Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Stine’

Speak, Memory

Guess what – I slept right through Elvis gospel yesterday. How did that happen? 

Okay, where were we? Was Lt. Stine asking about those petroglyph thieves? Bernie didn’t like those petroglyph thieves, not one little bit, so neither did I, even though petroglyphs turn out to be nothing but rocks with scratches on them. Have I mentioned about how Lt. Stine was the guy who got me and Bernie together in the first place? The crack house where I was a puppy, the drunks, K-9 school, all that? Is anyone interested in any of this? The other day I remembered the whole thing, exactly! Every detail. Not now, for some reason.

Okay, where were we?

A Lazy Day

So sleepy today. Does that ever happen to you? I can hardly keep my eyes open. 

Anyway, before I forget, Lt. Stine had one more question for Bernie. He said … uh, something about, um …

Here’s a question of my own: why try so hard to keep your eyes open when they want to close? Give me one good reason. No?

Zzzzz.

Horse Sense, Whatever That Means

“Before we go on,” Bernie said, “a little controversy has broken out down below.”

“Down below?” said Lt. Stine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Horses,” Bernie said. “The usual story is that horses went extinct in North America around 13,000 BC, which just happens to be when the first humans came over the Bering land bridge. See where I’m headed with this?”

“Nope,” said Lt. Stine. I was with him. I remembered a perp named Bering who we’d put away some time ago, but he’d been in a backroom poker game when we nabbed him, not on a bridge. I yawned, a nice big one.

“But now it turns out there’s a countervailing view,” Bernie said.

Lt. Stine blinked a few times. That always tells me that the human brain is getting overloaded – yes, it can happen. “Bernie?” he said. “Can we get back to the knife?”

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.