Flying: From Thereby Hangs A Tail
Did flying come up yesterday, down below? I’ve done that!
I only started to get it when we were actually up in the chopper, Bernie and me kind of close together in the back, Colonel Bob at the controls up front. Were we zooming or what? The ground down below blew right by. Wow. So this was how the birds felt. The pukey part, too, I wondered? The truth was I preferred the Porsche, riding shotgun.
Bernie and Colonel Bob wore headsets, plus flying in a chopper turned out to be noisy, so I couldn’t pick up much when they talked, but soon we swooped down in a long curve that made me dig my paws into the floor, and Bernie said something like, “Didn’t see that before.”
And the Colonel asked some question about a pond.
“Yeah,” said Bernie.
“Let’s put ‘er down,” said the colonel.
We landed and got out; so good to feel the ground under me. I looked around and saw where we were: on that grassy flatland above Clauson’s Wells. There was the pond where Princess and I had drunk, and beyond it, the cabin where –
“What got into him?” said Colonel Bob.
But Bernie understood. He was hurrying after me. I pelted toward the cabin door, rose up, came down with my paw on the thumb piece. This time the door didn’t open.
The colonel ran up. “He knows how to open doors?”
“Some,” said Bernie.
“Where did you find him?”
“A long story,” said Bernie. I wanted to hear it, but Bernie went silent. He put his thumb on the thumb thing and pressed down. Didn’t open of course. I could have told him that … except I couldn’t. I got a bit confused, and in that moment of confusion, Bernie raised his foot and kicked in the door. That splintering sound – I loved it! Kick it again, Bernie.
“Is this legal?” said Colonel Bob.
Tags: Thereby Hangs A Tail
This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 19th, 2010 at 8:45 am and is filed under Chet The Dog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.