Bones: The Finger in the Nest
September 19th 2008 01:07
Warning: Dog/animal lovers, this episode will make you cry! At least it certainly made me cry…But don’t let that stop you, as it’s a good episode with a great message. Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, guest stars. Read on for the usual in depth re-cap! 
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Booth and Parker are walking through a park, football in Booth’s hand.
Booth: Do you know what the most beautiful things in the world is?
Parker: Mom says it’s the sunset.
Booth: Okay, well, one of the most beautiful man-made things?
Parker: Mom says the Mona Lisa.
Booth: Okay, look, all due respect to Mom buddy, but a perfectly thrown spiral? Waaaay better than all that stuff!
He kneels down to show Parker how to hold a football correctly. When the boy comments that his hand is too small, Booth assures, “It’ll grow.” He tells him to hold the ball up to his ear (“not your chin silly!”), and then comes a super cute father and son football scene that ends up with both of them on the ground staring up at…hey look! It’s a bird’s nest!
Booth asks if Parker wants him to lift him up to see it, and Parker thinks he should just try to knock it down instead. Booth quickly stops that idea with, “No, no, no, that’s somebody’s home, alright? Something could be alive in there.” Okay, Booth can lift him up then.
Cool! What is it? A baby bird? An egg? Nope. Parker picks it up with a wild smile on his face. “It’s somebody’s finger!!”
~*~*~
Bones talks to Cam and the new Grad student, Scott Starret (Bones’s oldest grad student, who happens to have 4 sons himself), as she drives, telling them that Parker didn’t freak out when he found the finger. In fact, he wanted to put it in his pocket and take it home. The new grad student assures Cam that that’s just how it is with boys.
The finger looks like it was sawed off, probably chewed by a wild animal. Hodgins comes in to tell Cam that the sticky stuff on the finger was sap from a flowering Japanese cherry. He turns around and spots Scott and frowns.
Hodgins: I know you from somewhere.
Scott: …I sold you a vintage 50’s hotrod back in the mid nineties. You were clean-shaven back then.
Hodgins: Because I was a kid.
He drove a hotrod? No actually. Scott sold him ended up breaking down within a week. Clearly, Hodgins has not yet forgiven the old car salesman. Cam gets them back on trail, and the new guy points out the type of flower they’re looking for is at the Jefferson Memorial. Which is 8 miles from where Parker found the finger.
Hodgins: I’d say King of The Lab, but that just depresses me…
~*~*~
Booth and Sweets are standing outside Booth’s office watching Parker.
Sweets: A human finger?
Booth: Yes, A human. Finger. Look, is my son gonna be suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress? Like suppressed feelings? And memories…?
Parker waves at them as Sweets explains that a child’s brain can’t process death as an end. “You know, that’s why we tell children that their deceased loved ones are looking down on us from Heaven.”
“Which they are,” Booth adds seriously.
“Yeah, it’s an excellent coping technique, you know. Grandma isn’t worm food, she’s simply moved on to a better place.”
“Which she did.”
Yeah, Parker looks fine to Sweets. Booth still wants the psychologist to talk to him, but Sweets tells him that that could just introduce issues that don’t exist. He’ll be fine, just watch him for any symptoms of distress.
Distress, right. Booth is on it, and whispers, “Like killing cats?”
Sweets: Yeah…sure.”
Okay.
~*~*~
Near the Jefferson Memorial, Booth and Bones wait by the car as the team investigates. Bones tells him that when she was five she went next door to find her neighbor sitting dead at the kitchen table and she turned out alright.
Booth: Yeah, you spend your life with skeletons.
Still worried, Booth is afraid that over time Parker’s going to realize it was a human finger and freak out. Bones automatically asks, “You’re afraid you’re going to get in trouble with Rebecca?”
“There’s a chance that he might not say anything to her.”
“So yes.”
“Yeah!” one of the team calls out, interrupting their conversation. “We found something.”
Flashlight time! Booth, Bones, and the other guy walk up on the body, which is currently being chewed on by a possum. The other FBI agent asks if he should shoot it, and Bones quickly tells him, “No! No, no, possums are scared of humans.” She walks up and tries shooing the possum “Shoo, shoo, shoo, go, go, go…”
The possum takes it’s time lazily walking away with Bones still “shoo”ing behind him. Booth just looks at her, sarcastically adding, “Yeah, they’re terrified.”
They find a fanny pack and a PDA, and as Bones is looking over the victim, Booth’s flashlight lands on the possum. “Look at that, the possum’s dead!” He thinks a second, then adds, “I got it. The victim was poisoned, the possum ate the victim, got poisoned, and died. That’s it.”
Booth reaches over and picks up the possum by the tail, explaining that they can go into a full sleep lasting up to eight hours.
“Wow,” Booth looks at it as it starts to wake up. “The possum was faking it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow!”
The possum hurries off. Bones tells Booth he should go get it. What does he look like, Ranger Rick? Well, he could have evidence! Okay fine, Booth will go get her possum.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, it seems the victim was 35-40 years old, a male, died somewhere else and was dumped, and bled to death. Very good.
Over at Hodgins microscope, Sweets hovers nearby.
Hodgins: Bull penis.
Sweets: Beg your pardon?
Hodgins looks up. “The fanny pack had dandruff sized flakes and bull penis in it. Why are you spying on me?”
Sweets walks up, asking if could possibly because he’s the dupe of the “shadowy forced that secretly run this country?” Hodgins goes back to his microscope, muttering, “You have the dupe part right.” He discovers that he has freeze-dried pull penis. Nice.
Sweets tells Hodgins that he knows where to find him if he wants to talk. Yeah, that’s not really the problem for Hodgins. It’s more trying to avoid Sweets.
Sweets: Hmm…okay.
He grins and leaves.
~*~*~
Angela can only do a parital facial reconstruction because the skull was so badly damaged, but she has three possible victims. Scott rules out the first two subjects, leaving them with Dr. Seth Elliot, a veterinarian. And why is he a good contender? Scott explains that "dog trainers use freeze-dried bull penises as rewards." How does he know this?
Cam: He’s middle aged, and he’s held every possible job.
Scott: Four boys, seven dogs, 14 guinea pigs, one reticulated python, you get the point.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones speak to Seth Elliot’s ex-wife Alice. She pulls out a very cute Pomeranian, which Booth calls a cat and Bones offers to hold while Alice cries.
Bones: He’s so compact!
(Note to self: Bones is a dog person. Yay!)
Alice says that Seth was supposed to pick up Brando (the dog), but he never showed. She continues to dab at her eyes, admitting that she never wanted to divorce him, but Seth had a very bad gambling problem. When he lost even their house, she had no choice but to leave him.
Booth asks for Seth’s bookie, but she doesn’t know his name.
Alice: You might ask Karen.
Booth and Bones: Who’s Karen?
Brando: YIP!
Clearly, Brando does not this Karen!
~*~*~
Booth and Bones go to talk to Karen Landrew, Seth’s receptionist and girlfriend for eight months (Karen: He’s divorced, I’m single. There’s nothing enervating about it. Bones: For future reference, that word doesn’t mean what you think.)
Karen can’t believe that Seth is dead, and is obviously broken up over the news. Did she know about his gambling problem? Yes, she admits, “That was Seth’s one fault.” He gambled mostly online poker.
Can she think of anything else? Just after she started working there, Seth caught a guy stealing Ketamine, the animal tranquilizer, from the clinic. She says he wrestled him to the ground, called the cops. Everyone said he was a hero. The guy went to prison. Do they think he killed Seth for revenge?
Booth quickly thanks Karen for her help, and steers Bones out. As they leave, Karen calls out, “Without Seth I’m paralyzed. I don’t know how I’ll find the energy to go on.”
Bones: Now THAT is what enervating means.
Booth: Bones!
Bones: What?
He quickly leads her out.
~*~*~
In the car, Bones pulls up a photo of Tucker Payne, the man Seth sent to prison for two years. He was paroled two months ago. Booth will have his guy bring him in.
The phone rings. It’s Cam, Hodgins, and Scott. Hodgins found salvia near the puncture would. Why was Hodgins looking for saliva? “I wasn’t looking,” Hodgins says irritated, “I found it. Giant difference.”
Booth looks at the phone. “Whoa, easy pal, watch your tone.”
Bones, on the other hand, doesn’t “care about tone, I just want results.”
