Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘steak’

Thanks!

“What a party!” says Spence.

“How does Rio do that sleeping sitting up thing?” says Admin.

“Don’t know – but it would come in handy.”

“Get enough steak?”

“Tasty or what?”

Sure was. And now I’ve got a nice T-bone buried and I know just where! Something to look forward to and that’s something I always look forward to, meaning having something to look forward to. Kind of confusing but it makes me feel tip-top.

So Close To Steak Tips

So there we were at the Dry Gulch, me, Bernie and Ray. Colonel Bob was supposed to meet us but where was he? Also Ray was wearing a wire. How come? Those were two problems. There were probably more but I don’t go past two. Once we were at a party down at the college – love college kids! the fun they have! who wouldn’t want to go to college and stay forever? – and this math professor had too much to drink. All of a sudden he started crying. “What if nothing important is quantifiable?” he said. Bernie patted him on the back and called a cab.

But right now he was putting his finger across his lips, human sign language for zip it. Then he reached for a cocktail napkin,wrote something on it and held it so Ray could see. Ray nodded, a little nod. He was real scared. I could smell it. I could also smell steak tips just about done in the kitchen, but this probably wasn’t the time.

Dry Gulch (More)

I was just finishing the steak tips – best I’d ever had, at least since the last time – when Bernie glanced over at the archway that led from the main part of the restaurant to the patio. Humans get this look of surprise sometimes, their eyebrows going up and all of a sudden looking younger than they are, and Bernie had that look now. A guy was coming toward us, but not Colonel Bob, who was the guy we were expecting, unless I’d gotten it wrong. And that can happen. Take in that warehouse down in Mexico, when I’d expected Peanut to pull up in front of that metal roll-up door and come to a stop. Was I wrong about that or what? That’s in To Fetch A Thief unless I’m wrong about that, too.

But forget all that. The point is the guy coming toward us was not Colonel Bob, although he looked kind of like a younger version. Hey! It was Ray.

Happy Birthday, Rosie! And many many more.

Dry Gulch

Haven’t been to the Dry Gulch Steak House and Saloon in way too long. They’ve got a giant wooden cowboy out front – very tempting to lift your leg against him, but I’ve never given into that temptation, except maybe once, which might be in To Fetch A Thief – and a cool patio out back, where the nation within the nation is very welcome. Right now, for example, the bartender is saying, “Customer just sent back a plate of steak tips – medium, and he asked for medium rare. Think Chet would be interested?”

“Nah,” says Bernie.

And then there’s lots of laughing, not sure why.

“Love when he does that,” says the bartender.

Does what? Standing up on my back legs, maybe, front paws on the bar? Oops.

Soon after that I’m at the edge of the patio with a nice plate of steak tips. Medium? Medium rare? I like them both, also rare and well done. And raw, come to think of it. Bernie says I’m not a fussy eater. I glance over at him between bites. He’s checking his watch.

“Wonder what’s keeping Colonel Bob?” he says.