In a small town the veterinarian, who was also the chief of police, was awakened by the telephone. “Please hurry!” said the woman’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Do you need the police or a vet?” he asked. “Both,” the woman replied. “I’m not able to get my dog’s mouth open, and there’s a burglar’s leg in it.”
After a week of agonizing physical training, police academy cadets still hadn’t been admitted to the firing range. “I don’t get it,” huffed one trainee to another as they pounded out yet another five-mile jog. “What do you mean?” “We still don’t know how to protect people and property, but we’re getting real good at running away.”
Dad I think the Smiths next door are angry at us.” “Why is that?”
“They’re probably mad because our dog can retrieve the newspaper, and theirs can’t.” “How could you possibly know that? We don’t even subscribe to the paper.” “Yeah, that’s probably got something to do with it, too.”
“The prosecutor says she can produce five witnesses who saw you running from the bank with the money bags,” a defense lawyer confided to a suspect. “That’s nothing, said the suspect. “I can produce five hundred witnesses who didn’t see me running from the bank.”