Hodgins opens his mouth to talk, but Cam quickly holds up a finger, cutting him off. “Dr. Hodgins was looking for particulates on the mandible and vertebrae—” She gives him a warning look as she continues, “—That might lead to a murder weapon when he found saliva.”
There was enough saliva in the wounds to run a DNA profile. Booth thinks it has to be the possum’s, but Scott replies, “It had to be larger.”
Booth: Who’s that?
Hodgins: Fraudulent used car salesman.
Cam: Booth, meet Mr. Staret.
Hodgins tells them he ran it for the eight nuclear markers for canids.
Booth: Canids? What is that, like some kind of a bug?
Scott: Not a bug Agent Booth--
Hodgins: Canus Lupus Familiaris. *turns to Scott* See how annoying that interrupting know-it-all, used car salesman thing can be?
Booth is still lost. Bones explains, “Domestic dog.” The victim was killed by a dog with filed teeth.
~*~*~
Tucker Payne is being questioned by Booth. His dog, Schatzi (“It means treasure in German”), sits at his side. Booth asks Tucker if he can make Schatzi bark. What? He brought him in to hear him bark? No, he wants to see his teeth.
Booth steps forward, but Schatzi growls. Booth pulls out his gun and sets it on the table, asking Tucker, “Want to show me his teeth?” Tucker glances at the gun, and shows Booth his dog’s teeth. They’re filed to points. Why does he do it? Because he’s a drug dealer. Tucker explains, “You people catch me with a gun I go away forever.”
“Shatzi your choice of weapon?”
“Never had to use him yet.” Tucker looks at the gun, then back to Booth. “You mean you really gonna shoot my dog?”
“I got nothing against your dog.” Booth picks up his gun and puts it away. “I was gonna shoot you.”
Oh. Nice.
Booth pulls out the paperwork and hands it over to Tucker. Tucker studies it. “Aw, man, you got a warrant for my dog?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“ That’s cold.”
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Scott and Cam are looking at the wound. The dog starts to bark when Cam asks “Who’s Schatzi?” Scott talks to him in German and Schatzi quiets. He tells Cam that according to the evidence Schatzi is not the killer. He’s innocent. Schazti barks in agreement.
The phone rings and Cam picks it up. It’s Hodgins, he’s over at forensics because they found the victim’s car and Booth wanted him to “make sure they didn’t screw it up.” A CSI steps up, looking at Hodgins. In an increasingly uncharacteristic grumpiness, Hodgins replies, “Hey, deal with it.”
They found “gobs of dried blood”. Well, the guy was a vet. When Scott tries to talk, Hodgins interrupts, “Don’t listen to him. You’ll end up buying this blood-soaked heap for three times it’s value.”
Cam and Scott ignore Hodgins, and Scott explains that he worked as a vet’s assistant in college while he was studying to be an EMT. They were as careful with blood as any human doctor. More likely, the body was transported in the car and then dumped. Cam agrees that makes more sense.
The FBI search team finds a prescription bottle.
Hodgins: I found a—*CSI clears his throat*--Excuse me, the crack FBI team …
Found a bottle lableled “Donald Timmons.” When Scott suggests they track him down, Hodgins shoots back, “Wow, that is an absolutely wonderful idea that could only have sprung from the time-tempered mind of a man with your life's experience ripping off unsuspecting car enthusiasts."
“I feel better,” the CSI perks up. “You treat everybody like crap.”
Hodgins glares at him and walks off.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones arrive at a rural property guarded by two big dogs.
Booth: Whoa, look at that pit, huh? Muscles like cantaloupes.
Bones: Is that why we’re not getting out?
Booth: Naw it’s the country Bones, they got a different way of doing things.
The dogs continue to bark.
Bones: You’re afraid of the dog.
Booth: No I’m not. What you do in the country is you sit in your car and you wait. It’s polite. Parker had a nightmare.
Bones: About severed fingers?
Booth: No. It was a singing frog.
Bones: I don’t see the connection. But then I am one of those people who thinks if you dream about a banana, it’s probably just a banana.
Booth: He’s acting up in school, he’s talking back to his mom, he’s not flushing the toilet!
Bones: He’s a boy.
Booth: Okay, yeah I get it, you saw a whole old lady’s corpse when you were a little girl and you were fine.
Bones: Yes. Although, for some reason that I do not understand, I kept staging my own death. Pretending I drowned in the bathtub, faking electrical shock. It really freaked my parents out, and then once when Russ saw me hanging, he had to go see the school psychologist.
Booth just stares at her with that ‘are you serious?’ look and says, dryly, “But otherwise you were fine…”
“Yeah,” Bones answers very non-chalantly.
“Yeah, okay, do you dream about bananas a lot?”
She frowns at him. “Why?”
Their conversation in interrupted when Donald Timmons finally comes outside, asking them why they’re sitting in the car. He assures them that the pitbull, Gladys, won’t hurt them. They ask him if he knew Dr. Seth Elliot. Yes he did, why? He was murdered. Oh man.
Donald calls out his son, Robbie, who is equally surprised. Booth asks Donald if he’s ever ridden in Dr. Elliot’s car, and the man says no. Booth hands over the evidence bag with Donald’s prescription bottle. Robbie quickly tells them that the medicine is his, not his dad’s. See, he’s too old to be on his parent’s insurance, so Donald got it for him.
How about Robbie, has he been in Dr. Elliot’s car recently? Robbie says he was in it over the weekend but it was for work. On the night Seth was murdered, he was over at his tutor’s studying. He’s trying to get his GED.
Suddenly, Gladys trots over with a squeaky toy in her mouth.
“Hi!” Bones leans down to pet her as Donald explains that he wants Robbie to go to medical school. Robbie wants to be a vet. Yeah, his dad thinks that’s a good backup if he can’t make it through medical school…
Booth asks for the tutor’s name and address. Bones is still crouched down playing with Gladys. She chuckles, petting the dog. “Gladys is a very nice animal!”
“Yeah,” Robbie says, “Dad really trained her right.”
Donald calls Gladys over and makes her sit, lay down, and speak. She does so happily, leaving her squeaky football at Bones’s feet. Awwww!
Bones tells Booth that Gladys’s teeth aren’t filed. As Booth explains to Donald and Robbie what this means, he suddenly stops, “Bones what are you doing?”
She’s once again been distracted by Gladys and the squeaky toy. Bones takes the football and throws it for the dog, who bounds happily after it.
Booth: Will you stop playing with the dog?
Bones: What?
Donald: Seth was…murdered by a dog?
Bones: The murderer was a human being. The murder weapon was a dog.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Hodgins looks up from his microscope once again to find Sweets staring at him.
“Back to this are we? You staring at me?”
Sweets admits that he has concerns for Hodgins. He’s seems to have “completely abandoned your conspiracy theories.” Hodgins says that, although he’s not a trained psychologist like Sweets, he thought that was a good thing.
Sweets explains, “Conspiracy was the central idea to which you organized your sense of self.” He pauses, looking at Hodgins’s clothes, then adds, “Also, I can’t help but note that you’re not paying quite so much attention to your personal appearance.”
“Less paranoid and less vain,” Hodgins shrugs. “Again, sounds like a good thing.”
Sweets notes that these type of dramatic changes in a man’s life is a sign of immense stress. He pauses, then asks Hodgins, “Would you like to discuss this with me?”
Nope, he’d rather drive a motorcycle full speed into a bridge.
Sweets won’t be brushed off so easily. As Hodgins goes about his work, Sweets follows him, asking, “Do you often entertain suicidal thoughts?”
“No,” Hodgins answers, turning to face Sweets, hands on hips. “I’m more homicidal in nature. “
Sweets merely replies, “I’m pretty sure you’re not saying that in earnest, but as a way to keep me at arm’s length.”
Cam shows up. “I’m here, what’s up?”
Hodgins: *to Sweets* Would you mind? We’ve got work to do.
Sweets: You need to talk about these things Dr. Hodgins. If not with me, then with someone else.
Sweets leaves, and Cam asks, “What’ve you got?”
He found some crushed crustacean particulates the FBI guys missed. Ah…and what does that mean? He has no idea. Okay, then why did he call Cam here? “To make Sweets go away.”
“Not an appropriate use of your boss Dr. Hodgins.” Cam walks off as Hodgins calls out, “It worked, didn’t it?”
