A Dog's Life with Starsky and Hutch
By TLR
Plot: A dog tells his own Starsky and Hutch story.
::::::::::::::::::::::::
I'm a mixed breed, a border collie combined with German shepherd, black with tan markings over my eyes, on my cheeks, and down above my ankles, with a white ruff and paws, who came into the company of two guys named Starsky and Hutch.
Once upon a time in the rough and tumble city of Bay City, where the streets drummed with the rhythm of life, I found myself on the hood of a striking red Torino. I had just narrowly escaped the dog pound, and you know what they do once you're in their clutches. They "put you to sleep". Well, I've heard enough about that from my pals, and that's one place I don't want to fall asleep in. So I went on the run.
Anyway.
It was just outside the carwash. The Torino was nice and clean, freshly sprayed. The two guys came out from the office where they paid for the wash and wax, and you know when they saw me, they weren't mad at all. They both came over to me with a smile, which made me wag my tail back in a friendly hello.
Should I get down?
Starsky grinned and tickled the fur around my ears. "Hey, man. Watcha doin' on my cah?" His voice was filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
His blond counterpart rubbed the fur on my back. "Where the heck did he come from, Starsk? He isn't wearing a collar, but he looks pretty well-fed."
Oh yeah. My last meal. Before I would "go to sleep".
I wagged my tail, enjoying the sun and their attention. My senses are pretty keen, so I knew they were nice and legit. I felt no threats from them. Good vibes. Starsky leaned down to my eye level. "Well, aren't you the cool pup? What's your story, huh?"
I put my paw out to shake his hand.
Nice to meet you, Starsk.
Starsky shook it, then I put my paw up for the other one.
But the other one was losing his smile as he looked at his companion.
"Starsk, come on. I know what you're thinking, and it isn't going to work."
"Hutch, you come on. It's kismet. He's right here in front of our face. What else we sposed to do?"
The one named Hutch looked at me, then finally shook my paw, but grudgingly. Not wanting to get too close, I guess.
"I don't bite!" I barked at him.
He looked right in my eyes. He knew I didn't bite. I gave him my most endearing puppy-dog look, even though I hadn't been a puppy for almost six months now. I struck out on my own after my owner died. He was a nice old man, but there was no use of me hanging around after he passed. Oh well. A new adventure lay ahead of me, I suppose.
Besides being picked up by the dogcatcher and taken to the pound to be "put to sleep", this was an eventful day for me.
Hutch sighed. "Neither of us can keep a dog, Starsk. You know that."
But Starsky, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, had the puppy-dog charm too. "Hutch, look at those eyes. This fella needs a home. What if we adopt him? We can take turns lookin' after him."
Hutch raised an eyebrow. "Take turns? We're cops, not babysitters."
Starsky was hooked on me, and he was trying to hook Hutch. "Come on, Hutch, we can call him Torino. It's perfect!"
I whined a little. Maybe it would help. Keep going, Starsk. You almost got him.
It never occurred to me to wonder why Starsk needed his friend's permission anyway, but appeared that he did. Apparently they made a lot of important joint decisions together.
I licked the back of Hutch's hand to seal the deal. He had to fall for that. He had a soft heart. I could tell.
Hutch sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe this."
Believe it. You're outnumbered. I'm going home with one or both of you.
"Okay!" Hutch shouted throwing his arms up in the air. "We have a dog! Happy now?"
"Yes," Starsky said giving me a hug around the neck. "Very."
I barked my thanks to Hutch, who just shook his finger at me. "You give us one ounce of trouble, mister, and you're going to the pound."
I licked his finger. It wouldn't be the only time he shook it at me, and it wouldn't be the last time I licked it.
"But first, Torino," Starsky said to me as he lifted my chin and looked at me. "We gotta see if you belong to anyone. If no takers, then you're ours home free."
Torino?
Was that really going to be my name?
My previous name was Barker. I guess it was time for a new name. New people. New home. Or homes, as the case may be, since they were going to take turns taking care of me.
