Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe - Man and Beast - Arthur the Dog & Dave the Dog Walker

Episode Date: February 13, 2026

“He wanted to be alone so he could try the beef-flavoured toothpaste”On this week’s episode: two fan favourites: stories about some of the sweetest characters in the Vinyl Cafe universe – the animals!Ad-free listening is here! Listen to the pod ad-free and early, PLUS a whole bunch of other goodies – like virtual parties, Q&As, listener shout-outs & more. Subscribe here: apostrophe.supercast.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

From the apostrophe podcast network. Hello, I'm Jess Milton, and this is backstage at the Vinyl Cafe. Welcome. Today on the pod, we've got two fan favorites. Two Dave and Morley stories about some of the sweetest characters in the vinyl cafe universe, The Animals. We're going to start with this one. And this is Arthur the dog.

At 5 in the morning on a sticky Tuesday night in July, Dave woke up sweating. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to find he was alone. He found Morley downstairs sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. I was hot, she said. Me too, said Dave. It was cool downstairs. In fact, it was cool everywhere in the house except for their bedroom. I don't get it, said Dave.

I'll call a guy again. The furnace guy came after lunch. He kneeled by the vent in the floor of their bedroom. He was there for five minutes. It's working, he said, accusingly. For this, he charged them $50. But he was right. When you held your hand over the floor vent, you could feel it, the cool air.

But every night they woke up hot. This was the second time the furnace guy had examined the vent in Dave's bedroom in less than a year. He was there in the winter, too. In February, for the same problem, or almost the same problem, this July, Dave's bedroom felt heavy and damp, the hottest room in the house. Last February, Dave and Morley kept waking up freezing. In February, when the furnace guy came,

he held his hand over the vent and he said, hot air, like they were crazy. And then, because Dave insisted, he vacuumed the vent, half an hour, $75. dollars. And still, all winter they kept waking up cold, and now in the summer they were waking up hot. It was Sam who figured it out. One night Dave found Sam sitting on the vent in their bedroom. What are you doing? said Dave. It feels good, said Sam, the cool air. It's where Arthur sleeps. Arthur the dog. Arthur the plug. Arthur the sleeping machine. When he was, when he was, he was,

was a puppy, Arthur used to sleep on Dave and Morley's bed. When he got bigger, they tried to stop this, but soon found they had a battle on their hands, soon found that no dog in the world was more determined or skilled at insinuating himself into a bed than Arthur. He wouldn't start the night there. He'd start the night on the floor. But as soon as Dave and Morley were breathing rhythmically, Arthur would creep into their bedroom, keeping low to the ground, as if he were hunting. If he didn't like the way one of them was breathing, Arthur would bring his face right up to theirs and stare at them, like a priest taking confession. His wet nose maybe six inches away. Once he was satisfied, they were asleep, Arthur would lift one paw slowly up onto the bed

and place it there without moving another muscle. And if no one stirred, the other paw would go up just as slowly, and then even slower, like a monster rising from a swamp. Arthur would pull his body onto the bed and settle near their feet with a sigh, taking at first as little space as possible, but slowly unfolding and expanding as the night wore on, as if he were being inflated. He liked to work his body between theirs and his way towards the pillows. A few days later, Dave read the Reader's Digest while he was waiting in line to pay for groceries. Is your pet the boss? There was a test. Dave drove home, unpacked the frozen foods, and threw them in the freezer. He called Arthur. The test was straightforward. He was to get down on all fours and stare at his dog. If Dave was dominant,

Arthur would turn away. If Arthur stared back, it meant Arthur considered Dave to be his inferior. Dave dropped to his knees. The thing that makes bad news worse, the thing that makes bad news worse is when it comes unexpectedly. Arthur had always been, well, if not, considerate, at least obedient. Arthur may have pushed the limits, but unlike Sam and Stephanie, he usually did what he was told. When Dave stared at Arthur, he fully expected him to turn tail. He had harbored the possibility of a little staring match. What he hadn't considered was that his dog would hold his gaze for a full minute, then curl his lips, begin to growl, and begin to walk menacingly towards him. Arthur, said Dave.