~*~*~
Robbie’s tutor, Andrew Hopp, shows up in Bones’s office. He’s a medical student and can vouch for Robbie’s whereabouts. He has records. Booth notices the suture pillow. “So you do a little needlepoint on the side?” Bones explains that it’s used to practice sutures.
Andrew: Yeah, next year we use actual corpses.
So, what is Robbie like? Andrew says that he’s a good kid. He’s never going to be the medical student his dad wants him to be, but he’s still good. Has Andrew met Dr. Elliot? Only twice. And he’s pretty sure he was a meth addict. But he was Robbie’s biggest role model, his main project, so who’s he to judge? Booth thanks him for coming in.
Andrew: Thanks for letting me see this place, it’s legendary.
He heads out.
~*~*~
After getting a subpoena to download Dr. Elliot’s dog fighting photos from his PDA, Angela officially declares, “I hate this job, so I’m quitting to go run a gallery”. Bones agrees, “That’s disgusting.” They continue to click through horrific photos of brutal dog fights. It is a grim assignment at best.
Bones explains the evil dog fighting techniques, explaining that “Pitting animals against each other is a common pastime in evolving cultures where violence is more commonplace and animal life has no value.”
“To men,” Angela cuts in. “No value to men.”
Bones agrees. “Yes, it’s always men.”
The women are disgusted.
Booth: Oh here we go again. Okay, you two, don’t get all Xena Princess Warrior on me, okay? Guess we’ve found out where Elliot likes to do his gambling.
Bones suddenly notices a blue “blob” on one of the pictures. When Angela magnifies it, Bones recognizes it as Gladys’s ball. Enough for them to get a warrant.
Angela glances at the pictures, and decides that yes, she should definitely go sell art to gazillionaires instead.
~*~*~
FBI Headquarters.
Booth barges into Sweets office with Parker. “Hey Sweets! You got a minute for me and Parker here?”
Sweets turns from his computer, surprised. “Wow, there you are, actually right here in my office without an appointment or—” He smiles at Parker. “Hi.” He bends over to shake Parker’s hand. “I’m Dr. Sweets.”
Parker turns to his dad. “Sweets doesn’t look like a baby’s behind.”
Booth quickly covers his son’s ears, interrupting him by telling Sweets, “He’s been having nightmares, he’s, uh, not eating. He doesn’t want to go to school, and suddenly he’s afraid of meteors.”
Sweets: Giant flaming rocks from outer space, who wouldn’t be afraid?
Parker glances up at his dad. “You know, I can still hear you.”
“Okay hum,” Booth says, “Got it? Hum.”
Parker obediently starts to hum, Booth’s hands still over his ears, as he tells Sweets, “I know all this is connected to him finding that finger.”
“I’m not some radio advice hack who performs diagnoses over the phone!” Sweets tries, but Booth only points out, “Exactly why I brought him here. I want you to cure him.”
Sweets tries to tell him that that’s not how it works, but Booth takes his hands off Parker’s ears, and the little boys gasps, “I thought I was gonna run out of breath!” Yeah Booth too, he’s just going to run upstairs and grab a warrant from that senile judge. So, ten, fifteen minutes is that enough time?
Sweets just rolls his eyes as Booth grabs the door. “Bye! Have fun!” He quickly shuts the door as Parker relaxes on Sweets’s couch.
Parker: Are you my babysitter?
Sweets: Parker? *sits* That is exactly what I am.
~*~*~
In the lab, Cam tells Hodgins that the judge denied the warrant, on the grounds that Gladys’s ball wasn’t enough. Over 2 million of them were sold last year. They need more evidence. Well, there’s always the crustacean particulates Hodgins founds. It’s used on AstroTurf as an anti-fungal treatment, but Cam points out that that doesn’t really help them either.
Actually, Angela says, showing up. It does link it to the dog fighting. She brings them back to look at the pictures.
Angela: *clicking through the pictures* Ick. Ew. Bluh
Finally she gets to the right one. AstroTurf. Good. If they can prove that the anti-fungal was delivered to Timmons they could get a warrant.
Hodgins: You are a genius.
Angela: You’re the genius.
They grin at each other. The moment is fleeting, however, as they both realize what they’re doing and grow solemn once again. (Sad!!
)
Cam looks between them and quickly walks off. Hodgins follows, leaving Angela behind.
~*~*~
At the Timmons house, Booth gets out of his car telling his team that what they’re looking for is evidence of a dog fighting operation. Dogs bark at the FBI team as Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, joins them.
Booth shakes his hand. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“I hope I can help.”
Bones walks up. “I’ve seen you on TV.”
“Thank you.”
When she starts to explain how she didn’ t mean that there’s anything good about being on TV, Booth translates, “She’s happy you’re here, and so am I.”
Timmons walks out, wondering what’s going on, and Booth hands over the warrant to one of the agents to show him. They set out to search for AstroTurf, as Cesar says, “You don’t hurt the ones you love. “ They walk up to a pit surrounded by a wooden fence. “You don’t send the ones you love you their death for entertaining.”
Booth: You must really hate these guys.
Cesar: I really do.
(Author’s note: ME TOO!)
Bones walks up the fence, going through to stare solemnly at the deep pit. She stops. Booth walks up behind her. “What is it?”
Clearly bothered, Bones answers, “They said the dogs fight to their death, so I should have expected this.”
The pit is a shallow grave full of dog bones, the ones who’ve fought to their death.
~*~*~
Bones has found not only dog bones, but also some trash, betting slips, in the grave. Booth will have them sent back to the Jeffersonian as evidence, see if they can trace the slips back to their owners to charge them.
“Yes,” Bones asserts. “That would make me feel a bit better if we did that.” Booth notices she’s clearly being bothered by this case.
Cesar appears, they found the AstroTruf.
Inside the barn, Booth and bones see a dog-fighting ring that matches the ones in the pictures. Booth asks if they found any dogs, and Cesar answers, “Yes, quite a few of them.” He leads them through the barn to another door.
Sliding the door back, Cesar shows them a dozen dogs chained up all near the ring. They all begin to bark like crazy, and Cesar takes in a breath at the sight, then raises his hand. “Shhh. Hey! Shhh…”
Every one of the dogs stops barking. They continue to watch him as he coaxes them gently to lay down. They do. Awwwww!
Bones: How does he do that?
Booth: He’s the Dog Whisperer.
Booth mimics Cesar and Bones just stares at him. “You didn’t do anything.”
~*~*
Booth questions Donald Timmons. Dog-fighting ring, remains of a dozen dead dogs, and he’s going to tell him that all that happened in his barn and he didn’t know? Timmons says he rents out the barn, he didn’t know what was going on. As far as he knew they were using it as storage.
Booth starts pulling out the dog-fighting pictures, and Don tells him that the he has an alibi. He was at a seminar in Chicago during the time of the murder. There were over 60 eye witnesses.
~*~*~
Back a the lab, Cesar helps Bones check the teeth of all the dogs found chained in the barn. They approach one dog, who snarls at them, and Cesar simply tells him, “Hey, stop that now.” Bones leans down. “Um, can I see your teeth please?” The dog barks, and Cesar steps in to help. He gets the dog to lay down and pets his head as he opens the cage and examines his teeth. It’s not the killer dog.
Cesar: That mold you made is like Cinderella’s slipper.
Bones: That story never made sense to me, but yes.
They stop at the next dog’s cage and go through the same motions. When the dog barks, Bones tries to do exactly what Cesar did, but all the rest of the dogs just start barking.
“It’s not as easy as it looks,” Cesar says, good naturedly, then calms all the dogs.
They bend down to check the next dog’s teeth. Unfortunately it’s a match.
Cesar: Are you positive?
Bones: This is the killer dog, yes.
Filled with compassion, Cesar pets the dog. “I’m sorry buddy. So sorry…” Bones joins him in petting the poor dog.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Hodgins is still arguing with Scott as they work.
Scott: Should I be looking for anything in particular?
Hodgins: Yeah, flashy crap that you could sell to a gullible kid.
Scott has finally had enough. "I didn't sell you that car. You bought it. You saw those horizontal scallops and you just had to have it. I suggested that you look under the hood but all you did was sit behind the wheel and make vroom-vroom noises."
