The Cow Texas Maximum Security Prison had a recent surprise visitor this week, and the town couldn’t be happier.
Newest inmate Bertrand Freudenberg was minding his own business (and reflection) doing curls in his cell when an unexpected, dripping surprise appeared on the other side of his iron bars. A dog!
But it wasn’t any old dog, it was his adopted pet, “Dog”.
Dog’s real name, of course, is George, but Bertrand’s ideas for pet names had about as much inspiration as his haircut. Bertrand is bald. And George was 6 letters too long for Bertrand to pronounce.
Dog missed his owner so much that he couldn’t bear to wait the full duration of Bertrand’s overnight sentence. “I got home, and I kept forgetting and looking for Bertrand EVERYWHERE,” explained Dog. “I looked at the BACKYARD. Near the FOOD BOWL. In the CAR. Near the FOOD BOWL,” he continued, deciding now was the perfect time to shake his long coat aggressively.
A fan of prison break movies and rolling in smelly things (and known to have run-ins with the local sewer rat gangs), Dog discovered a way to break IN to the local prison. “I just followed the smell!” Dog said to local guards, who couldn’t believe their eyes (or noses).
This seemed to be a pattern in the family. Bertrand was also spending the night in prison after breaking in to try seeing his own father, who he missed so very much. His father had broken in to get some peace and quiet from his annoying and fully grown son.
Dog’s sudden appearance, however, had a positive effect on the prison’s inmates and guards. After getting cleaned (Dog officially stated that he HATED that part), he went around to all the inmate’s cells, speaking and shaking their hands with his head. Less or a traditional human handshake, more of a pat and then a scratch. Behind the ears. And that bit near behind the shoulder blades where you can never seem to reach. And that spot down at the bottom of the spine near the tail. Yeah, that’s the spot.
The guards noticed just how impressive morale improved with Dog’s visit that they invited him to visit every day for the rest of the week. “But we told him not to go through the sewers this time,” the prison officer on duty laughed. “We left the gate open for him.”
Word of Dog’s magical morale-boosting powers quickly spread around town. And if there’s one thing the townsfolk desire more, it’s something they don’t currently have. High on the list, was hanging out with Dog.
The Maximum Security Prison was less of a necessity in the small town, as it turned out, and more of an obscure KPI set by an overzealous young, new manager. Worth noting that the most decorated criminal of the prison was 78-year-old Alfred, covered from head to toe in temporary tattoos, sentenced for refusing to bless a fellow passenger on the bus who sneezed.
And so, in a moment of excitement, part-time business student and prison manager enthusiastically unveiled new building interior sketches. Obviously confusing me with a board member, or his long-suffering girlfriend.
The prison will be re-opening next week as a Maximum Co-Working Space, and everyone in town has been invited for the grand opening. There’ll be a sausage sizzle, a table tennis competition, and chew toys to take home.
The manager wishes to remind the public that they do NOT need to commit a crime to enter, and anyone caught in the sewers will be flushed out.
