In all honesty, there was only one inexorable force that pulled us all to the New River Gorge, and his name is
aka Bacon, aka "Offisa Pup," or the Tennessee Turd-tail, Chet is a dog among dogs. I have to be careful how much I rave, since my sweet Grace is in her usual spot, under the computer desk in the place where my feet would go, if there wasn't an 85 pound Rottweiler there. Still, present company excluded, I can't think of a nicer, sweeter, funnier, more wonderful dog than the Baconator.
While Chet has been known to shred a toy or two in his time, he is discriminating.
Offisa Pup, the Mayor of Opossum Creek, takes his duties seriously. Any rogue chippitymunks in the area know that the Boss Dog is back in town.
Getting a photo of Chet in motion is difficult for amateurs like me. Julie's camera must have an extra-special shutter setting, called "Chet-speed."
Of course, Chet has his Fan Club, or rather, his loyal minions, whose duty it is to cater to his every whim.
"Miss Mary, you may now give me that toy. I know you brought it for me, Chet Baker, so hand it over."
"I will now proceed to destroy your offering. It is by this action that you will know your gift was acceptable."
"Mether, please hold me a little closer. I cannot reach Miss Nina in order to kiss her. Of course, she wants Baker kisses. All the ladies want to kiss me."
"She plays hard to get, but I know KatDoc likes it when I stick my tongue in her mouth. Not many people would put up with that sort of thing, but KatDoc is all right. Except when she trims my toenails."photo by Susan
"I love it when Mether sings that pretty pretty song. Mr. Tim, you may continue to massage me while Mether sings to me and only me."
"In fact, I think I will now sing, too. The Swinging Orangutangs are a good band, but they would be better if they would let me sing lead."
"Please hold that microphone closer for my solo."
"Hello, Jeff Gordon's Mom. You are a new person, but I will allow you to admire me, Chet Baker, while I hold court here on the back of Geoff's couch."
Saul and Irene meet Chet Baker, completely unaware of his star status.
Irene: "Hello, little dog. I do not think you are allowed on tables."
CB: "Hello, Mrs. Irene. Yes, indeed, I am allowed on tables, for I am Chet Baker, little CatDog, and my Mether allows me to do pretty much anything I like."
"You may now sit there, supporting me, while I inspect this table for random crumbs of food that need to be eaten."
All good blog posts must come to an end, and this one is no exception.