Hodgins argues that he was twenty years old! Well, he’s not twenty in more, so cut it out. “You know—” Hodgins turns to Scott, angrier than we’ve ever seen him and ready to really give it to him, but suddenly stops. Scott is right.
“I’m sorry,” Hodgins says, suddenly realizing it. “I just—I just have been having a lot of problems lately.” Hodgins finally caves. “My best friend who used to work here with me he—” Hodgins sighs. “Got himself into a lot of trouble…Oh I really miss the guy.”
Scott tries to interrupt, but Hodgins just continues, “You know Angela? She and I, we were engaged to be married and, well, that went south too.”
Scott agrees that that’s a lot to bare, especially if you feel responsible. Yeah, Hodgins does. Scott politely tells Hodgins that he’s not the guy he should be talking with. Today is his last day. He’s leaving for a dig in Arizona tomorrow. Oh. He points out that there seem to be a lot of people here to are concerned for Hodgins’s happiness. He should try talking to them sometime.
As Hodgins thinks about this, Scott holds up something. “What’s this?” Hodgins explains that it’s a microchip pet owners use to embed in their animals just in case of theft or loss…but he knew that already didn’t he. Scott smiles, and Hodgins finally does too.
~*~*~
Sweets sits up from reading on his couch as Booth walks in.
Booth: I bet you have something to tell me about Parker.
Sweets: Uh, yeah, yeah. You were right, Parker is traumatized.
He knew it! Poor Booth falls to a nearby chair, letting out a ‘what-am-I-going-to-do-now’ breath.
Sweets: It has nothing to do with the finger in the nest.
Booth: Huh?
Sweets gets up and sits on the edge of the couch. “Um…he has a girl problem.”
Booth is confused. “Girl? He’s six.”
“MMmhmmm. The girl, her name is Stephanie Clyde, she’s…” Sweets holds out his arms to help explain, “Somewhat large. Likes to pick him up and carry him around.”
Booth isn’t quite sure he’s understand this right. “Carry…him, under her arm?”
“Like a pet monkey. He doesn’t know what to do, he says that you told him never to hit girls.”
“I told him, never to hit anyone. Unless it was for self defense,” Booth adds quickly. Still unable to comprehend this, he asks, “She uh, carries him around?”
“Like a monkey. At recess. She thinks he’s cute.”
“What about the finger?” Booth asks.
“Parker actually wishes that you’d let him have the finger, so that he could show it to Stephanie and maybe ‘make her barf’.”
Booth sighs. “Why doesn’t he just run away?”
“Well, when I suggested that,” Sweets answers with a grin, “he told me very proudly that his father never ran away from anything.”
Booth laughs, obviously very proud of his little boy. “Proudly?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“He said that?” Booth is still grinning, quite proudly himself in fact.
“I think you know what to do,” Sweets tells him. “I mean, we’ve all had our Stephanie Clydes, right?”
“Nobody’s ever carried me around like a monkey. Especially not a girl.”
“Of course not,” Sweets quickly answers, laughing it off.
Booth simply smirks, raising his eyebrows.
~*~*~
Cam examines the dog, finding a scar exactly where the microchip would be. They scan the hip and the name “Ripley” comes up on the computer.
Booth and Bones take Ripley’s papers to Karen, who is very surprised. According to the database, Ripley’s owner brought them here. Karen tells them that she just couldn’t put the dog to sleep just because his stupid owners didn’t know when they bought him that he’d get so big.
Seth couldn’t do it, so they found Ripley another home, they don’t know where. Well, Bones tells her, Ripley ended up on a dog-fighting farm. Karen insists that Dr. Elliot devoted his entire life to helping dogs, there’s no way he would have done that. Not on purpose.
~*~*~
Booth walks into Bones’s office, shocked to find her cuddling with the killer dog. She’s going through the photos on her computer as Ripley rests with his head on her lap. Shouldn’t the dog be in the cage? He killed Seth Elliot.
Bones: Well it’s not his fault! He’s actually a very nice dog. *she cuddles him* Aren’t you? *to Booth* He reminds me of you.
Booth: Me?
Bones: He’s got warm and reassuring brown eyes, and he’s capable of great violence.
Booth: Hey great, thanks a million.
Bones continues to cuddle the now very sweet Ripley as she clicks through the pictures of stitched up dogs. “Booth look at this cruelty. They send dogs in to fight to die or be hurt, and then they stitch them back up and they send them out to fight again!”
They’ve been assuming that it was Seth Elliot doctoring these dogs but…Bones brings up a close-up picture of the stitching. That ‘X’ at the end of the sutures? She’s seen it before.
~*~*~
Booth, Bones, and Cesar confront Andrew. Bones holds up a picture to the pillow Booth commented on before. Common suture, uneven, X at the end. It’s a match as good as a fingerprint.
Andrew insists that stitching up wounded animals isn’t a crime. Don and Robbie come out wondering what’s going on. Andrew tells everyone to be quiet. Robbie suddenly asks, “Is that that guy from TV who talks to dogs?” Yes. Cesar brings in Ripley and asks Andrew and Robbie to clap. Robbie is confused and Andrew flat our refuses. Don orders his son to clap. He does. Nothing happens.
Booth steps behind Andrew and claps. Ripley automatically goes to his master and sits down. He’s waiting for his command. Andrew nervously says that just because his dog killed Dr. Elliot, it doesn’t mean he made him do it. Don argues that Ripley’s a good dog. “He wouldn’t attack unless he was ordered.” He tells his son to tell these people what he knows about Seth Elliot.
Robbie admits that he saw Andrew order Ripley to kill Dr. Elliot because he saw him taking pictures of the dog-fighting.
~*~*~
Hodgins has finally given in and sits across from Sweets. Nobody talks. Finally, Hodgins admits, “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Mostly you just tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Mostly on my mind is ‘I hate everyone’,” Hodgins replies.
“Everyone?”
“To varying degrees, but…” Hodgins thinks. “Yeah, everyone.”
Sweets nods for him to continue, and Hodgins finally says, “Angela the most, because we had something great and now it’s dirt. Zack,” he struggles on, “For being such an idiot. Brennan, for bringing us all together. Cam, for making us efficient. Booth for giving us a mission. You, for pick, pick, pickin’ at me, should I go on?”
No, Sweets gets the point. Okay, so Hodgins hates everyone, what does that mean now? Heavy medication? Intense therapy?
Sweets: Naw, I’m good with the hate.
Hodgins: Are you serious?
Sweets: Yeah I am, you’re doing fine.
Hodgins leans forward. “Um…I hate everyone.”
Yeah, it’s a coping technique, Sweets thinks he’s fine. Shocked, Hodgins asks him if he got his degree on the internet, and Sweets leans forward to explain that Hodgins is fine. He’s still working, he hasn’t turned his back on his friends.
“Except, I hate them all,” Hodgins adds dryly.
Sweets points out that Hodgins is very wealthy, he doesn’t have to work, yet he chooses to stay with the people he hates. Hodgins thinks this means he’s completely nuts. No, he’s just replaced one way of seeing the world (paranoia) with another (misanthrope). Eventually he’ll replace that with something “Nicer”, but for now Sweets is okay with his coping technique.
Hodgins is still not sure he’s hearing right. “My coping technique of hate?”
“Correct.”
Hodgins stares at him a second. “So, what are you, like, my therapist now? Or…”
“No, we work together.”
“Great, see ya at work!” Hodgins gets up and leaves and Sweets just laughs.
~*~*~
Bones walks into Booth’s office, and he tells her that Robbie gave his statement. Andrew ordered the dog to attack because Dr. Elliot was trying to expose the dog-fighting ring. He took the photos to turn into the police. Andrew would have been forced to leave medical school.
Booth notices the bag in Bones’s hand. “So what’ve you got there?”
Bones grins, opening the bag to pull out a leash. “I’ve decided to adopt Ripley!”
“Bones—”
“I’ve already contacted a dog walker and a doggie daycare place, and my dad will take him when I leave town.” She looks over the new collar. “I got a little tag, see?” She shows it to him. “Ripley Brennan.”
“He was put down,” Booth gently tells her.
Bones’s smile vanishes. “What?”
“I’m sorry, “ Booth tells her. “He killed someone and they had to put him down.”
(NOOOOOOOOOOOO!)
“How—It wasn’t Ripley’s fault!” Bones argues. “People mad him do what he did.”