Before the alarming silence resolved, Morley walked into the kitchen, and Dave looked up at her, or more to the point, away from Arthur. and the moment was over. But Dave's perception of the world had altered fundamentally. On Saturday night after dinner, Morley said, Who wants to go out for ice cream? Sam said, yes. And then he said, ice cream, Arthur?

Now, ice cream happens to be Arthur's favorite thing in the world. His backside began to twist towards his head, and his tail started wagging furiously, and he crab walked across the kitchen to Sam. the picture of a dog in heaven. Dave said, let's go to the Dutch place. Sam said ice cream, Arthur, and Arthur's eyes started to roll back in his head, and that's when Morley said Dave, Arthur doesn't like the Dutch place. They don't have soft ice cream there. They went to the dairy queen. They took a bowl for Arthur's ice cream. Dave watched him snorting it down, ice cream all over the dog's face,

said to Morley, don't you think this is kind of peculiar? But she didn't understand what he meant. She looked at him strangely. Later in the week, Dave came home from work early, and he dug out the baseball mitts, and he said, where's Sam? He thought they could go to the park. He thought they could throw the ball before supper. Sam was in the yard.

He had Arthur tied to his wagon, pulling it up and down the sidewalk. I'm busy, he said. I don't want to play ball now. And Arthur gave Dave a look that seemed to say, But out, buddy. The next night, Dave said he'd make French fries for dinner, but there were no potatoes. Check, Arthur's basket, said Morley.

Dave said, what? Now, when he's alone in the house, Arthur steals potatoes. Somehow, and no one knows how he does this because no one has ever seen him do it, but somehow he can paw open the cupboard door where the potatoes are kept. And once he gets it open, it's easy enough to get at the potatoes,

which Morley keeps there, although once, when faced with an unopened bag, Arthur managed to break it open, and no one could figure out how he did that either. Anyway, when he gets a hold of them, he doesn't eat the potatoes. He carries them across the kitchen and drops them in his basket,

and he sits on them. There's something about the feeling of being near raw potatoes that Arthur likes. The night he was trying to make the French fries, Dave found five potatoes in Arthur's basket. Five's enough, said Morrill. You mean, said Dave, that you use potatoes that Arthur slept on? You're telling me I have eaten potatoes from the dog's basket?

The final straw came a week ago. It was a week ago that Dave found the socks. He was looking for potatoes, and he uncovered a stash of socks instead. Ten single unmatched socks stuffed under the blanket of Arthur's basket. Dave stood in the kitchen holding the socks in disbelief. it was like finding an elephant's graveyard. He went through the pile one by one. Nine of the socks were his.

He had already thrown their partners out. He looked at Arthur and horror. You, he said. Arthur as much as shrugged as he walked out of the room. Sam thought this was funny. Morally thought Dave was overreacting. Stephanie said, Why don't you just buy new socks?

What's the big deal? Dave said that's not the point. Maybe if someone in the family had taken his side, but no one took his side. And that night Dave worked out what Arthur was costing them. Food, vet bills, shots, boarding when they went away, except they never went away because they didn't want to leave Arthur. Potatoes. Dave said, you know what he has cost us in potatoes? Dave said, where's the cost benefit here? Morley said, I don't want to hear this, Dave. Why don't you work out what the children cost? Dave said, this is not a healthy relationship. Morley said, that's for sure. Dave said, name me one useful thing that dog can do. Morley said he can shake hands.

Dave said, you know what he is? He's a wolf. He is one small, evolutionary step away from a wolf. Are you telling me you want to live with a wolf who can shake hands? On the weekend, Dave went to Canadian. made the entire and bought an aluminum doghouse. Arthur went out into the yard. Dave said it's where the dog belongs, not Arthur, not where Arthur belongs, as if he didn't know his name, as if they hadn't lived together for five years. During dinner, Arthur stood by the door and whimpered, Dave said, no one say a word. On Monday, Dave bought home a bag of huge beef bones, and he threw one into the backyard and the rest in the freezer. Arthur fell onto his bone with wolf fish delight. See, said Dave? But at dinner, Arthur was back at the door whimpering. Morley said, eat your sausage, Sam. Sam said, I hate sausage. Morley said, you don't hate sausage. Stephanie said,

