A package arrived at about 2 pm, and Chet's eyes twinkled when he saw me carrying it. His ears perked up and he began to dance. He figures anything that comes in the mail is for him. Wonder why?
No, no, Chet Baker. You may not open this. You have to wait until everyone's home, and I will make a video of you opening it. So you wait.
And I put it on the kitchen table. Aww, Mether. Why?
Because. You wait. Don't you open that package.
Just before dinner, I came into the kitchen carrying my little Canon G-12. Without my saying a word, Chet put two and two together. She has the camera. Ergo, I now get to open that mystery package. I'm tellin' ya. By the time a smart dog is eight years old, he's got your number. He knows everything about you, and forget hiding anything from him. You're like an old married couple.
So I apologize, because this video is irreparably marred by the sound of my cackling from start to finish. Because I think everything Chet Baker does, with the exception of his noisome emanations, is funny. Obviously. So turn your speakers DOWN and enjoy the endless and unedited raw footage of Chet Baker being Chet Baker.
Thank you, Dee, for this wonderful hand-made gift. You hit the mark!