Booth tells her he knows, he’s sorry. Bones still argues, “You can tell he’s a good-natured dog!” They really put him down? Yeah…Crushed and furious, Bones sinks to the chair opposite Booth’s desk. It’s not fair!
Booth: Bones, I’m sorry.
Bones: …What are they going to do with his remains?
~*~*~
Booth helps Bones bury Ripley’s body by a lake. She asks him for the shovel to finish since he dug the hole. Booth hands it over. As she continues with the dirt, she asks if Sweets helped him with Parker.
“Yeah, I told Parker that it’s uh, best just to walk away sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Isn’t it always better to walk away?” Bones asks. “You know, this dog would still be alive if he wasn’t forced to fight.”
“I told him to walk away if it’s for himself,” Booth explains. “And to stand up and fight if it’s for someone else.”
Bones stops shoveling.
Booth: I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say but…
Bones: You’re a very good father.
They stand there for a moment, and Booth asks her if she wants to say something. Bones looks down at the grave and back at Booth. “Well, I feel that this dog, Ripley, paid a price that was unfair.”
She’s staring intently at him and Booth says, “It’s not my fault. Bones, why are you talking to me?”
“Well, you’re the only one here!” she says, not getting it.
“Talk to the universe,” he explains. “Or God, or Ripley.” He points out that “God” spelled backwards is “Dog”.
Bones tries to argue that Ripley’s dead, “plus he’s a dog with…limited vocabulary…”
“Bones just, speak from your heart,” Booth helps.
Bones thinks about this a second, and this is one time that she agrees with Booth. “On behalf of Human Kind, Universe, “ she begins. “I’d like to apologize to what happened to Ripley. He was born a cute little puppy…and then the people who adopted him wanted to kill him because they were too stupid to realize that he would grow into a big dog!” She looks to Booth and he urges her on, “That’s good…”
Starting to get choked up, Bones sniffs and says, “Ripley was a good dog. He didn’t want to fight. But he did it to please his master. You know, he didn’t want to attack a human being, but he did it to please his master!” She swallows hard, holding back tears. “It wasn't Ripley's fault that his master was cruel and selfish. “ Booth nods in agreement as Bones continues, “Like all dogs, Ripley only saw the good in people. Dogs are like that. People should take a lesson."
She pulls out the little red heart tag reading “Ripley Brennan” and kneels to place it on the grave. She pats it down with the shovel asking Booth, “Is that enough?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “As much as any good dog, hey,” he lays a hand on her back to get her to stop. “Even with limited vocabulary skills, okay?”
She nods and Booth pulls her into a hug, and for once Bones doesn’t fight him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX
*Cries* Poor Ripley. That is so SO sad. Dogs are my weakness and I agree with Bones on that last speech 100 percent! It makes me furious when stupid people make good animals do bad things. The dogs are just trying to make them happy! It’s not their fault! At least this episode brought to light what a horrible crime dog-fighting is, and I hope more people will try to stop it. It was a great idea to have Cesar guest star. That guy is amazing!
On a happier note, absolutely loved all the Booth and Parker parts and how worried Booth was. He is a very good father. The “girl problem” cracked me up! Poor Parker! LoL Very cute that he wanted to be like his dad though.
I’m also glad they finally addressed how Hodgins is struggling with losing his best friend and fiancé. Sad. As usual, loved Sweets. 
And, if you're wondering, that song at the end was "I Hurt Too" by Katie Herzig.
And now I must go cuddle with my own dog. Rest in peace, Ripley. Rest in peace.
Booth and Parker are walking through a park, football in Booth’s hand.
Booth: Do you know what the most beautiful things in the world is?
Parker: Mom says it’s the sunset.
Booth: Okay, well, one of the most beautiful man-made things?
Parker: Mom says the Mona Lisa.
Booth: Okay, look, all due respect to Mom buddy, but a perfectly thrown spiral? Waaaay better than all that stuff!
He kneels down to show Parker how to hold a football correctly. When the boy comments that his hand is too small, Booth assures, “It’ll grow.” He tells him to hold the ball up to his ear (“not your chin silly!”), and then comes a super cute father and son football scene that ends up with both of them on the ground staring up at…hey look! It’s a bird’s nest!
Booth asks if Parker wants him to lift him up to see it, and Parker thinks he should just try to knock it down instead. Booth quickly stops that idea with, “No, no, no, that’s somebody’s home, alright? Something could be alive in there.” Okay, Booth can lift him up then.
Cool! What is it? A baby bird? An egg? Nope. Parker picks it up with a wild smile on his face. “It’s somebody’s finger!!”
~*~*~
Bones talks to Cam and the new Grad student, Scott Starret (Bones’s oldest grad student, who happens to have 4 sons himself), as she drives, telling them that Parker didn’t freak out when he found the finger. In fact, he wanted to put it in his pocket and take it home. The new grad student assures Cam that that’s just how it is with boys.
The finger looks like it was sawed off, probably chewed by a wild animal. Hodgins comes in to tell Cam that the sticky stuff on the finger was sap from a flowering Japanese cherry. He turns around and spots Scott and frowns.
Hodgins: I know you from somewhere.
Scott: …I sold you a vintage 50’s hotrod back in the mid nineties. You were clean-shaven back then.
Hodgins: Because I was a kid.
He drove a hotrod? No actually. Scott sold him ended up breaking down within a week. Clearly, Hodgins has not yet forgiven the old car salesman. Cam gets them back on trail, and the new guy points out the type of flower they’re looking for is at the Jefferson Memorial. Which is 8 miles from where Parker found the finger.
Hodgins: I’d say King of The Lab, but that just depresses me…
~*~*~
Booth and Sweets are standing outside Booth’s office watching Parker.
Sweets: A human finger?
Booth: Yes, A human. Finger. Look, is my son gonna be suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress? Like suppressed feelings? And memories…?
Parker waves at them as Sweets explains that a child’s brain can’t process death as an end. “You know, that’s why we tell children that their deceased loved ones are looking down on us from Heaven.”
“Which they are,” Booth adds seriously.
“Yeah, it’s an excellent coping technique, you know. Grandma isn’t worm food, she’s simply moved on to a better place.”
“Which she did.”
Yeah, Parker looks fine to Sweets. Booth still wants the psychologist to talk to him, but Sweets tells him that that could just introduce issues that don’t exist. He’ll be fine, just watch him for any symptoms of distress.
Distress, right. Booth is on it, and whispers, “Like killing cats?”
Sweets: Yeah…sure.”
Okay.
~*~*~
Near the Jefferson Memorial, Booth and Bones wait by the car as the team investigates. Bones tells him that when she was five she went next door to find her neighbor sitting dead at the kitchen table and she turned out alright.
Booth: Yeah, you spend your life with skeletons.
Still worried, Booth is afraid that over time Parker’s going to realize it was a human finger and freak out. Bones automatically asks, “You’re afraid you’re going to get in trouble with Rebecca?”
“There’s a chance that he might not say anything to her.”
“So yes.”
“Yeah!” one of the team calls out, interrupting their conversation. “We found something.”
Flashlight time! Booth, Bones, and the other guy walk up on the body, which is currently being chewed on by a possum. The other FBI agent asks if he should shoot it, and Bones quickly tells him, “No! No, no, possums are scared of humans.” She walks up and tries shooing the possum “Shoo, shoo, shoo, go, go, go…”
The possum takes it’s time lazily walking away with Bones still “shoo”ing behind him.
Booth just looks at her, sarcastically adding, “Yeah, they’re terrified.” They find a fanny pack and a PDA, and as Bones is looking over the victim, Booth’s flashlight lands on the possum. “Look at that, the possum’s dead!” He thinks a second, then adds, “I got it. The victim was poisoned, the possum ate the victim, got poisoned, and died. That’s it.”
Booth reaches over and picks up the possum by the tail, explaining that they can go into a full sleep lasting up to eight hours.
“Wow,” Booth looks at it as it starts to wake up. “The possum was faking it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow!”
The possum hurries off. Bones tells Booth he should go get it. What does he look like, Ranger Rick? Well, he could have evidence! Okay fine, Booth will go get her possum.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, it seems the victim was 35-40 years old, a male, died somewhere else and was dumped, and bled to death. Very good.
Over at Hodgins microscope, Sweets hovers nearby.
Hodgins: Bull penis.