he usually feeds his sausages to Arthur. Sam hit Stephanie. Dave smiled triumphantly. Tuesday night at supper, when Arthur appeared at the back door, he was holding his paw up to his chest. He looked like a beggar. Morley said he looks pathetic. He looks like he's being beaten up. Dave said he's faking. Arthur turned and limped back to his doghouse. Dave said, I'm not falling for that. On Wednesday, Dave said, he's just trying to get our sympathy. Sam said, I can't stand this. I hate Trout. And he left the table. Morley said he's always like Trout before. On Thursday night when Dave took Arthur for his walk, the limp was more pronounced. On Friday, after a block Arthur sat down and wouldn't budge, Dave had to carry him home.

The clerk at the clinic handed Dave a form. He said it's $75 for the examination. Treatment, if he need shots or anything, it's extra. Dave paid the $75. The clerk said the vet was doing an emergency operation. It could be a while. The clerk said, you have to fill out the form while I weigh him. The clerk took Arthur into the examination room.

He came back and under a minute and he handed Dave Arthur's collar. He had his front foot shoved through his collar, said the clerk. I don't know how he managed that. I had to cut it off. It's funny he could even walk. At that moment, the vet walked into the front office and looked around who's next, he said. Arthur was standing by Dave staring at his paws if he had never seen it before. Dave looked down at his dog and followed him into a small examining room.

What's the problem? said the vet. Dave said, I just wanted you to check him over. He's being a little listless lately. He looked down at Arthur. His tail was wagging. He looked anything but listless. The vet lifted him onto the examiner. table, looked into his ears, his eyes, his mouth, listened to his heart. Seems fine now, he said,

do you have air conditioning at home? It hasn't been working properly at night, said Dave. It could be the heat, said the vet. Keep him out of the sun. Give him lots of water. Outside, Arthur looked up at Dave, his tail wagging. Just before they pulled out of the parking lot, he licked Dave's hand. They passed a dairy queen on the way home. Dave pulled over. Dave had a vanilla milkshake. Arthur had a soft cone with chocolate covering. The next night at supper, Sam said, how come Arthur's allowed in the house again? Because, said Dave, because I think he's learned his lesson. Now you eat your sausages. Thank you. That was Stuart McLean with the story we call Arthur the dog. We're going to take a short break now, but we'll be back in a couple of minutes with another Dave and Morley story.

So stick around. Welcome back. Time for our second story now. More canine capers. This is a story we recorded in Montreal, Quebec. This is Dave the Dog Walker. Began on one of those glorious spring days, a day full of sun and hope. One of those days that arrives with promises of resurrection and rebirth of redemption and, well, if we're going to keep the ours rolling.

Relief, said Dave. Feeling of relief, we made it through another winter. Dave was standing on his neighbor's porch, his dog Arthur sniffing at something at his feet, and Bert Turlington standing beside him zipping up his blue windbreaker. Ever since the Turlington's got their dog, a teacup Pomeranian, named Tissue, Mary's idea, not Burt's. It's been Bert's habit to join Dave and his dog Arthur on their nightly walk. They walk up to the park, and when the weather's agreeable, they circle it endlessly, around and around like a sentence with no period, talking or not talking, allowing the dogs to insert the punctuation, which instead of commas and hyphens comes as fence posts and fire hydrants, or as was the case on this evening, a shrub, which Dave's dog Arthur was sniffing with great intensity. Suddenly Arthur stopped and looked up at Bert and barked, more a grunt than a bark really,

a soft grunt that came from deep in his throat. Bert squinted at Arthur. Bert said, you shore. And Arthur's tail started to wag, and Bert shrugged said, okay. And he unzipped his jacket and reached in and pulled out a little ball of fluff. Bert was carrying tissue in a snugly.

Tissue tires easily. Bert set tissue down and she shook herself, yapped, ran over to Arthur, sniffed the shrub, walked in a circle three times, and prepared herself for business. When she was done, Bert bent over, scooped her up, and gave Arthur a pat.

