Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘To Fetch A Thief’

Down on the Border

Mexico came up this week on account of Cinco de Mayo and we posted a little snippet from To Fetch A Thief. Mexico factors into the Chet and Bernie series and so do border towns. This is from Heart of Barkness:

Tesabe looked to be very small, with just one paved street and a few dirt roads running off it. We rode up a steep, curving hill, not seeing a single human, member of the nation within, or even a chicken, and this was the kind of place where you’d expect a chicken or two. I didn’t even hear any buzzing flies. They called this a border town?

 

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

All of a sudden a woman called out from the nearest ramshackle house: “Lola! Donde estas? Lola?”

Lola? A cool name, but the interruption was inconvenient. A flashlight went on, and the beam began sweeping the yard.

“Lola! What the hell?” The beam passed over us, came back, and stayed, circling us in bright light. “Dios mio! Aqui!” Very inconvenient, because we were occupied. And then just like that – in the way the very best things can sneak up on you – we weren’t! Lola scooted away and took off toward the house, glancing back once. Those small watchful eyes: I’d never seen anything quite like them. The next moment something got thrown at me, missing by a mile, whatever that was. “Perro malo – vayase!” Meaning what? Not sure, but I caught the tone and ambled off. I felt tip-top, just about the highest tip-top I can feel. It was great to be south of the border down Mexico way.

Super Bowl Creatures: Bengals vs. Rams

Normally on Sunday we take a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™ but since it’s Super Bowl Sunday and tigers and rams are involved we thought of To Fetch A Thief, the Chet and Bernie novel involving a sketchy circus and an elephant named Peanut. In this book Chet encounters tigers:

The cages stood in a row. They were like big boxes, with roofs and walls, the only barred part being the fronts. The smells hit me first, so strong, some a bit cat-like, but to the nth degree, whatever that means. And then the sights: oh, boy. Creatures I’d seen on Animal Planet: tigers and lions and –

Actually, in the first cage, just two tigers, and in the next cage, only one lion, and in the last cage, nothing. The tigers and the lion had big rubber balls to play with but they weren’t playing. They just lay on the floor and watched us with huge yellow eyes. The fur on my neck stood right up; their fur, now that I noticed it, looked kind of dull and ratty. Bernie opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he didn’t speak; he got a hard look on his face.

AND – Chet also encounters goats, not too distant from rams:

I didn’t like that ACK-ACK-ACK bleat, didn’t like that wispy beard – don’t like wispy beards on anybody – and there were probably other unlikable goat things, but before I could get to them he was charging at me again. This time I was ready.

Makes a difference, doesn’t it, Senor Goat? That was my thought as I stood over him a moment later. He lay on the ground, looking kind of stupid, in my opinion.

 

Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!

Rick Torres crouched under a strip of tape, came toward us, shook hands with Bernie. “Hey, Chet,” he said, and gave me a pat. “Lookin’ good. Is he still growing, Bernie?”

“Hardly seems possible,” Bernie said. “This is my son Charlie. Shake hands with Sergeant Torres, Charlie.”

Rick held out his hand. Charlie gazed down at the ground.

“I won’t bite,” Rick said. Of course he wouldn’t! Hardly any humans did, their little teeth not being much of a weapon. I did remember a perp named Clancy Green chomping on some other perp’s arm, but that was on a Halloween night, the only holiday I don’t like – Halloween brings out the worst in people, Bernie says. Thanksgiving is my favorite, except for that one time with the drumstick incident, maybe a story for another day.