Sweets: Beg your pardon?
Hodgins looks up. “The fanny pack had dandruff sized flakes and bull penis in it. Why are you spying on me?”
Sweets walks up, asking if could possibly because he’s the dupe of the “shadowy forced that secretly run this country?” Hodgins goes back to his microscope, muttering, “You have the dupe part right.” He discovers that he has freeze-dried pull penis. Nice.
Sweets tells Hodgins that he knows where to find him if he wants to talk. Yeah, that’s not really the problem for Hodgins. It’s more trying to avoid Sweets.
Sweets: Hmm…okay.
He grins and leaves.
~*~*~
Angela can only do a parital facial reconstruction because the skull was so badly damaged, but she has three possible victims. Scott rules out the first two subjects, leaving them with Dr. Seth Elliot, a veterinarian. And why is he a good contender? Scott explains that "dog trainers use freeze-dried bull penises as rewards." How does he know this?
Cam: He’s middle aged, and he’s held every possible job.
Scott: Four boys, seven dogs, 14 guinea pigs, one reticulated python, you get the point.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones speak to Seth Elliot’s ex-wife Alice. She pulls out a very cute Pomeranian, which Booth calls a cat and Bones offers to hold while Alice cries.
Bones: He’s so compact!
(Note to self: Bones is a dog person. Yay!
)Alice says that Seth was supposed to pick up Brando (the dog), but he never showed. She continues to dab at her eyes, admitting that she never wanted to divorce him, but Seth had a very bad gambling problem. When he lost even their house, she had no choice but to leave him.
Booth asks for Seth’s bookie, but she doesn’t know his name.
Alice: You might ask Karen.
Booth and Bones: Who’s Karen?
Brando: YIP!
Clearly, Brando does not this Karen!
~*~*~
Booth and Bones go to talk to Karen Landrew, Seth’s receptionist and girlfriend for eight months (Karen: He’s divorced, I’m single. There’s nothing enervating about it. Bones: For future reference, that word doesn’t mean what you think.)
Karen can’t believe that Seth is dead, and is obviously broken up over the news. Did she know about his gambling problem? Yes, she admits, “That was Seth’s one fault.” He gambled mostly online poker.
Can she think of anything else? Just after she started working there, Seth caught a guy stealing Ketamine, the animal tranquilizer, from the clinic. She says he wrestled him to the ground, called the cops. Everyone said he was a hero. The guy went to prison. Do they think he killed Seth for revenge?
Booth quickly thanks Karen for her help, and steers Bones out. As they leave, Karen calls out, “Without Seth I’m paralyzed. I don’t know how I’ll find the energy to go on.”
Bones: Now THAT is what enervating means.
Booth: Bones!
Bones: What?
He quickly leads her out.
~*~*~
In the car, Bones pulls up a photo of Tucker Payne, the man Seth sent to prison for two years. He was paroled two months ago. Booth will have his guy bring him in.
The phone rings. It’s Cam, Hodgins, and Scott. Hodgins found salvia near the puncture would. Why was Hodgins looking for saliva? “I wasn’t looking,” Hodgins says irritated, “I found it. Giant difference.”
Booth looks at the phone. “Whoa, easy pal, watch your tone.”
Bones, on the other hand, doesn’t “care about tone, I just want results.”
Hodgins opens his mouth to talk, but Cam quickly holds up a finger, cutting him off. “Dr. Hodgins was looking for particulates on the mandible and vertebrae—” She gives him a warning look as she continues, “—That might lead to a murder weapon when he found saliva.”
There was enough saliva in the wounds to run a DNA profile. Booth thinks it has to be the possum’s, but Scott replies, “It had to be larger.”
Booth: Who’s that?
Hodgins: Fraudulent used car salesman.
Cam: Booth, meet Mr. Staret.
Hodgins tells them he ran it for the eight nuclear markers for canids.
Booth: Canids? What is that, like some kind of a bug?
Scott: Not a bug Agent Booth--
Hodgins: Canus Lupus Familiaris. *turns to Scott* See how annoying that interrupting know-it-all, used car salesman thing can be?
Booth is still lost. Bones explains, “Domestic dog.” The victim was killed by a dog with filed teeth.
~*~*~
Tucker Payne is being questioned by Booth. His dog, Schatzi (“It means treasure in German”), sits at his side. Booth asks Tucker if he can make Schatzi bark. What? He brought him in to hear him bark? No, he wants to see his teeth.
Booth steps forward, but Schatzi growls. Booth pulls out his gun and sets it on the table, asking Tucker, “Want to show me his teeth?” Tucker glances at the gun, and shows Booth his dog’s teeth. They’re filed to points. Why does he do it? Because he’s a drug dealer. Tucker explains, “You people catch me with a gun I go away forever.”
“Shatzi your choice of weapon?”
“Never had to use him yet.” Tucker looks at the gun, then back to Booth. “You mean you really gonna shoot my dog?”
“I got nothing against your dog.” Booth picks up his gun and puts it away. “I was gonna shoot you.”
Oh. Nice.
Booth pulls out the paperwork and hands it over to Tucker. Tucker studies it. “Aw, man, you got a warrant for my dog?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“ That’s cold.”
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Scott and Cam are looking at the wound. The dog starts to bark when Cam asks “Who’s Schatzi?” Scott talks to him in German and Schatzi quiets. He tells Cam that according to the evidence Schatzi is not the killer. He’s innocent. Schazti barks in agreement.
The phone rings and Cam picks it up. It’s Hodgins, he’s over at forensics because they found the victim’s car and Booth wanted him to “make sure they didn’t screw it up.” A CSI steps up, looking at Hodgins. In an increasingly uncharacteristic grumpiness, Hodgins replies, “Hey, deal with it.”
They found “gobs of dried blood”. Well, the guy was a vet. When Scott tries to talk, Hodgins interrupts, “Don’t listen to him. You’ll end up buying this blood-soaked heap for three times it’s value.”
Cam and Scott ignore Hodgins, and Scott explains that he worked as a vet’s assistant in college while he was studying to be an EMT. They were as careful with blood as any human doctor. More likely, the body was transported in the car and then dumped. Cam agrees that makes more sense.
The FBI search team finds a prescription bottle.
Hodgins: I found a—*CSI clears his throat*--Excuse me, the crack FBI team …
Found a bottle lableled “Donald Timmons.” When Scott suggests they track him down, Hodgins shoots back, “Wow, that is an absolutely wonderful idea that could only have sprung from the time-tempered mind of a man with your life's experience ripping off unsuspecting car enthusiasts."
“I feel better,” the CSI perks up. “You treat everybody like crap.”
Hodgins glares at him and walks off.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones arrive at a rural property guarded by two big dogs.
Booth: Whoa, look at that pit, huh? Muscles like cantaloupes.
Bones: Is that why we’re not getting out?
Booth: Naw it’s the country Bones, they got a different way of doing things.
The dogs continue to bark.
Bones: You’re afraid of the dog.
Booth: No I’m not. What you do in the country is you sit in your car and you wait. It’s polite. Parker had a nightmare.
Bones: About severed fingers?
Booth: No. It was a singing frog.
Bones: I don’t see the connection. But then I am one of those people who thinks if you dream about a banana, it’s probably just a banana.
Booth: He’s acting up in school, he’s talking back to his mom, he’s not flushing the toilet!
Bones: He’s a boy.
Booth: Okay, yeah I get it, you saw a whole old lady’s corpse when you were a little girl and you were fine.
Bones: Yes. Although, for some reason that I do not understand, I kept staging my own death. Pretending I drowned in the bathtub, faking electrical shock. It really freaked my parents out, and then once when Russ saw me hanging, he had to go see the school psychologist.
Booth just stares at her with that ‘are you serious?’ look and says, dryly, “But otherwise you were fine…”
“Yeah,” Bones answers very non-chalantly.
“Yeah, okay, do you dream about bananas a lot?”
She frowns at him. “Why?”
Their conversation in interrupted when Donald Timmons finally comes outside, asking them why they’re sitting in the car. He assures them that the pitbull, Gladys, won’t hurt them. They ask him if he knew Dr. Seth Elliot. Yes he did, why? He was murdered. Oh man.
