The Silence of the Chihuahuas by Waverly Curtis Page B

murder he committed. Conchita’s little sister, Angela, commits a crime herself so she ends up in jail as well, smuggling in the evidence that Conchita needs to prove her innocence.
    â€œThat’s not a bad plan, Pepe,” I said as I watched the drama unfold while I sipped my second cup of Darjeeling. “But how would I get into Forest Glen?”
    He gave a sharp bark.
    â€œI wish you would talk to me,” I said. “I miss our conversations.”
    Pepe just sat there looking at me. And that’s when I realized that I could probably get into Forest Glen through a referral from my counselor. She had been suggesting I check myself into a facility ever since I adopted Pepe and he started talking to me.
    I picked up the phone and left a message on her answering machine. Then I went to my computer and looked for information about the price of a week spent at Forest Glen. Nothing. Apparently you had to have a private conversation with one of their facilitators.
    I called Forest Glen and scheduled an appointment for 3 p.m. for an assessment. The phone rang as soon as I hung up. It was Suzanna returning my call. I told her that I was considering checking myself into Forest Glen and that I had scheduled an assessment.
    â€œGeri, this is wonderful!” Suzanna said. “I’m proud of you for taking this step.”
    â€œDo you think they will let me bring my dog?” I asked.
    â€œYou know, I can call them and make a referral. I will strongly suggest that Pepe is an integral part of your recovery and should be there with you.”
    â€œThanks, Suzanna,” I told her.
    â€œGood. I’ll phone Forest Glen right away. Does that sound good?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œAnd do I have your permission to fax them your records upon request?”
    When I agreed, Suzanna said, “Remember, even if things get a little rough while you’re there, think about how great it will be to have a normal relationship with your dog again. Won’t that be nice?”
    â€œIt sure will,” I told her. Then we said goodbye and rang off.
    Pepe seemed disappointed when I interrupted his TV watching. I was surprised to see he was no longer watching Paraiso Perdido . It took me a moment to realize what he was watching: One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest . Nurse Ratchet filled the screen, a giant needle in her hand and a sinister smile on her lips.
    â€œVery funny, Pepe!” I said, grabbing the remote and shutting off the TV.

Pepe’s Blog: How to Communicate with Humans
    I’m going to take a break for the moment from my usual advice on detecting to talk about a subject that is much on my mind these days: the clumsiness of communicating with humans. I had forgotten how obtuse they are. They seem to require the most obvious clues before they are able to discern what we want. We must escalate to a sharp reprimand of a bark, a lively dance in front of the food dish, or a vigorous scratching at the front door to get their attention to attend to our basic needs.
    I am trying to communicate through the television shows I choose and these blog posts, but my partner remains clueless, seeing the television simply as a vehicle for mindless entertainment. For instance, she likes to watch something called Downton Abbey and cries over the perils of life as a maidservant in a mansion. I have much more entertaining stories about my life as a servant; for instance, the time when I was employed as an assistant concierge at a hotel in Cabo San Lucas. Those tourists could get very irritable if a little dog did not deliver the right brand of tequila for their margaritas.
    Until recently, I was able to use words with Geri because she had the ability to hear me. Now that I am reduced to the same communication channels as other dogs, I often get frustrated. Geri tries hard. I can see that. She is so eager to please. It is one of the things you must love about humans. That and their loyalty.
    All in all,