Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Chetspeak’

Chetspeak on Sunday: Beginnings (More)

“There’s no Santa Claus,” Charlie said.

“Who told you that?” said Bernie.

“Esmé.”

“Who’s Esmé?”

“At school.”

“Well,” said Bernie, “everyone has their own opinion.”

“It’s not an opinion, Dad,” said Charlie. “It’s a scientific fact.”

“Oh?”

“From a scientist.”

“Any scientist in particular?”

“Groucho Marx.”

“Esmé told you that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Know much about Groucho Marx?”

Charlie shrugged his skinny little shoulders. “He was a scientist and he said there ain’t no Santa Claus.”

“What do Esmé’s parents do?”

“Drive her to school. Pick her up.”

“I meant for a living.”

“Like you’re a private eye?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“I don’t think they’re private eyes,” Charlie said.

“Why not?”

“They’re rich.”

– from SANTA 365, the 4th C&B short story.

Chetspeak on Sunday: Beginnings (More)

“I think my boyfriend is cheating on me.”

We should have walked away at that very moment, me and Bernie, or better yet run, our tails between our legs. Not so easy in Bernie’s case, since, maybe like you, he’s stuck with living a tailless life, poor guy. Imagine that! Actually, I can’t. The good news is that I’ve got enough tail for two, a strong, bushy, pleasing-to-the-eye tail that even has a mind of its own. Sometimes it wags me! Or just about. I’m not so easy to wag, being a hundred-plus pounder, and strong for my size, Bernie says. And not just Bernie: ask some of the perps up at Northern State Correctional, although they may not have time for chitchat, what with being so busy breaking rocks in the hot sun. The point is we’ve taken down lots of perps here at the Little Detective Agency. Bernie’s last name is Little. I’m Chet, pure and simple.

This customer with the cheating boyfriend problem did not look like a perp. What she looked like was the kind of woman who has a certain affect on Bernie. A lock of her golden hair – mostly golden, that is, the roots telling a darker story – drooped down over one eye and she flicked it back into place with a little shake of the head. That got Bernie’s attention, big time. Why? I just didn’t understand.

– from TAIL OF VENGEANCE, the third C&B short story.

Chetspeak on Sunday

We’ve been doing beginnings. Here’s the start of THE IGGY CHRONICLES, VOLUME ONE, the second C&B short story.

 

Chetspeak on Sunday

We’ve been doing beginnings. Here’s the beginning of A CAT WAS INVOLVED, first of the C&B short stories:

“Chet—let’s get a move on, buddy.”

Chet? That was me, and getting a move on was my kind of thing. Plus here at K-9 school they were big fans of coming after your name was called—pretty soon after, in fact, if you wanted a treat. Which I always did. But at this particular moment, I had just lifted my leg, and once started in on something like that, there’s really no stopping till it’s over, as you probably know. I’m not referring to the brief leg lift for marking purposes, over and done with in a flash. This was the other kind, much longer-lasting, and often a peaceful break in the day, where the mind can wander in a pleasant sort of—

“Chet!”

I finished up and trotted over to Officer Bobby Torres. Bobby gave me a funny look. I gave him a funny look back. His eyes, dark and watchful, narrowed a bit, and he wrote something on his clipboard. I yawned. Bobby opened the back door of his black-andwhite.

“In,” he said. I hopped in. Butch, my K-9 school pal, was already there, taking up most of the space. I nudged him over toward his side. Butch was one huge dude, everything about him enormous—excepting his eyes, which were tiny and dust-colored—and took a lot of nudging. No problem—I’m a good nudger. But hey! So was Butch, which I found out pronto from how he nudged me back. Then there was nothing to do but nudge him again, even harder. And what did he do? Renudged me, still harder. My pal Butch was turning out to be more fun than I’d thought.