Donald calls out his son, Robbie, who is equally surprised. Booth asks Donald if he’s ever ridden in Dr. Elliot’s car, and the man says no. Booth hands over the evidence bag with Donald’s prescription bottle. Robbie quickly tells them that the medicine is his, not his dad’s. See, he’s too old to be on his parent’s insurance, so Donald got it for him.
How about Robbie, has he been in Dr. Elliot’s car recently? Robbie says he was in it over the weekend but it was for work. On the night Seth was murdered, he was over at his tutor’s studying. He’s trying to get his GED.
Suddenly, Gladys trots over with a squeaky toy in her mouth.
“Hi!” Bones leans down to pet her as Donald explains that he wants Robbie to go to medical school. Robbie wants to be a vet. Yeah, his dad thinks that’s a good backup if he can’t make it through medical school…
Booth asks for the tutor’s name and address. Bones is still crouched down playing with Gladys. She chuckles, petting the dog. “Gladys is a very nice animal!”
“Yeah,” Robbie says, “Dad really trained her right.”
Donald calls Gladys over and makes her sit, lay down, and speak. She does so happily, leaving her squeaky football at Bones’s feet. Awwww!
Bones tells Booth that Gladys’s teeth aren’t filed. As Booth explains to Donald and Robbie what this means, he suddenly stops, “Bones what are you doing?”
She’s once again been distracted by Gladys and the squeaky toy. Bones takes the football and throws it for the dog, who bounds happily after it.
Booth: Will you stop playing with the dog?
Bones: What?
Donald: Seth was…murdered by a dog?
Bones: The murderer was a human being. The murder weapon was a dog.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Hodgins looks up from his microscope once again to find Sweets staring at him.
“Back to this are we? You staring at me?”
Sweets admits that he has concerns for Hodgins. He’s seems to have “completely abandoned your conspiracy theories.” Hodgins says that, although he’s not a trained psychologist like Sweets, he thought that was a good thing.
Sweets explains, “Conspiracy was the central idea to which you organized your sense of self.” He pauses, looking at Hodgins’s clothes, then adds, “Also, I can’t help but note that you’re not paying quite so much attention to your personal appearance.”
“Less paranoid and less vain,” Hodgins shrugs. “Again, sounds like a good thing.”
Sweets notes that these type of dramatic changes in a man’s life is a sign of immense stress. He pauses, then asks Hodgins, “Would you like to discuss this with me?”
Nope, he’d rather drive a motorcycle full speed into a bridge.
Sweets won’t be brushed off so easily. As Hodgins goes about his work, Sweets follows him, asking, “Do you often entertain suicidal thoughts?”
“No,” Hodgins answers, turning to face Sweets, hands on hips. “I’m more homicidal in nature. “
Sweets merely replies, “I’m pretty sure you’re not saying that in earnest, but as a way to keep me at arm’s length.”
Cam shows up. “I’m here, what’s up?”
Hodgins: *to Sweets* Would you mind? We’ve got work to do.
Sweets: You need to talk about these things Dr. Hodgins. If not with me, then with someone else.
Sweets leaves, and Cam asks, “What’ve you got?”
He found some crushed crustacean particulates the FBI guys missed. Ah…and what does that mean? He has no idea. Okay, then why did he call Cam here? “To make Sweets go away.”
“Not an appropriate use of your boss Dr. Hodgins.” Cam walks off as Hodgins calls out, “It worked, didn’t it?”
~*~*~
Robbie’s tutor, Andrew Hopp, shows up in Bones’s office. He’s a medical student and can vouch for Robbie’s whereabouts. He has records. Booth notices the suture pillow. “So you do a little needlepoint on the side?” Bones explains that it’s used to practice sutures.
Andrew: Yeah, next year we use actual corpses.
So, what is Robbie like? Andrew says that he’s a good kid. He’s never going to be the medical student his dad wants him to be, but he’s still good. Has Andrew met Dr. Elliot? Only twice. And he’s pretty sure he was a meth addict. But he was Robbie’s biggest role model, his main project, so who’s he to judge? Booth thanks him for coming in.
Andrew: Thanks for letting me see this place, it’s legendary.
He heads out.
~*~*~
After getting a subpoena to download Dr. Elliot’s dog fighting photos from his PDA, Angela officially declares, “I hate this job, so I’m quitting to go run a gallery”. Bones agrees, “That’s disgusting.” They continue to click through horrific photos of brutal dog fights. It is a grim assignment at best.
Bones explains the evil dog fighting techniques, explaining that “Pitting animals against each other is a common pastime in evolving cultures where violence is more commonplace and animal life has no value.”
“To men,” Angela cuts in. “No value to men.”
Bones agrees. “Yes, it’s always men.”
The women are disgusted.
Booth: Oh here we go again. Okay, you two, don’t get all Xena Princess Warrior on me, okay? Guess we’ve found out where Elliot likes to do his gambling.
Bones suddenly notices a blue “blob” on one of the pictures. When Angela magnifies it, Bones recognizes it as Gladys’s ball. Enough for them to get a warrant.
Angela glances at the pictures, and decides that yes, she should definitely go sell art to gazillionaires instead.
~*~*~
FBI Headquarters.
Booth barges into Sweets office with Parker. “Hey Sweets! You got a minute for me and Parker here?”
Sweets turns from his computer, surprised. “Wow, there you are, actually right here in my office without an appointment or—” He smiles at Parker. “Hi.” He bends over to shake Parker’s hand. “I’m Dr. Sweets.”
Parker turns to his dad. “Sweets doesn’t look like a baby’s behind.”
Booth quickly covers his son’s ears, interrupting him by telling Sweets, “He’s been having nightmares, he’s, uh, not eating. He doesn’t want to go to school, and suddenly he’s afraid of meteors.”
Sweets: Giant flaming rocks from outer space, who wouldn’t be afraid?
Parker glances up at his dad. “You know, I can still hear you.”
“Okay hum,” Booth says, “Got it? Hum.”
Parker obediently starts to hum, Booth’s hands still over his ears, as he tells Sweets, “I know all this is connected to him finding that finger.”
“I’m not some radio advice hack who performs diagnoses over the phone!” Sweets tries, but Booth only points out, “Exactly why I brought him here. I want you to cure him.”
Sweets tries to tell him that that’s not how it works, but Booth takes his hands off Parker’s ears, and the little boys gasps, “I thought I was gonna run out of breath!” Yeah Booth too, he’s just going to run upstairs and grab a warrant from that senile judge. So, ten, fifteen minutes is that enough time?
Sweets just rolls his eyes as Booth grabs the door. “Bye! Have fun!” He quickly shuts the door as Parker relaxes on Sweets’s couch.
Parker: Are you my babysitter?
Sweets: Parker? *sits* That is exactly what I am.
~*~*~
In the lab, Cam tells Hodgins that the judge denied the warrant, on the grounds that Gladys’s ball wasn’t enough. Over 2 million of them were sold last year. They need more evidence. Well, there’s always the crustacean particulates Hodgins founds. It’s used on AstroTurf as an anti-fungal treatment, but Cam points out that that doesn’t really help them either.
Actually, Angela says, showing up. It does link it to the dog fighting. She brings them back to look at the pictures.
Angela: *clicking through the pictures* Ick. Ew. Bluh
Finally she gets to the right one. AstroTurf. Good. If they can prove that the anti-fungal was delivered to Timmons they could get a warrant.
Hodgins: You are a genius.
Angela: You’re the genius.
They grin at each other. The moment is fleeting, however, as they both realize what they’re doing and grow solemn once again. (Sad!!
)
Cam looks between them and quickly walks off. Hodgins follows, leaving Angela behind.
~*~*~
At the Timmons house, Booth gets out of his car telling his team that what they’re looking for is evidence of a dog fighting operation. Dogs bark at the FBI team as Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, joins them.
Booth shakes his hand. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“I hope I can help.”
Bones walks up. “I’ve seen you on TV.”
“Thank you.”
When she starts to explain how she didn’ t mean that there’s anything good about being on TV, Booth translates, “She’s happy you’re here, and so am I.”
Timmons walks out, wondering what’s going on, and Booth hands over the warrant to one of the agents to show him. They set out to search for AstroTurf, as Cesar says, “You don’t hurt the ones you love. “ They walk up to a pit surrounded by a wooden fence. “You don’t send the ones you love you their death for entertaining.”
Booth: You must really hate these guys.
Cesar: I really do.
(Author’s note: ME TOO!)
