Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Vegas’

Cages

Lt. Stine got off the phone. “That was Vegas PD,” he said to Bernie. “They confirm you reported the Albie Rose homicide.”

Bernie nodded. He’s a great nodder, had all sorts of nods. This one meant … not sure what, but he wasn’t happy.

“But over the phone and kind of lacking in detail,” said Lt. Stine. “They want to talk to you.”

“Happy to talk to them,” Bernie said.

“Like now,” said Lt. Stine. “They suggested I detain you.”

Detain? Didn’t know that one, but for some reason I started thinking about this cage down in Mexico – is that in To Fetch A Thief? The next thing I knew I was pretty close to Lt. Stine.

“Hey!” he said. “Is Chet growling at me? What the hell? I thought we were friends, big guy.”

Me, too.

Last Full Measure

As we pulled out of the abandoned housing development I picked up that scent again and started barking.

“Yeah, I know,” Bernie said. “I don’t want to go to Vegas either.”

We were going to Vegas? Was that why I was barking? No. It was the scent. I barked some more.

“Easy, boy,” said Bernie. He glanced over at me. “Hungry, by any chance?”

Actually, I was. I stopped barking, began thinking of different kinds of food. What a world, just chock full of different kinds of food, although chalk itself turned out not to be food, as I’d discovered once, and then again, and maybe a few more times.

Soon we parked at a convenience store. Bernie went in and got milk bones for me and a roast beef sandwich for him. And part of it for me, when it ended up he couldn’t finish, or something liked that. “I see the look in your eye,” Bernie said. Roast beef: what can I say?

We drove to Vegas. Bernie was very quiet and a bit sad. That doesn’t happen often. I squeezed a little closer to him. He gave me a pat. “Memorial Day, Chet,” he said.

We remember.

Albie Rose

“Changed your mind?” Albie Rose said. He was this old guy with hard eyes I didn’t like at all. Last time he’d been wearing a tiny bathing suit. Now he was dressed in a track suit, although he didn’t look like much of a runner to me. The fastest human I ever met was this NFL dude we did a job for once, all about some missing trophy, and that led to complications I can’t remember exactly, but bling was involved. The NFL dude was fast and he knew it. What he didn’t know but found out the day he and I had a little race, was that he was fast for a human. I ran circles around him, real tight ones. We had fun! Or maybe it was just me: he looked kind of sour at the end. That human sour look? Not my favorite.

But back to Albie Rose. We were in Vegas.

“Changed my mind about what?” Bernie said.

“Working for me,” said Albie Rose. “I could use someone like you.”

“That’s the problem,” Bernie said. “We don’t like being used, Chet and I.”

I growled, not sure why.

No Post Today (Again)

Still too much digital wackiness, Bernie says.

“Did you see what went on in comments yesterday?” Admin says.

“Some funny dudes down there,” says Spence. “One in particular. And I kind of sensed weird things going on here at HQ.”

“Not me,” says Admin.

“Then maybe it was a dream,” Spence says. “Although in dreams begins responsibility, as they say.”

“Not they, exactly,” says Admin. “Did we get a fix on what went on in Vegas yesterday?”

“Nope.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cl9t90y4BKs