Service Dog

I'm standing in line at Washington Mutual. It's not too busy, which makes everyone in line, including me, happy.

"Sir, is that a service dog?" the large black security guard, who could be chef from South Park, asks. I look down at Moxie, and she looks at me. I look up at the security guard, and he looks at me. We all stand there for a moment.

"Yes," I respond.

"Um... what's its function?" I look down at Moxie again. She looks at me and smiles. I look at the security guard and smile. He doesn't smile back. Her function seems pretty clear to me - what's the issue?

"Isn't that obvious?" I ask. He shakes his head indicating he doesn't like what's happening.

"You'll need to take her outside."

"Okay."