No Post Today

Instead we wrap up the final revisions on It’s A Wonderful Woof, the Chet and Bernie Christmas/holiday novel coming after Tender Is The Bite. My part is just about done. Over to you, readers! (As for revision, the trick in getting it right is in plain sight in the word itself – seeing again.)

Share

Tags: , ,

This entry was posted on Monday, February 22nd, 2021 at 9:40 am and is filed under Chet The Dog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

3 Responses to “No Post Today”

  1. Herd of Hounds
    10:28 am on February 22nd, 2021

    Oh Spencer, sometimes your way of looking at things is so like Chet’s.
    RE VISION.
    I hope all our friends in Texas have lights, heat and water.
    Have a good day and stay safe, stay healthy and stay sane.

  2. B. Stover
    10:53 am on February 22nd, 2021

    That actually is the definition: Re means “again” and vision from the Latin “videre” means “to see.”

    Good day to all.

  3. Thieves!
    1:25 pm on February 22nd, 2021

    We are training Wee Howie how to be a well-mannered gentle dog. She is coming along nicely. On one of her training exercises, she managed to get her paws on classified information titled They Have a History. We couldn’t be more proud.

    Wookie grabbed Beau, the newest comer by the scruff and pulled him two of the pug’s steps back. If it had been Wookie’s steps, the steps of a Golden Retriever, Beau would have been dragged on his puggish posterior. Being dragged was murder on curly tails. It would have taken days for the curl to recover to business as usual. If pugs could wear collars with grace, it would have been easier. Wookie tried to reserve scuff grabbing for pups and those out of line, but when your charge’s neck is bigger than his head, you have to resort to the basics.
    Beau’s eyes bugged at Wookie? “What’s da problem.”
    Beau was new, that was for sure. And, if you asked Rio, which apparently no one did, the black pug was not welcome. Rio thought it might be fun to have a pug to pal around with for the weekend, but when the Beau showed up with his crate, his too many and too fancy toys, and his bible, that was on the brink of intolerable. But, when no one returned to get him, that crossed the line. He could handle the “Thus saiths,” and constant prayers for a coupla days, but it had been a week. Seven days of being reminded, “Thou shalt not lie,” “Thou shall not steal,” and “Global dominators will not inherit da earth,” put Rio in a bad mood. Badder than normal.
    “They have a history,” Wookie explained. “It runs deep between them.”
    Beau snorted. The snot coated his dry snout, and a little bit of Wookie’s nose. Taking it in stride, Wookie gently shook from tip to tail. There was no need to embarrass Beau with over reaction. It was not Wookie’s way.
    Wookie offered up a min-pin sized explanation to Beau, “They got off on the wrong paw, and instead of being able to part ways, they were forced time and again to interact. Most understand that cats and dogs may not always get along, but the relationship between pug and goat, especially those of the evil and marauding varieties, is largely untested. But, in Rio’s opinion, it was a failing pop quiz.”
    “I will pray for dem,” Beau’s ears perked to the heavens. “Yes, I will pray. One day da pug will lay down with da goat thus saith da pug.”
    Now, it was Wookie’s turn to snort. It was a much more refined snort, but a snort nonetheless.
    “What is da billy-gruff’s name? I like my prayers to count.”
    Wookie hesitated, “Bob. Here we call him Robert, for long.”
    Rio cocked his head in Wookie and Beau’s direction at the mention of Bob. His tail curled tighter. Twist! Snort! He was done with Beau, done with questions, done with Bob. He needed a Zinger.
    “Let me show you a quiet place to pray.” Wookie walked in low gear so Beau could keep up the pace.
    Rio was left to his thoughts, and the Zinger he had hidden behind the garden gnome in a blue coat and purple hat. Burp! How had Bob—no, Bob was Robert to him on account that Bob preferred his nickname—known where they would be? The mission was secret. Top shelf secret, like the shelf where his Friend keeps his favorite dog biscuts. Could one of the agents have spilled the kibble on the mission? No! He wouldn’t believe that about anyone on the team, but something seemed different. Something was off, but what? He found another Zinger, this time behind the tomato plant he had been meaning to hydrate—two birds, one stone. Both actions cleared his pug mind.
    “He’s praying in the sunny spot on the side of your house,” Wookie informed upon his return.
    With the exception of a burp, Rio remained silent.
    “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s new here,” Wookie circled three times before laying down in another sunny spot near Rio. “He will figure things out soon enough.”
    With the exception of a large bit of gas, Rio continued to remain silent. Zingers always repeated on him.
    Wookie raised his eyebrows. Refined more than most, manners mattered to the Golden.
    Rio broke his silence with two words, “Worth it.”
    Rio licked his paws. “There’s something I don’t like. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not right, Wookster.” The nickname was a term of endearment the evil pug used when he came to Wookie as a confidant and not as the commander.”
    “Agreed. I have played it over and over in my mind. I don’t know how Bob, er, Robert knew the mission.”
    As they sunned themselves in the sunny backyard with the garden gnomes as their only audience, they debated, discussed, and deliberated the problem at paw. They had been found out. That was for certain. How and who was responsible was what was not certain. They had ideas, but no answers.
    Out of habit, Wookie wagged his tail providing a slight breeze to cool Rio. “Thanks, pal. I wish I could return the favor, but…” Rio tightened his curly tail to demonstrate its lack of fan-like qualities.
    “Not to worry, Rio. Our friendship is based on more than tails.”
    “So let it be snorted, so let it be done.” Rio and Wookie both looked in the direction of the farside of the backyard. Beau! Snort!
    “Don’t you have a bible to thump somewhere else?”
    Beau ignored Rio. Not backing down, finally, something Rio could respect about the black pug.
    Beau lay down on the other side of Wookie. Out of habit, or was it good manners, Wookie fanned Beau with his tail just as he had done for Rio. “Tanks, Wookie, my new friend.”
    “Given your snouts, it’s important to keep pugs cool during these hot days,” Wookie stated.
    Beau’s eyes bugged out and looked past Wookie and onto Rio in surprise and then back to the golden. “How is it, Wookie, my friend, dat you come to know so much about pugs?”
    It was now Wookie’s turn to remain silent. The Golden would not brag, this Rio knew. It was not his way. “He was brought up right,” Rio answered.
    Wookie may not brag about himself, but he was proud of his people. They had been easy to train, “True.” He fanned his tail again in Rio’s direction, and then again in Beau’s. Both pugs snorted in appreciation.

The Books



powered by wordpress | site by michael baker digital