Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘canyon’

Where The Heart Is

“A one night stand,” said Colonel Bob. “But memorable – and not just because I shipped out the next day.”

“Did you see her when you got leave?” Bernie said.

Colonel Bob shook his head. “I never went back home – there wasn’t anything left there for me.”

Not going back home? I didn’t get that at all. I love home! Our place is on Mesquite Road and backs right onto the canyon. The fun we have out there, me and Bernie! I thought about canyon fun for a while and when the while was over Bernie and Colonel Bob were talking about DNA. DNA comes up in our work from time to time – we’re partners in the Little Detective Agency, me and Bernie – but what it is exactly I’ll leave to you.

A Dangerous Business (From Thereby Hangs A Tail)

“Don’t want to jinx it,” Bernie said, “but things might be working out on the money side. That five grand I put into those tin futures last night?” I remembered the check book coming out, but five grand? “Guess what – it’s up to six already. Overnight! Plus all this easy money from Adelina. I feel guilty taking it. The Manhattan DA’s probably right – there’s no threat here.” Bernie turned his face to the sun, closed his eyes. He looked much younger all of a sudden, and I could see the resemblance to Charlie. “Life is good, Chet. Why is it so hard to keep that front and center?” Poor Bernie. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, just pressed my head against his leg. He reached down and scratched between my ears. I closed my eyes, too, and did nothing much but feel the sun and the air, so soft and –

Crack! Zing!

What was that? A loud explosive sound rang across the canyon and I saw the strangest sight – my bowl spinning in the air, water drops sparkling in the sun. The next thing I knew, Bernie had dived off the bench and grabbed me. We rolled together in the dust, bumped on something hard – at that moment I heard another crack-zing – and ended up behind a boulder. At the same time came one more crack-zing, this one followed right away by a ping, and a chunk of boulder right above my head got turned into a tiny powder cloud.

Then it got real quiet, Bernie and I huddled behind the boulder. Time passed. The big black bird, or another one, returned to the sky, circled around. Bernie rose to his knees, pulled himself up, very slowly, took a peek over the boulder. I took a peek, too.

“Chet! Down!”

But I wanted to see. Across the canyon, not far from where a group of houses crept down the hillside, I caught a glimpse of a far-off bicycle, or maybe a motorcycle; and then it was gone. The big black bird swooped down over us – close enough so I could hear the beating of its wings – and flew away.

Film Curating

Hey! Iggy could really run! It had been so long since he’d been free that I’d forgotten. The little guy could scoot.

“Stop him, for God’s sake,” Kelo Printz shouted.

I took off. Was it to stop Iggy? Not so sure about that. He scampered down Mesquite Road, trailing all that coiling film. I charged after him. He darted through someone’s yard, into the back, and whoa! What was this? A little path leading into the canyon? How come I didn’t know about this? We ran into the canyon, down a gully, up onto a ridge, dust rising, side by side, me nipping at the film from time to time – how come Iggy got to have it? – and tiny scraps of it tearing off and blowing away. Were we having fun or what?

Kickin’ Back

This morning Bernie woke up and said, “Hey, Chet – what you doing on the bed?” And then: “And where’s my pillow?” Tough questions, a little too tough for me. After he had some coffee – talk about a great smell! – he said, “Tell you what – why don’t we just forget everything today and go for a long walk?” I forgot everything just like that.

One of the great things about our place on Mesquite Road is how it backs up on the canyon. Bernie opened the gate and there we were, off on a great ramble, Bernie huffing and puffing as we climbed the trail. There’s a lookout with a bench at the top. Bernie sat down and took a deep breath. “Just take in that view, Chet. Is this some kind of planet or what?” Lost me there, but then he gave me a nice scratch between the ears. Ah. “Happiness is possible, Chet. Got to keep that in mind.”  Okeydoke. 

Spencer Quinn will be at Market Street Bookshop, Mashpee Commons, Mashpee MA 02649 at 1:00 PM today.