Chet The Dog

Archive for February, 2010

The Silver-Teethed Dude: Sneak Peek From To Fetch A Thief

What reminded me of this was when I mentioned Zutty Yepremian yesterday, if I actually did. Zutty was nothing compared to the silver-teethed dude, a real pussycat. Whatever that might mean.

His eyes opened wide, although not very wide, because of how narrow they were to begin with. He recognized me, no doubt about that, and the sight of me ticked him off big-time. That had happened before with perps too numerous to mention, Zutty Yepremian, for example, or Sing Jong Soo, and didn’t bother me at all. But when he jabbed the pitchfork right at my head – that bothered me. I darted away from those sharp pointy ends, then came at him from the side, real quick, but he turned out to be real quick himself, getting the pitchfork between us and jabbing again. I dodged, tried to go underneath, take him out by the ankles, one of my best moves, but down came the pitchfork, blocking my path. And what was this? Holding the pitchfork in one hand, the silver-teethed dude reached into his pocket with the other and drew a gun.

To Fetch A Thief

That’s the title of book 3, just decided yesterday. To Fetch A Thief, I mean. That’s the title. How did we get there? Don’t ask me.

Bernie says there’s been lots of ice talk down below. “Tell them that all we know about ice is that the rubber ice tray – the thing that goes in the freezer – was invented by Lloyd Copeman. He was the grandfather of Linda Ronstadt, which is how I found out about him. Remember those Mexican songs, Chet?”

Of course I did! We listened to them all the time when we were chasing down this perp named Zutty Yepremium. Love those Mexican songs!

No Post Today

Why? Because I just couldn’t make up my mind. Does that ever happen to you? First I was going to get back to the story of Colonel Bob’s son. Have I actually even started it? But it’s pretty complicated, and while I was sorting that out, this discussion broke out between Bernie, Spence, and Admin. Those hardly ever happen and they never go well. Bernie had a glass of bourbon, Spence had a beer, and Admin drank water. Hey! Just like me. Admin and I have something in common! I’ll try to think of more in-common things. Maybe some other  time. But meanwhile this discussion was all about killer whales. It got a little heated, for example, Admin saying, “Notice the killer part, right in their name? Combine that with the equivalent of locking them up in a tiny cell and what have you got?” I didn’t know, had no idea what was going on. Then I remembered that Bernie said there’s some kind of question down below about Nance. Nance? Isn’t she breaking rocks in the hot sun long about now? What comes first, the trial or the rock breaking?

See how confusing this is? So no post today. What’s that over there? A nice little patch of sun on the rug? Hard to resist. In fact, impossible.

This Universe: Good Enough

“Here’s a story out of Germany,” Bernie says. “Seems the cops came looking for this perp at his place in some town near Cologne. Some pal of the perp – holding the perp’s dog, key point – opened the door and said the perp wasn’t home. But then he put the dog down, and the dog – no names in the story, but possibly a Jack Russell – ran right to a little cupboard and started wagging his tail. The cops opened the cupboard and – well, you know the rest.”

I do?

Bernie gives me a look. “Kind of like us, Chet, but in an alternate universe, all upside down and backwards.”

Alternate universe? Forget about it.

Admin: Thanks, Kathy Z.