Moon Dogs

Willy got the paperwork via a special shuttle from Earth to Mars. The large envelop was marked urgent in large red-lettering.

“Recalled?” he said, “I jus’ got here. And what about the new porters job I was promised at the hotel/casino?”

The person delivering the folio, shrugged and turned away.

Slowly, Willy read through the documents, looking for an explanation. There it was on, the third page, second paragraph, fourth sentence.

“There are domesticated dogs being unlawfully-housed and fed by the citizen’s of the Moon.”

Willy sighed, “Once a dog-catcher, always a dog-catcher. Where’s Bob Barker when you need him?”