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How embarrassing! This is the ninth in Spencer Quinn's Chet and Bernie series (if it's not the ninth, don't correct me – I'll be even further embarrassed). How have I lived my very long life in ignorance of so much fun?
I began by cringing at the title. Okay, I'm an English teacher, specialties in rhetoric and literature. May I quickly point out that I got over the title in the first five pages of this novel?
I'm not real big on mysteries featuring dogs (did find one I really appreciate and now I have two), and I for sure wasn't very interested in trying a mystery narrated by the dog. Gack!
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Chet is magnificent. Well, Spencer Quinn is magnificent. Or deranged. He is able to enter into the mental capacity of a dog – come on! – and tell me what's going on from beginning to end. Bernie gets to talk out loud and so do most of the characters but everything, and I mean everything, is filtered through the mental capacity of Chet. And it's so great.
Bernie remembers a country singer named Lotty Pilgrim from years and years ago and he discovers that she is performing in a run-down bar nearby. He can't resist the chance to see and hear her again so he heads over, taking his faithful partner Chet, the dog with unmatched ears, along.
The bar is so seedy that Bernie knows that Lotty's fallen on really hard times so he pulls a $100 bill from his wallet (Chet can't remember what being paid for what they do is or when it's ever happened) and stuffs it into the tip jar on the edge of the stage. Pretty soon, midway through the next song, a creep slides over in the shadows from the pool table to the tip jar, packets the C-note and slithers out of the bar.
Chet notices all of this way before Bernie does. Chet always notices everything way before Bernie does. That's because Chet's a dog and Bernie's a human. Knowing what to do next and what it all means – that's the Bernie part. Chet gets distracted by treats, she dog howling, and treats. Chet points out the situation to Bernie if he can and Bernie points the way. Understanding what's going on is up for grabs but nobody could worship and adore Bernie the way Chet does. That goes without saying.
So they chase the creep all over the countryside in a car chase that Chet totally loves, and when Chet finally gets to sink his teeth into the creep's leg, he wriggles out of his jeans and – ugh, no underwear – runs as fast as he can off into the darkness.
It just gets better and better. I promise.
Every reader needs a summer break from thinking. There's only so much the human brain can manage.
I urge you to get a dose of Chet and Bernie.
§ Diana Borse is retired from teaching English at Texas A&M University-Kingsville and savoring the chance to read as much as she always wanted to.
Reviewed by Diana Borse, June 2019
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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