Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘cruller’

Donut Heaven, Continued

A lovely cruller. I curled up on the shotgun seat and got to work. Meanwhile Bernie and Lt. Stine were talking about Freddie Dancer, the dude who’d taken pot shots at us down at the tiny box canyon. I got the feeling Bernie was learning something important, like Freddie Dancer’s name was really Freddie Dangelo, and that he’d got his name from dancing on some poor guy his gang had beat up, and that he’d done time at Central State for kidnapping. But only a feeling, because mostly all that talk passed over me like a gentle breeze. I took care of that cruller, then licked off the last crumbs. I was still doing that when Bernie said, “Kidnapped? Interesting. That’s what happened to our client, Kelo Printz.”

Donut Heaven

I almost gave back the Frisbee again, and then maybe again after that, and possibly once more. And then I actually gave it back.

“What a fun dog,” said one of the college kids.

Love college kids!

After that we went to Donut Heaven. Love Donut Heaven, too! Life is good, just one thing after another. Lt. Stine was waiting in his cruiser. Has Lt. Stine come up yet? He’s with the Valley PD, and is maybe how come me and Bernie got together in the first place, although exactly how is kind of hazy. That might be in Thereby Hangs A Tail; Lt. Stine’s in it for sure.

We parked cop style, driver’s side door to driver’s side door. “Hey, Chet,” said Lt. Stine, holding up a paper bag, “guess what’s in here.”

That was easy – crullers.

“Big guy,” said Bernie, “a little space, please.”

Cruller, Part One

Lt. Stine was this big shot from downtown. He actually had something to do with me and Bernie getting together, but don’t ask me the details. Maybe they’re in Thereby Hangs A Tail. Lt. Stine’s all right, but I like Sgt. Torres better. Right now Stine was at our door, wanting a word with Bernie. 

“By the way,” he said, “got half a cruller left. Think Chet would be interested?” 

Hey! It turned out I liked Lt. Stine just as much as Sgt. Torres! 

I went to the corner, got busy with the cruller. Lt. Stine noticed Suzie. 

“We can talk in front of Suzie,” Bernie said.

“Come on,” said Stine. “She’s a reporter.”

“This’ll be off the record,” Suzie said.

A complicated discussion, but I liked the sound of their voices.

Stine nodded. “Need to know what happened in the desert, Bernie,” he said.