The Plights of the Agriculture Integrity Department
Bluebell trots between two waves of travelers who roll like caterpillars toward customs check. Our vests are green with black, but she wears a blue one, with Agriculture Integrity Dept stitched in gold. I grab her by the collar. Bluebell is petite, with short hair colored in tranquil shades of chocolat noir and cafe latte, but now she pulls with the force of a small tractor at harvest time. It’s noon, and I haven’t fed her yet. Who’s better at sniffing artisan blood sausage than a trained beagle? A hungry trained beagle.
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