Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘skull’

Bon Mot, Forgotten (Corrected Version)

Bernie got off the dozer. We walked toward the rubble pile, and there, balanced between two rocks, sat a human skull. Yes, I’d seen this skull before, just before that cave-in.

“Oh my God,” said Addie. “Do you think that’s my great grandmother’s sister?”

“We’ll need DNA to establish that,” Bernie said.

DNA – that came up from time to time in our job, but what it is exactly I couldn’t tell you.

We stood in front of the skull, all of us quiet. There were tears in Addie’s eyes. She took Bernie’s hand. Once Bernie told Suzie that some crimes are – what was it, again? I tried to remember.

Reminder From Long Ago + Vote!

From April 3, 2009:

We were outside this cave, or abandoned mine or whatever it was, somewhere in Death Valley. “There are no supports. Don’t go in there.” But I had to. I smelled a rat, one of those big desert rats. I don’t like them, not one little bit, don’t like their smell, either, which is kind of like mice except more sour, like they’re always eating something rotten.

The next thing I knew, I was deep in the shaft, smelling the rat, and hearing him, too, scurrying on ahead of me. “Chet! Chet!” Bernie shone the light inside. I saw my own shadow, stretched out way ahead. And what was that? Uh-oh. A skull.

Also: These cool German media students have made a book trailer for the German version of Dog On It and it’s a finalist for the fourth annual Bertelsmann Book Trailer Award. You can go to the German website www.derbuchtrailer.de and watch it – and vote for it! Yes, it’s in German which no one at chetthedog understands, but it’s pretty entertaining even without the words.

Major Clue, Ignored (Sigh)

“It’s my guess,” Bernie said, “that Ezra Printz got out of the mental hospital and went back to Death Valley looking for more evidence of the crime. Was it there? I don’t know. We didn’t find a skull or bones or anything like that, just the film can.”

Whoa. A skull? I had a memory of that, deep in the cave, just before the roof fell in. Yes, there’d been a skull for sure. I barked. No one paid attention. I barked again. Outside, Iggy, somehow running free, barked back – yip yip yip.

“Keep it down, you two,” Bernie said.

If Only I Could Remember The Post About The Skull

IN THE CAVE

“Wait, Chet,” Bernie said. This was yesterday. We were outside this cave, or abandoned mine or whatever it was, somewhere in Death Valley. “There are no supports. Don’t go in there.” But I had to. I smelled a rat, one of those big desert rats. I don’t like them, not one little bit, don’t like their smell, either, which is kind of like mice except more sour, like they’re always eating something rotten.

The next thing I knew, I was deep in the shaft, smelling the rat, and hearing him, too, scurrying on ahead of me. “Chet! Chet!” Bernie shone the light inside. I saw my own shadow, stretched out way ahead. And what was that? Uh-oh. A skull. A human skull, sitting straight up on the hard-packed ground. And beside it lay a can, a big flat kind of metal can, pretty much the shape of a Frisbee.

“Chet? What’s going on?”