"Torino?" Hutch echoed my thoughts exactly
"Well?" Starsky shrugged. "Gotny better ideas?"
"Rover?"
No. Please not Rover. Torino is fine.
"No," Starsky agreed firmly. "It's Torino."
::
And so, my life as Torino began. I experienced the cool differences between Starsky's playful antics and Hutch's composed demeanor, although the kid in Hutch came out when he threw a frisbee or tennis ball for me to catch in the park or in Starsky's backyard.
At Hutch's place, there was a lot of music and talk, and a bit of training as he tried to teach me tricks and proper dog manners. We would jog around the block or in the park for exercise, maybe hit the beach and the health food store.
At Starsky's, I could let my fur down, play, run, sleep in, roll around, eat peanut butter with him, chew bones and toys. He put a piece in the paper about "Dog Found" but no one responded. I tried to tell him that my previous owner passed away, but he didn't understand my whines.
I missed that old man, and whined once in a while at his departure, but being with Starsky and Hutch made it better. I had two homes that felt like one, and two guys that felt like everything I needed.
Starsky was right with my name.
Torino!
Starsky would let me ride shotgun, wind in my fur, as we raced through the city streets, order takeout or drive-thru. Hutch, on the other hand, would calmly discuss cases with me during stakeouts, and I would listen with intrigue.
Starsky loved to spoil me with treats, while Hutch insisted on a balanced diet. Starsky chuckled when I ran after a girl dog, while Hutch groomed and praised me. Both of them installed a dog door, which I mastered like a pro, zipping back and forth from one home to the other anytime I wanted. At Starsky's I got peanut butter and pizza. At Hutch's I got bacon and goat cheese.
What can I say, I was a mooch. A mooch pooch.
As the days passed, I found myself woven into the fabric of their partnership. Starsky and Hutch, each unique, each offering a different flavor to our adventures. I witnessed the highs and lows of their detective life, their joking, and their close bond. I was beginning to feel like I was part of that bond too. An insider. No better place to be. Loved as much as a dog can be loved.
In the quiet moments, I'd rest my head on Starsky's lap, like when he would read the paper, feeling the warmth of his generous, intense spirit. Then, in the thoughtful hours, like when Hutch played his guitar, I'd lie by his side, absorbing the calm caring that emanated from him.
Starsky kept telling him to rest and take his medicine, because Hutch was acting sick and sleepy, so Hutch did, because they were working on hard cases and Hutch didn't want his partner to have to work them alone.
"I've been cleared for duty," Hutch told Starsky as the blond stroked my back on the sofa, maybe comforting himself as much as me. "The virus is over, Starsk. For me and everybody else. It's just the regular flu."
Starsky set his beer and pretzels down on the coffee table. He doesn't take no for an answer very well. He put the back of his hand to Hutch's forehead. "Hot. Fever. I'm takin' you to see a doctor tomorrow. I'm makin' the appointment, and you're going."
"Oh for Pete's-"
But Hutch didn't protest too much. He knew when Starsky meant business.
Through it all, I discovered that life with Starsky and Hutch was unpredictable.
::
The doctor's appointment that Starsky wanted, didn't happen the next day.
That night, after Starsky had gone home and Hutch gave me some water before bed, he went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and took his flu medicine, but a few minutes later he was acting sleepy and dizzy again. The medicine bottle fell from his hand and he collapsed on the floor just outside the bathroom.
I ran to him and licked his cheek.
Hutch! What's wrong? Get up! Are you sick?
I barked at him, but nothing happened.
He had to be sick. Starsky said so.
With a whine, I ran through the dog door and sprinted for Starsky's as fast as my legs would go, flying low like a jet.
::
I raced through the streets and traffic, dodging curious hands and overzealous arms trying to catch me.
No way. I belonged to Starsky and Hutch. I was Torino, and no one was going to stop me.
On approach to Starsky's house, I barked a canine SOS as I bounded up the steps and bolted through the dog door.