How does he know that, said Bert? Every night he picks her spot. It was on their way home. The Dave offered to take care of tissue during spring break. Bert and Mary were taking the twins to Costa Rica. Well, actually, they were taking the whole family. Last year, they left Adam home alone. That was a mistake.

Although Adam got the house more or less back together for their return, and there were things he had to leave until his parents got home, the broken hall banister, for one. There were things he overlooked, most unfortunately, a frat house tower of empties in the garage. Mary wasn't prepared to come home to a house in that kind of condition again. Mary wasn't prepared to let Adam stay home alone. Adam was coming with them, no arguments, and tissue was going to get a dog sitter. We can look after tissue, said Dave. Honestly, it wouldn't be a problem. No big deal. And so it was agreed. And once it was, how could Dave say no when word got around as word always does? And Carl Loebbeer called and asked about Preston. I heard you were looking after tissue, said Carl. We just hate the idea of a candle and we were wondering, no problem, said Dave. Preston, a labradoodle. Would be more of a handful than tissue, no doubt about that. But tissue is so well.

small and eager that, well, like Dave said, she hardly counted. Well, that's what I thought, said Carl. By the time spring break arrived and Dave counted up, he'd agreed to look after four dogs. So when Polly Anderson called, really, what difference did a fifth make? Five dogs, said Morley. Well, six, if you count Arthur, said Dave, but you can't count Arthur. He lives here anyway, and tissue hardly counts either. So four dogs, technically. Living here, said Morley. Well, only for a week, said Dave. A week, said Morley.

Well, said Dave, 10 days, technically. But that's if you count weekends. Six dogs. Number one being Arthur, Dave's dog. A mutt of sorts. A sort of lavish retriever. Long hair, short hair combo. Kind of a bigish dog in a smallish way.

Sleeps on the heat vents, likes ice cream. Two, tissue, the Turlington's Pomeranian. Bird had been agitating for a dog for years. Bird had been thinking, chocolate lab. Tissue is no lab. In fact, she's not much bigger than a squirrel. Tissue is a pure bread princess, pink leather collar, the snugly. The day they left for the South, Mary brought her over with a crate load of stuff,

blankets, bowls, stuffed toys, and little collection. of outfits, including a little bathing suit, two-piece. She pulled a jar of hand cream out of her purse. It's made from caviar, said Mary, it keeps her paws soft. Massage some in before bed after you shampoo her when you do her nails, and if you're leaving her alone for more than 15 minutes. Then she handed Dave a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, beef flavored. Mary said, here are some Q-tips for her ears. She's allergic to dust. Keep her out of the basement. Dave's

sitting there nodding earnestly. She'll be fine, he said. Mary, since Dave wanted her to leave, he was standing up, he was walking her toward the door, and she was absolutely right. He did want her gone. He wanted to be alone so he could try the beef-flavored toothpaste. Mary was almost out the door when she stopped and turned. I almost forgot. She said, I got you something. And she held out a life-sized silhouette of a bird, a hawk. You can put it in the back window, she said. It'll keep birds from flying into the window by accident. We were having trouble in the living room. I put one up there. It seems to be working. And then she was gone. Come on, tissue, said Dave. Let's go brush our teeth. Arthur paddled on behind him. Arthur seemed pleased to have tissue there. It was like a

grade five sleepover or something. So that's how it started with Arthur one and two tissue. Three was summer, Portuguese water dog, afraid of water. Summer came with a little rubber coat and booties, a garbage hound. She'll eat anything, said Brian, when he dropped summer off. Three, summer, four, Preston, a labradoodle. Bird crazy. Although what exactly Preston loved about birds, Carl didn't make clear interested in birds. Just be careful around birds, said Carl, ominously.

Three was summer. four, Preston, five, Nunu, Polly Anderson's Cocker Spaniel, who pees when she gets excited. But all cocker's do that, said Polly. And what would she possibly get excited about, said Morley? Exactly, said Dave, how many is that? That's five, said Morley. There's another, said Dave. The one with a leather choose. Leather, said Morley. Raw hide, said Dave. Raw hide shoes, said Morley, sounding relieved. No, raw hides his name, said Dave, the chews are leather. I never even heard of rawhide, said Morley. They're new people, said Dave.

