Posts Tagged ‘To Fetch A Thief’

Chetspeak on Sunday


January 15th, 2017 Posted 9:22 am

Back home, Bernie filled my water bowl and went into the bedroom. I lapped some up and followed him. “Hate sleeping in the daytime,” he said, lying on the bed, still in his clothes. He rolled over and fiddled with the alarm clock. “One hour, tops.” He lay back, closed his eyes. I wasn’t really in the mood for this, felt like a hike in the canyon out back, or a game of fetch, or even a quick walk up and down the street. But Bernie looked so tired, and that strange zigzag line was showing on his forehead again, like maybe he was in some kind of pain. I backed out of the bedroom, went into the hall, looked out the side window, and there was Iggy, in his side window. He jumped up, front paws on the glass, excited to see me – Iggy was a good pal. I got up on my hind legs, too. Iggy went yip-yip-yip, that high-pitched bark that annoyed all the neighbors, except for us, of course. I started to bark back, but then swallowed it – or most of it, or at least some of it – thinking of Bernie. Then old Mr. Parsons appeared behind Iggy, and said something that I could tell was all about knocking it off and getting away from that damned window. Iggy kept yipping and jumping up and down and wagging his stubby tail. Mr. Parsons went away, then came back with – hey! with a chew strip, a real big one. He waved it in front of Iggy’s nose and walked away. That was the end of all the yipping, jumping and wagging; Iggy turned from the window and scuttled after old Mr. Parsons. I wanted that chew strip real bad.

“Chet!” Bernie called from the bedroom. “Cool it.”



Chetspeak on Sunday


December 11th, 2016 Posted 8:39 am

After a long long time we left the Valley, which goes on forever in all directions, and entered open country. The sky turned from dark pink to black and the stars came out. “A hundred billion stars in the Milky Way,” Bernie said, “maybe even twice that number. And a hundred billion galaxies in the universe. So what are we doing?”

What were we doing? We were tailing a real bad guy who’d hurt us with a baseball bat and we were going to bring him down. Bernie had to know that, right?

We crossed the desert, dark and empty, except for occasional distant towns, like baskets of lights. Why I mention baskets of lights is because once when Leda was decorating the Christmas tree – always an exciting time for me, and I end up outside – the lights were all coiled up in a basket and Bernie plugged them in for a test. This was back when Bernie and Leda were still sort of getting along, before that breakfast where she took a sip of coffee and said, “This isn’t working for me.” At first I thought it was something about the coffee, and so did Bernie.



Chetspeak on Sunday


November 27th, 2016 Posted 8:52 am

“How about Peanut?” Bernie said. “Does she have any enemies?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Not really,” Bernie said. “But if she does, look out.”

“Why is that?”

“Because an elephant never forgets.”

Whoa right there. An elephant never forgets? Had I heard that before? Couldn’t quite recall. What was Bernie saying? Not that elephants are in some way better than – ? My mind dug in its heels, wouldn’t go any further in that direction.



Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!


November 24th, 2016 Posted 8:42 am

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.

– from To Fetch A Thief.


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