Sneak Peek: Robbie Forester and the Outlaws of Sherwood Street
“You’ve done something bad, haven’t you, Pendleton?”
“And now you’re feeling guilty.”
I heard him on the stairs to the top floor, meaning he’d been in one of the two bedrooms—mine or my parents’—or possibly the tiny bathroom up there.
He came around the corner, into the living room where I could see him. Yes, bad and feeling guilty. The thing with Pendleton was that doing bad and feeling guilty about it often happened at the same time for him—more than once, just watching him, I was pretty sure he sometimes actually felt guilty first. Another thing about Pendleton was how often he was the first to provide the evidence of his misdoings, sort of cop and perp in one body; one huge body in his case. Right now, for example, he was dragging along my dad’s favorite bathrobe, soft white terrycloth with the words Hotel Amanjena, Marrakech, stitched over the chest pocket, a pocket no longer quite attached.
He turned away, but didn’t go anywhere. His head swiveled back to give me a sheepish look. Maybe not the right word, sheepish, since sheep were probably fiercer than Pendleton. But never having been close up to a sheep, I couldn’t be sure.
Pendleton sank down to the floor, rolled onto his side.
“For God’s sake.” The fabric had gotten hung up on one of Pendleton’s teeth, not a first and no surprise at all, on account of how enormous his teeth were. I knelt down and got everything untangled, then held up what was left of the robe. “Realize the kind of trouble you’re in? Look what you’ve done.”
Pendleton showed no interest in doing that. Instead he stuck out his pink tongue and gave me a lick.
“That won’t work with Dad,” I told him.
Coming January 19.
This entry was posted on Sunday, January 8th, 2012 at 9:25 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.