Chapter 34 - Bonnie and Clyde

According to Boy: Evie and I came to be known as "Bonnie and Clyde" after the third time we were convicted of bank robbery. Actually, I think the papers started calling us that after our third prison break. Fortunately, the statute of limitations has expired for our crimes, and leaves us free as birds today.Of course, I’m joking.

Bonnie and Clyde were the names of our neighbors who lived down the street in Glendale. They were not exactly our neighbors, though. More correctly they were Mister’s neighbors. Bonnie and Clyde were the St. Bernard puppies that lived two doors down. They always played in the backyard behind their apartment. While they were fenced in, they were always in full view of Mister. And he absolutely loved leaning out our window and "talking" to them. While Bonnie and Clyde did not totally ignore Mister, they were most intrigued with their own backyard. Besides, they were puppies.

They each weighed about fifteen pounds; at least that’s what they weighed when they first moved in down the street. I think they gained about one pound a day. Mister was a full-grown Norwegian Elkhound, weighing about forty.

When our neighbors got home in the evening, the first thing they did was to let the puppies out. Mister would be waiting. He would already be at the window, bouncing his front paws on the window sill. When his buddies appeared, he went nuts.

He would not bark—not really. He knew we did not like him to do that. But he could produce the most shrill, high volume whine and then immediately turn to see how strongly we disapproved.

"Mister, be quiet!" I would command.

He would then let escape a small whine in protest, turn, leave the window, and come over to me to seek my approval. Then he would go back to the window. Usually, at that point, he would behave.

We took Mister to the cemetery every evening. Our neighbors took their dogs there as well, usually a little earlier in the evening.

If we happened to spot them ahead of us, we would take a detour and enter from the far end of the cemetery. We knew that by the time we had made our way to the near end, our neighbors would be finished walking their dogs.

Sometimes, unfortunately, Mister would find the piles of golden treasure left behind by his well-fed friends. I had to keep a close eye on him, to keep him out of it.

By the time we moved into the Village, the puppies had gained a lot of weight, probably weighing almost a hundred pounds each, on their way to two hundred plus.

I am just glad I did not have to buy the food for those giants.