigh. I’ve been had. How could I even think I’d get away with it.
The little face belongs to a small beagle-like dog, the standard drugs dog breed used in Johannesburg airport.
I form a picture in my head of a small box of Valium and a rather large amount of chocolate.
“What’s going on?” The little face frowns.
“We’ll…” I start to explain, “…my mum just died.” I pause to form a picture in my head for the dog to see.
I feel him soften and his eyes change.
“I’m struggling emotionally and these pills were from the doctor to help me with the anxiety that I feel.”
Again, I form a picture in my head of me being anxious, then taking a pill and feeling calm.
He sits down listening, his head tilted to one side.
“And the chocolate? Why so much?”
I laugh and form a delightful picture in my head of me gorging myself in a particular stressful situation.
He looks me in the eye. An image appears in my head of him holding his paw over my heart.
“I’m sorry.” He says quietly.
“Thank you.” I answer.
Still, a drugs dog has to do his job so he walks over calmly, guardian in tow, and has a good sniff around, but then turns around and walks off.
I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t condone smuggling illegal substances, but these weren’t illegal.
I watch as the little dog walks off, nose in the air.
As I go to look away, he turns back and I SWEAR I see him wink.
“Look after yourself.” He says. And he’s gone.
(This is a FICTICIOUS story. The contents of my luggage may NOT be ficticious.)
