Junkie in for a big surprise

Most of us have faced the dilemma of what to do with an old pet as it nears the end of its life.
The owners were leaving on an extended vacation. Alas, the big old dog simply wasn’t up to the trip and previously had not fared well by being boarded at a kennel.
The young lady who arrived on the scene provided the perfect solution. She loved dogs, and would dog-sit and house-sit for the use of the accommodation.
Everyone was delighted.
“Now don’t worry about old ‘Copper.’ If he gets sick or down or worse, here’s the number of our veterinarian,” explained the owner, agonizing over the pending separation.
“He’ll look after everything—we explained you would be looking after ‘Copper.’
“Maybe we should just have him put down but he seems so peaceful here at home, we just couldn’t bear to,” the owner added.
The young lady stood on the steps and waved as they rushed out to the car. The big old dog waved his tail wearily and limped back inside for a nap on his favourite rug.
Two days later, when the dog-sitter returned from school, she found “Copper” had peacefully passed on. There he lay—all 100 pounds of him stretched out on his favourite rug.
“Yes, I will look after everything. You will just have to get him over here to the clinic,” explained the voice on the phone.
“There is simply no way I could pick him up for at least two days.”
That would not do. How do you deliver a deceased dog across town, especially when you don’t have a car?
Public transit? Would they take a dead dog?
Subterfuge was the answer.
A search of the house unearthed a long disused hockey equipment duffle bag. Out with the equipment, in with the dog.
It was a struggle, but she was a strong lass and made it down to the bus stop with all 100 pounds of old “Copper.” Onto the bus and, as luck would have it, a vacant seat right by the door.
She settled in.
“Boy, that’s a heavy bag for a little thing like you. What have you got in it, a body?” joked the passenger in the adjoining seat.
“Don’t panic! Think!” she cautioned herself.
“Naw, it’s just all my worldly possessions. I’m moving across town and you’ve no idea how all those CDs and computer stuff can weigh up,” she breezed, confident the little white lie would see her through and it seemed to do just that as the bus rolled on and they continued to chat.
They pulled up to a bus stop. The doors opened. The junkie standing by the door had heard every word.
He grabbed the bag, jumped off the bus, and charged off down the street to freedom and another fix.
The dog-sitter was shocked into immobility and silence as the doors closed and the bus pulled away. “What would she ever tell the owners?”
But that would be nothing compared to what the junkie would have to tell his fence when he opened his sack of loot.