Chetspeak on Sunday
“Guess so,” said Moondog. He glanced around, fixed his gaze on the mule, now standing on a ledge above the cliff. “But what about Rummy? Can’t just leave him up there.”
Bernie looked up at the mule. “How about calling him?”
Rummy seemed to be watching us, too. Was he still chewing on that straw? Too far away to tell for sure.
“Like calling him works,” said Moondog. “He’s a mule, for Christ sake.”
Bernie turned to me. “Chet?” he said.
What happened after that seemed to go on forever and was dusty, bloody and noisy. Let’s just get it on record that I went up onto that ledge and persuaded Rummy to come back down and leave it at that.
– from THE DOG WHO KNEW TOO MUCH.
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