I once got a drug dog very excited about me by getting corned beef hash spilled on my leg half an hour before the flight from Samoa.

Seven hours later, drug dog rocks up in Sydney and sniffs my leg and the poor bored cops look at me like I’m El Chapo and go through all my stuff, only to look disgusted when I mention the stain is meat juice.

I hope the poor dog got some beef treats sometime after at least.