Posts Tagged ‘The Iggy Chronicles’

Chetspeak on Sunday

41 Comments »

October 23rd, 2016 Posted 8:05 am

Bernie, my partner in the Little Detective Agency, was here all right, but hadn’t yet made an appearance. His snoring, coming from the bedroom down the hall, made a lovely sound, actually musical to my way of thinking. We’d had a late night down at Central Booking, trying to hand over a perp we’d busted, name of Truffles Siminoni, whose MO was all about boosting fancy food from high-end restaurant kitchens. We had lots of pals at Central Booking, everything usually going smoothly, but last night there’d been a hitch – something about the evidence having disappeared, was that it? A pound of caviar, whatever caviar happened to be, or possibly two pounds? While I was wondering about all that, although not wondering hard, Mr. Parsons called Bernie’s name again. His wavery old voice sounded even waverier and older than usual. I rose, gave myself a shake – not the long kind that starts at my nose, goes to the tip of my tail and then all the way back, and sometimes makes one more round after that! – no, this was a just a quick shake to get going.

I went down the hall to Bernie’s bedroom, and just as I was about to enter gave myself one of those good long shakes after all. Some things you can’t explain. At that moment I happened to lick my muzzle. Hey! It tasted salty.

– from THE IGGY CHRONICLES, VOLUME 1 (a C&B e-short)

Share

C&B Short Stories

51 Comments »

October 17th, 2016 Posted 8:23 am

It has come to the attention of high authority that some Chet and Bernie readers don’t know about the e-short stories! These are astounding times, as we all know, but still. Here’s one key point: you don’t need a Kindle.There are many many ways to get the stories – iTunes, for example. Can you read them on your watch? Probably!

cvr9781451690620_9781451690620151yJWhaPIgL._AA160_10477575_747969958598565_5395838832565888652_osanta365_03

Share

Chetspeak on Sunday

27 Comments »

August 28th, 2016 Posted 8:08 am

We went inside. Bernie closed the door.

“Chet,” he said. “Open.”

Open the door? We’d just come in. But I do what Bernie wants and … and he’s the same with me! What a thought! And a brand-new one, as far as I know. But no time to stay with it, no matter how much I would have liked to, and that wasn’t really all that much, because I was already up on my back legs, bringing a front paw down on that catch thing. Click went the door, and it cracked open a tiny bit. I stuck the tip of my nose in the crack, gave my head a bit of a twist, and the door opened wide.

“No way Iggy could do that,” Mr. Parsons said.

“Don’t be so sure,” Bernie said, slipping me a treat. “Dogs can amaze you.” Or something of the sort. Much more important was the fact that I’d gotten a bit ahead of myself: Bernie hadn’t actually slipped me a treat. How had that happened, or not happened? Where was my treat? Hadn’t I just opened the door? Didn’t I get a treat when I opened doors? Unless we were on a dangerous job, of course, and there was no time. But we weren’t on a dangerous job. We were in Iggy’s house. I kept my eyes on Bernie’s hands, waiting for one of them to dip into a pocket and produce a treat.

“But Iggy’s such a short little guy,” Mr. Parsons was saying.

That was supposed to be news? News was that we had a big problem and it was getting bigger: Bernie didn’t even have a treat on him!

“Chet? What are you doing?”

What was I doing? Possibly nosing up against one of Bernie’s pockets? Not right, I was pretty sure about that, but wouldn’t you be doing the same thing? Open a door, you get a treat. What was I missing? I tried to remember one single time when –

“Chet! For God’s sake!”

– from THE IGGY CHRONICLES, VOL 1 (a C&B e-short – 99 cents!)

Share

Chetspeak On Sunday

39 Comments »

June 12th, 2016 Posted 8:41 am

Old Mr. Parsons knocked on our door. I was lying in the front hall, eyes closed and not really in the mood to open them even though Mr. Parsons was a good buddy. Mr. Parsons had a knock all his own, quiet yet bony, but I’d already known it was him just from the slow bumpitty bump of his steps – he used a walker, couldn’t make it much easier for me than that – and of course how could you miss his old man smell, kind of like stacks of yellowed crumbing newspapers we’d once toppled over, me and Bernie, revealing a perp whose name escapes me – although no perp ever escapes me and Bernie, not in the end – and … and where were we going with this? Easy to lose the thread sometimes: once I had one caught way up inside my mouth. It dangled down and tickled my tongue in a bothersome way. But not now: no thread worries, no worries of any kind. A lovely dream featuring snacks and treats was getting ready to take me in.

– from THE IGGY CHRONICLES, VOLUME 1 (the second C&B e-short).

Share

The Books



powered by wordpress | site by bakermedia