Dog Walking

     I was talking my collie in the park when I came upon this woman. I stopped and stared and she stared back at me. How could there be a carbon copy of me? Impossible.

    "Why are you staring?" she asked.

    Should I tell her she is as beautiful as my dog? Hesitating, I said, "Have you always been a honey blond?"

    "Skip the honey," she said and drew an object from her pocket. She pointed a pistol. "Hand over the dog," she said.

     That's how I lost my pedigreed pup. 

      I told the police. "She shouldn't be hard to find. She is the spitting image of me."

      So I'm in the psycho ward, and the shrink is asking me, "Why do you want to get arrested?"

      I weep and pull my hair. To escape this hellish inquisition, I tell the shrink. "I was walking in the park. Alone. I don't have a dog."

     The shrink whispered something to the officer. I was released, but warned "not to walk in the park."

      Should he meet my spitting image, I hope he throws the book at her.