When I was 20 I lived by myself in squat in Dunedin. The squat was a partially burned out house, which I’d crawl into through a hole in the wall.
One night I woke with police German Shepherd on top of me.
The dog was gentle, I in no way felt menaced by it; it was just as if a friendly dog was waking you up by climbing on you.
However, at the time, I was a cannabis dealer, and I did had about 1/2 pound of cannabis beside me. Not knowing whether the dog was trained to smell drugs, I quickly got up to meet the dog’s handler.
A policeman was beginning to climb through the hole, and instead I met him outside.
He explained that they were looking for someone else. He said I could stay there for now, but that they’d be informing the owner that I was there, then him and the dog left.
A couple of months later I awoke to the owner and worker arriving. The owner promptly informed me ‘your tenancy is over!’, in good nature. They boarded up the hole and I found a different place to stay.