I've never met them, said Morley. And we have their dog? Just for a week, said Dave. Well, okay, ten days. The dog started to arrive early on Sunday afternoon. At first, Arthur seemed excited as they got there. But as the afternoon wore on, he became increasingly anxious. His tail stopped wagging each time the doorbell rang.

By suppertime, Arthur'd hold himself up at the downstairs bathroom and wouldn't come out. It's understandable. You put six dogs who don't know each other in a house together, any six dogs, any house, and there are going to be moments. And there were no doubt about it. The first walk, just getting out the door was fierce. him. Dave picked up a leash, one of the six leashes in the basket by the door, and Preston, who was sound asleep on the living room, couch, lifted his head, and both his ears flicked up,

but he didn't budge. He was waiting for one more jingle, and there it was. And with a second confirming jingle, Preston went from sound asleep to full speed running and barking. It happened in the blink of an eye. Preston was asleep, and then he wasn't. He was running to the doors if he'd been running for hours. Preston had one thing on his mind, birds. And he wanted to tell everybody birds, barked Preston, birds, birds, birds, and he passed summer on his way to the door

and summer jumped up to garbage, garbage, garbage, burbs, summer, garbage, garbage, garbage, garbage, birds, garbage. The two of them barking right past Noonu, who's asleep in the corner. Nunu joins in a low, she has no idea why she's running. She has no idea what's going on. She's just running, and by the time she's made it to the hall, she's so excited she stopped twice to pee.

In the blink of an eye, five dogs were at the front door, and they're jumping and barking, and Dave is standing there in the middle of them. Arthur, however, was nowhere to be seen. Dave finally found Arthur holed up in the bathroom, had to drag him out, put his leash on him before he could deal with the others. That first walk was a disaster. Second one wasn't much better. Arthur managed to slip loose in the park, settled down under a tree, Dave couldn't budge him, had to come back and get him once he bought the other dogs home. I walk number three, David hardly gone five minutes before he came pounding home again, burst through the front door. I've lost a dog, he said desperately, I'm a dog short.

Morley looked at him calmly. Morley said, you mean rawhide? Who it turns out was happily tucked behind the couch, gnawing on his shoe. not Dave's shoe. Rawhide's owners had left a carton of shoes when they dropped them off. We get them at the Sally Ann, they said. Goes through three or four pairs a week. No doubt about it. Those first few days were difficult.

But slowly Dave began to find his way. Started wearing tissue in the snugly all day long. It's easier this way, he explained one night at dinner. He went shopping, bought himself a mountaineering belt with hooks all the way around. Put the belt on and clipped each dog to a separate hook before a walk. Look at me, said Dave, I'm hands free. Which you'd think might be a good idea. And it worked until he had to bend over and scoop up after one of his dogs.

And as he leaned over and was off balance, the pigeon flooded by. Preston spotted it, barked and lunged, and everyone else joined in for the fun. Preston and the lead, the other five dogs fighting for it. Dave bouncing along behind them like a sled. Took morally 45 minutes and a pair of tweezers to pick the gravel out of his bum. Oh yeah. There were moments. But Dave wasn't about to give up.

That night he lined the dogs up in the hallway. He had them at the far end of the hall by the front. door. He was standing by the kitchen. He was determined to get control. Sit. Sit. Three of them went down like good little soldiers. Summer, Noonu, and Rahide. Arthur went down too, but he went down reluctantly and he went down with a growl. But Preston didn't budge. Sit. Preston just stood there staring at Dave. So Dave went down. Dave dropped down to his hands and knees and he crawled the length of the hall until his face was right against Fresden's snout. Gurr, said Dave. Preston looked horrified. Preston dropped like a rock. I have to establish

dominance, said Dave to Morley, who was watching from the stove. In a way that she never would have expected. Morley was enjoying this. The whole thing had given Dave a sense of responsibility, a sense of seriousness, a sense of direction, a focus that she'd never seen before. Her only real concern was Arthur, who had developed an uncharacteristic melancholy. Dave was standing at the far end of the kitchen now, the dogs lined up by the stove. Stay. Stay. Stay. Okay, come. And this time they came, all of them, a grand scrabbling over the kitchen floor, a scrabbling and a sliding stop

at his feet, their tails thumping like a little dog orchestra. Good dog said Dave, good dogs, slipping each one a tree. Good dogs, yep, said tissue from the snugly, you too, said Dave. I saw him Morley watching. He looked at her and grinned smugly, said they're pack animals.

