Chet is a big black dog with one white ear. His partner is Bernie Little, a wounded war veteran and ardent environmentalist. Together they run the Little Detection Agency somewhere “in the valley” in Arizona.

Chet and Bernie are the characters in a series of mystery books written by Spencer Quinn, which is the pen name of Peter Abrahams, an Edgar award-winning writer. I, however, strongly suspect Abrahams is really a dog cleverly masquerading as a human.

Of these books, Stephen King says, “Without a doubt, the most original mystery series currently available.” I totally concur.

I’ve just finished my eleventh book, “Tender is the Bite”, and it is a witty delight like all the books in the series. Every word in every book is written from the dog’s point of view. How Mr. Abrahams got so totally into the mind of a dog is the real mystery here.

I have never had a dog, but I love dogs and have known many. I have no doubt whatsoever that these books unlock the workings of a dog’s mind. (And that is why I have never had a dog. They need “their person” around all the time, and I can’t be there 24/7 for a dog. Road trips happen.)

Here are a few excerpts directly from Chet’s brain. If you are a lover of dogs, I’m fairly sure you will smile as you read them. And you might want to give the Chet and Bernie books a try.

“We took the ramp onto the freeway, headed to the orange tip of the sun, just over the edge of…of whatever the edge is, where you can’t see any farther. The edge itself is very hard to get to – in all our time on the road we’d never quite reached it. There’s lots to look forward to in life.”

“I think we’re being followed,” Bernie said. “We were creeping along at walking speed on the East Canyon Freeway at rush hour, stuck in an endless river of traffic. Of course we were being followed, followed by too many cars to count! Not only too many for me to count- I don’t go past two- but also for Bernie. And Bernie’s always the smartest man in the room, one of the reasons the Little Detective Agency is so successful, leaving out the finances part.”

“There was a bowl of kibble with- oh how nice- some crumbled biscuit treat mixed in waiting for me in the kitchen. Can you go from feeling no hunger to being out of your mind with it in no time flat? Oh, but yes! Try it sometime!.”

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An extreme example of dimorphism occurred in one of our bird feeders yesterday. Mr. and Mrs. Grosbeak both landed simultaneously to have lunch. Anyone not versed in bird species would never guess that these two were mates. Dad is a striking black and white with a flaming scarlet dickie. Mom looks like a brown sparrow with a weight problem.

The dictionary defines dimorphism as “the differences in appearance between males and females of the same species, such as color, shape, size and structure. The word is from the Greek “di” (two) and “morpho” (form or shape).

Many species of birds are dimorphic, and it’s the gentlemen who are the eye-catching ones. This is not to give bird-watchers a thrill: it’s all about luring a mate. Cardinals and orioles are obvious examples. The goldfinches are as well until the mating season ends. Then the boys molt their brilliant yellow feathers for drab winter apparel.

Although we humans are not an example of extreme dimorphism, other mammals do fall into that category. Lions may be the first to come to mind, but elephant seals probably should get the trophy. The guys are a whopping five times bigger than the girls, and they have bulbous noses to help them make loud roars when courting.

Dimorphism in insects is common as well, with the females often being substantially larger than the males. It’s theorized that the ladies need the body mass to hold all the eggs they produce.

However, a fish probably displays the most bizarre of all the dimorphic variants. The midnight zone anglerfish is 60 times the length and half a million times the weight of her male. She has small eyes and a long lure ending in a light that projects out of her head. The teensy male has big eyes and a well-developed sense of smell. These features help him find his true love in the basement of the ocean. He then attaches his body to hers, tapes into her circulatory system and stays there for the rest of his life. This process is known as sexual dimorphic parasitism. For all my female friends out there, it is best not to think about this too much.

I never imagined I would be writing a post about Tricky Dick. However, I just learned a fascinating piece of information about our 37th President, Richard M. Nixon, that begs to be shared.

But first, some background information. Nixon, a California native, began his long political career when he won seats in the House of Representatives and then the Senate. He went on to appear on a National Presidential ticket five times. Nixon and Franklin D. Roosevelt are the only ones who ever accomplished this and, coincidentally, they both won four of their five races. Nixon was Eisenhower’s VP for two terms, lost the Presidency to John Kennedy in 1960 and won the Presidency in 1968 and 1972.

His most famous speech was the “Checkers” speech. This was a brilliant appeal that “I am not a crook” for accepting large political donations and gifts. These were not illegal at the time, but he was campaigning as a corruption fighter. He emphatically stated that if he were kept on Eisenhower’s ticket as V.P., he would keep one gift, Checkers, his black and white Cocker Spaniel.

Here is what I recently learned about Richard Nixon, and it is extremely telling about his character. Oenophiles, wine connoisseurs, use the phrase, “pulling a Nixon”. This term comes as the result of a habit of our 37th President, a lover of extremely expensive wines. He was infamous for drinking first-growth Bordeaux, (Chateau Margaux being his favorite) while simultaneously serving his guests cheap wines. He instructed the White House waiters to hold the napkin over the label of the cheap wines as they filled the glasses.

Least you think that this story is an urban myth that I, a card-carrying Democrat, have dredged up, it is not. I have done due diligence with fact checking and Nixon’s stingy habit is well documented.

“Tricky Dick” earned his nickname in many ways. Thanks go to my nephew, who knows a good wine when he meets it, for telling me about “pulling a Nixon”.

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