The Copenhagen-to-Malmö Border Patrol (by Magnus 🐻‍❄️)

🇸🇪 The Øresund bridge takes the humans 25 minutes. The dog walks it in five frames. I sit upright in the back seat. I supervise. I do not lie down on the bridge. This is not a bridge for lying down. This is a bridge for civic responsibility.

We cross on a Saturday at 10am. The Swedish customs officer is a woman named Inger who has a small white dog at home named Bruno who is also, in her words, a personality. She does not ask for Magnus's pet passport. She looks at it because she wants to. The microchip number is correct. The rabies booster is in date. Inger and I make eye contact through the window. I incline my head one centimeter. Bridge cleared.

In Malmö we go directly to a coffee shop on Lilla Torg called Solde. The dog water is in a low ceramic bowl. The barista, whose name is Linus and who has been working there since the place opened in 2007, brings me a piece of unsalted ham on a saucer. I accept. I do not eat right away. There is a small terrier at the next table who is being too loud about a croissant crumb. I wait until he has been spoken to. Then I eat.

The Carletons drink oat lattes. Jay does the math on whether to drive back via the bridge or take the train. The math is the same either way. I supervise the math.