And I'm the pack leader. Morley found this a little bit, how can I say this? A little bit sexy. And Dave sensed that. And he walked over to her, and he looked her right in the eye, and he said,

who's your alpha dog? So everything was surprisingly fine for a few days. When suddenly it wasn't. By the end of the week, it was pretty clear something was wrong with tissue. Her eyes were red and runny, and so was her nose.

She spent all Thursday on the couch disinterested in anyone, anything. She's allergic to dust, said Dave. My house isn't clean enough for a dog, said Morley. It's Mary's dog, said Dave. I don't want tissue sick when they come home. And that's when Dave decided the best thing he could do would be to take the dogs over to Mary's house and spend the last two nights over there. It's funny, that's exactly what Morley said. It was sort of fun. Dave got to do stuff over there. He'd never get away with it home. On the first night, he grilled a huge steak on the Turlington's indoor barbecue,

and they all sat in front of the television watching the iron chef. Dave and the six dogs, each with their own plate of steak. He got to use the beef-flavored toothpaste every day. It's delicious, he said, to Kenny Wong the first day. It's like brushing your teeth with a hot dog. Best of all, tissue recovered. So everything was ship-shaped for Bert and Mary's return. They were due home just before supper.

Dave spent the afternoon tidying up. He did the dishes. There were dog prints on the kitchen floor. He found a mop and mopped the kitchen floor. Watered Mary's plants. Things were better than ship-shaped. They were perfect. Dave glanced at his watch.

His plan was to take everyone back to his place, but not tissue. His plan was to leave tissue there to welcome Bert and Mary, who were due home in about half an hour. He felt a flush of pride. He had done well. And then summer knocked over a dining room chair. It fell into the dining room wall. It left a long scratch in the paint.

And there was just no way he was going to leave that for Mary to find, not when he was so close to perfect. Went down to the basement and found a stack of paint cans down there. And in the middle of a stack, he found one that had been marked dining room wall. There was a shelf of brushes wrapped neatly and ragged. He grabbed a brush on the can of paint, and he ran upstairs, pried the paint open with a kitchen knife, picked up the brush, and then he put it down. And he gathered the dogs, and he put the dogs on their leashes better, safe than sorry, he said, to Tissue, who was sitting there watching him.

And he led the dogs into the living room, and he tied them to Mary's potted palm. Stay, stay, stay, stay. And he set out a couple of sheets of newspaper on the floor and set the lid. down on the newspaper, it was worth taking a little extra time. It was worth being careful. He got the brush and he touched up the wall, and the

mark disappeared in no time flat. Excellent. Glanced at his watch and ran upstairs, found a hair dryer, and ten minutes later the paint was dry, you could hardly tell, or he could hardly tell. He grinned at tissue, good dog, he said. He was looking for the lid.

Good dog, he said again. But He said it absentmindedly, where was the lid? Tissue barked and stood up. There was the lid. Tissue was sitting on the lid. Her entire back end was soaked in paint. Tissue said Dave, and at the sound of her name, Tissue's tail began to wag. Flex of paint were flying everywhere. Dave caught her as she was heading for the kitchen. He scooped her up and looked around. Mary's dining room looked like a painting by Jackson Pollock.

How was he going to clean this up? up before Mary got home. He ran downstairs and grabbed a jug of turpentine. He came running up, he opened the turpentine, he emptied into a saucepan, and he rushed around, wiping the walls and the floor. He was running out of time. Looked out the window and spotted the Turlington's car coming down the street. He was so close. All it was left was the paint-soaked tissue. Sorry, he said, and he picked tissue up, and he dunked her bum into the liquid. The next bit was a bit of a blur. Put tissue down on the counter, said stay, and he ran into the living room, over to the living room windows,

and he threw open the curtains. And that's when Preston looked up and spotted the silhouette of the hawk that Mary had stuck there. Outside, outside a tan and relaxed, Mary Turlington's. Steped out of the car and smiled at her husband. It's good to be home, said Mary. And that's when the living room window exploded and one, two, three, four, five dogs sailed through it one after another like a circus act.