His house was quiet. He was asleep. So I jumped right on top of him in the bed, whining, barking, licking his face.
Urgent! Hutch is sick! He needs you!
Alarmed, Starsky opened his eyes and knuckled sleep from his eyes. "What the-"
I barked and pawed at him, tugging on his T-shirt with my teeth, trying to convey my plea for him to follow.
Concern clouded his face. I jumped around in the bed, still barking, then jumped down to try to get him to follow me.
Hurry!
Starsky grabbed some clothes and called an ambulance for Hutch as he was dressing, then we ran out to the big red Torino (the cah, not me), and headed for Hutch's.
As we rushed through the city, Starsky couldn't help but speak what was in his heart: "Hold on, Hutch. We're coming for you."
Yes! I barked. Hold on! We're coming!
I whined, trying not to cry, but it didn't work. I began to howl.
Starsk reached over and put a comforting hand on my head.
We reached Hutch's apartment just as the ambulance did, both of us running up the Venice Place stairs to get to our buddy even before the medics did.
"Hutch!" Starsky said as he skidded to his knees where Hutch lay on his side.
"Hutch," Starsky said taking Hutch's pulse in his wrist, then looked around, finding the medicine bottle.
Hutch moaned and tried to open his eyes. I nudged his head with my nose.
Come on, Hutch. You gotta be okay.
Starsky lifted his eyelids and looked at his eyes just as the paramedics came in with a stretcher, stroked his fever-flushed cheeks, squeezed his hand tight.
"He has the flu," Starsky said looking up from his knees at them as he handed them the medicine bottle. "And recovered from the plague last month."
I sat down on my haunches next to Starsky and watched, unsure of which one needed me more. The medics were tearing packages and providing care. I leaned against Starsky's shoulder, hoping to return the kindness he'd shown me.
::
I couldn't follow them to the ambulance or hospital, though I wanted to. I had to wait at Hutch's, pacing, worrying, going to the door and back, sometimes going downstairs and waiting for one or both of them to come back. Hopefully both. I couldn't imagine what Starsky would do without his best friend, or what I would do without one of them.
Come back, Hutch, I howled into the night air.
Oh no. The dogcatcher. Coming for me again.
I raced back upstairs and slipped inside.
He wouldn't get me here.
::
Inside, I sat six feet from Hutch's door, watching and listening, too nervous to sleep or lap water. It was a few hours later when I heard their voices coming up the stairs.
Yes! You're back! Both of you!
I pushed through the dog door and met them at the top of the stairs with a happy wagging tail and a happy bark.
"Hiya, Tori," Hutch smiled as he leaned over and gave me a one-arm bro hug. "You're my hero."
Hero? What's a hero?
Starsky took Hutch's arm and walked him inside.
"Reaction to the flu medicine," Starsky told me, as if I'd asked.
Starsky sat him down in a chair, and I went to him and licked his hand. He looked pale and tired, though not as flushed, and had a new bag of medicine. I pushed my nose into his hand and he stroked my head.
"Good dog, Tori," he murmured. "Good dog."
Starsky knelt next to me and gave me a big hug and said, "Gonna buy you a big steak dinner tomorrow, Rino."
Hutch called me Tori. Starsky called me Rino. Figures.
"What about me?" Hutch asked him. "Don't I get a steak dinner too?"
"If you promise to take your medicine as prescribed."
"I will, Mom. I promise."
"Okay then, let's get you to bed for some rest. Right, Rino?"
I barked. I had to take care of my guys.
Starsky helped him to the bedroom and tucked him in, then turned out the light. I lay at the foot of his bed like a good dog, guarding, ready to alert Starsky if I needed to.
Starsky decided to take the pillow and blanket from the living room closet and sleep over.
"Night," Starsky said to Hutch, but Hutch was already in a light snore, purring like a cat.
Night, Starsk, I said with my thumping tail.
That night, as we slept soundly, I knew our bond was sealed. Starsky, Hutch, and I were more than partners – we were family.
End