Nunu spraying everyone as she sailed by. Mary staggered back and brought her hand up to wipe her face. And as she did, the front door burst open and her little dog tissue came running towards her. Tissue's rear end was on fire. That's all right. Dave was right behind her with a fire extinguisher. two days later

nearly midnight the neighborhood quiet Dave and Morley in bed everyone in bed all the dogs safely home the Turlington's house back together Dave put his book down

turned to Morley said well anyway no harm done Morley who was still reading didn't say anything Dave said I mean tissues fine no one died no said Morley no one died and then she said, what's that noise?

It was a far away sort of noise, a moist sort of wet faraway noise. Dave propped himself up on his elbow and frowned. Is it in the wall, he said? I don't know, said Morley. Maybe the closet. Dave got out of bed and stood in the middle of the bedroom listening. He walked over to the closet. Well, they say you can't teach an old dog new train.

They say a lot of things, and not all of the things they say are true. Dave opened his bedroom closet, and there was his old dog, Arthur. Arthur was lying in Dave's closet amidst a pile of sodden leather. Arthur looking for all the world like a gourmet and a fancy restaurant. Arthur looked up at Dave later. Whenever Dave told this story, he'd swear Arthur smiled and burped. Gave me a kind of reproachful look, said Dave. Kind of like he was saying, you owe me, buddy.

And he was right. Gave Dave that look, and then he turned back to the shoe he was holding between his paws, pulling at the soft leather as the saliva ran down his jowls. Dave looked at Arthur and then over at Morley. What is it, she said? Nothing, said Dave. No harm done. said Dave. And he closed the cupboard door gently. And he got into bed and he reached out and turned off

the lamp on the bedside table. And he reached out for his wife and he put his arms around her. Good night, he said. Sleep tight. I love you. Oh my God. Tissue. That name cracks me up every single time. That was the story we called Dave the Dog Walker. We recorded that story at Plaste's in Montreal, Quebec, back in 2010. All right, that's it for today, but we'll be back here next week with more Dave and Morley.

Dave said, we could go the long way, you know, through Maine. Not crossing the border, said Willie. Might be fun, said Dave. Stop and see Big Allen Bangor. Can't cross the border, said Willie. Willie jerking his head toward the back of the truck, can't risk it. Willie used to haul cable in the old days, a grunter, salt of the earth.

But he wasn't a big man, and as the road cases got bigger and heavier and he got older, the work got too hard. Don't get me wrong. Willie could still scramble up into the rafters of any arena, just like a monkey. Just everything got too heavy. He learned the lightboard from freaky bottoms. Got into pyro a couple of years later, early on in the pyro game. I have stuff back there, said Willie. Meaning in the back of the truck.

Dave glanced at his son. Sam was lost in a headphone fog. He frowned at Willie. Willie laughed, shook his head on, not that kind of stuff. What Willie had back there were boxes of pyro left over from the tour he just finished. Well, not exactly the tour. It's complicated, said Willie. They'd been up and down the eastern seaboard, the Carolinas, Virginia, Kentucky.

We stopped in this little town, said Willie, back in the hills. There was a hardware store. You wouldn't believe this place. screen door with a little bell, a wood stove with a little bucket for chew. Guy lived over the store, just him and his dog. And he showed Willie around. Willie loves that sort of thing. And there were boxes of stuff, boxes of it from the 40s and 50s.

What kind of stuff, said Dave? Pyro, said Willie. Never seen anything like it. from a carnival or something, big stuff, show stuff. The problem was it was sort of past its due date. But only by a decade or two, said Willie. That's next week on the podcast. I hope you'll join us. Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe is part of the Apostrophe Podcast Network.

The recording engineer is Greg DeClude, and he really loves that beef-flavored toothpaste. Theme music is by Danny Michelle, and the show is produced by Louise Curtis, Greg DeClute, and me, Jess Milton. Let's meet again next week. Until then, so long for now.