Bones walks up the fence, going through to stare solemnly at the deep pit. She stops. Booth walks up behind her. “What is it?”
Clearly bothered, Bones answers, “They said the dogs fight to their death, so I should have expected this.”
The pit is a shallow grave full of dog bones, the ones who’ve fought to their death.
~*~*~
Bones has found not only dog bones, but also some trash, betting slips, in the grave. Booth will have them sent back to the Jeffersonian as evidence, see if they can trace the slips back to their owners to charge them.
“Yes,” Bones asserts. “That would make me feel a bit better if we did that.” Booth notices she’s clearly being bothered by this case.
Cesar appears, they found the AstroTruf.
Inside the barn, Booth and bones see a dog-fighting ring that matches the ones in the pictures. Booth asks if they found any dogs, and Cesar answers, “Yes, quite a few of them.” He leads them through the barn to another door.
Sliding the door back, Cesar shows them a dozen dogs chained up all near the ring. They all begin to bark like crazy, and Cesar takes in a breath at the sight, then raises his hand. “Shhh. Hey! Shhh…”
Every one of the dogs stops barking. They continue to watch him as he coaxes them gently to lay down. They do. Awwwww!
Bones: How does he do that?
Booth: He’s the Dog Whisperer.
Booth mimics Cesar and Bones just stares at him. “You didn’t do anything.”
~*~*
Booth questions Donald Timmons. Dog-fighting ring, remains of a dozen dead dogs, and he’s going to tell him that all that happened in his barn and he didn’t know? Timmons says he rents out the barn, he didn’t know what was going on. As far as he knew they were using it as storage.
Booth starts pulling out the dog-fighting pictures, and Don tells him that the he has an alibi. He was at a seminar in Chicago during the time of the murder. There were over 60 eye witnesses.
~*~*~
Back a the lab, Cesar helps Bones check the teeth of all the dogs found chained in the barn. They approach one dog, who snarls at them, and Cesar simply tells him, “Hey, stop that now.” Bones leans down. “Um, can I see your teeth please?” The dog barks, and Cesar steps in to help. He gets the dog to lay down and pets his head as he opens the cage and examines his teeth. It’s not the killer dog.
Cesar: That mold you made is like Cinderella’s slipper.
Bones: That story never made sense to me, but yes.
They stop at the next dog’s cage and go through the same motions. When the dog barks, Bones tries to do exactly what Cesar did, but all the rest of the dogs just start barking.
“It’s not as easy as it looks,” Cesar says, good naturedly, then calms all the dogs.
They bend down to check the next dog’s teeth. Unfortunately it’s a match.
Cesar: Are you positive?
Bones: This is the killer dog, yes.
Filled with compassion, Cesar pets the dog. “I’m sorry buddy. So sorry…” Bones joins him in petting the poor dog.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Hodgins is still arguing with Scott as they work.
Scott: Should I be looking for anything in particular?
Hodgins: Yeah, flashy crap that you could sell to a gullible kid.
Scott has finally had enough. "I didn't sell you that car. You bought it. You saw those horizontal scallops and you just had to have it. I suggested that you look under the hood but all you did was sit behind the wheel and make vroom-vroom noises."
Hodgins argues that he was twenty years old! Well, he’s not twenty in more, so cut it out. “You know—” Hodgins turns to Scott, angrier than we’ve ever seen him and ready to really give it to him, but suddenly stops. Scott is right.
“I’m sorry,” Hodgins says, suddenly realizing it. “I just—I just have been having a lot of problems lately.” Hodgins finally caves. “My best friend who used to work here with me he—” Hodgins sighs. “Got himself into a lot of trouble…Oh I really miss the guy.”
Scott tries to interrupt, but Hodgins just continues, “You know Angela? She and I, we were engaged to be married and, well, that went south too.”
Scott agrees that that’s a lot to bare, especially if you feel responsible. Yeah, Hodgins does. Scott politely tells Hodgins that he’s not the guy he should be talking with. Today is his last day. He’s leaving for a dig in Arizona tomorrow. Oh. He points out that there seem to be a lot of people here to are concerned for Hodgins’s happiness. He should try talking to them sometime.
As Hodgins thinks about this, Scott holds up something. “What’s this?” Hodgins explains that it’s a microchip pet owners use to embed in their animals just in case of theft or loss…but he knew that already didn’t he. Scott smiles, and Hodgins finally does too.
~*~*~
Sweets sits up from reading on his couch as Booth walks in.
Booth: I bet you have something to tell me about Parker.
Sweets: Uh, yeah, yeah. You were right, Parker is traumatized.
He knew it! Poor Booth falls to a nearby chair, letting out a ‘what-am-I-going-to-do-now’ breath.
Sweets: It has nothing to do with the finger in the nest.
Booth: Huh?
Sweets gets up and sits on the edge of the couch. “Um…he has a girl problem.”
Booth is confused. “Girl? He’s six.”
“MMmhmmm. The girl, her name is Stephanie Clyde, she’s…” Sweets holds out his arms to help explain, “Somewhat large. Likes to pick him up and carry him around.”
Booth isn’t quite sure he’s understand this right. “Carry…him, under her arm?”
“Like a pet monkey. He doesn’t know what to do, he says that you told him never to hit girls.”
“I told him, never to hit anyone. Unless it was for self defense,” Booth adds quickly. Still unable to comprehend this, he asks, “She uh, carries him around?”
“Like a monkey. At recess. She thinks he’s cute.”
“What about the finger?” Booth asks.
“Parker actually wishes that you’d let him have the finger, so that he could show it to Stephanie and maybe ‘make her barf’.”
Booth sighs. “Why doesn’t he just run away?”
“Well, when I suggested that,” Sweets answers with a grin, “he told me very proudly that his father never ran away from anything.”
Booth laughs, obviously very proud of his little boy. “Proudly?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“He said that?” Booth is still grinning, quite proudly himself in fact.
“I think you know what to do,” Sweets tells him. “I mean, we’ve all had our Stephanie Clydes, right?”
“Nobody’s ever carried me around like a monkey. Especially not a girl.”
“Of course not,” Sweets quickly answers, laughing it off.
Booth simply smirks, raising his eyebrows.
~*~*~
Cam examines the dog, finding a scar exactly where the microchip would be. They scan the hip and the name “Ripley” comes up on the computer.
Booth and Bones take Ripley’s papers to Karen, who is very surprised. According to the database, Ripley’s owner brought them here. Karen tells them that she just couldn’t put the dog to sleep just because his stupid owners didn’t know when they bought him that he’d get so big.
Seth couldn’t do it, so they found Ripley another home, they don’t know where. Well, Bones tells her, Ripley ended up on a dog-fighting farm. Karen insists that Dr. Elliot devoted his entire life to helping dogs, there’s no way he would have done that. Not on purpose.
~*~*~
Booth walks into Bones’s office, shocked to find her cuddling with the killer dog. She’s going through the photos on her computer as Ripley rests with his head on her lap. Shouldn’t the dog be in the cage? He killed Seth Elliot.
Bones: Well it’s not his fault! He’s actually a very nice dog. *she cuddles him* Aren’t you? *to Booth* He reminds me of you.
Booth: Me?
Bones: He’s got warm and reassuring brown eyes, and he’s capable of great violence.
Booth: Hey great, thanks a million.
Bones continues to cuddle the now very sweet Ripley as she clicks through the pictures of stitched up dogs. “Booth look at this cruelty. They send dogs in to fight to die or be hurt, and then they stitch them back up and they send them out to fight again!”
They’ve been assuming that it was Seth Elliot doctoring these dogs but…Bones brings up a close-up picture of the stitching. That ‘X’ at the end of the sutures? She’s seen it before.
~*~*~
Booth, Bones, and Cesar confront Andrew. Bones holds up a picture to the pillow Booth commented on before. Common suture, uneven, X at the end. It’s a match as good as a fingerprint.
Andrew insists that stitching up wounded animals isn’t a crime. Don and Robbie come out wondering what’s going on. Andrew tells everyone to be quiet. Robbie suddenly asks, “Is that that guy from TV who talks to dogs?” Yes. Cesar brings in Ripley and asks Andrew and Robbie to clap. Robbie is confused and Andrew flat our refuses. Don orders his son to clap. He does. Nothing happens.
Booth steps behind Andrew and claps. Ripley automatically goes to his master and sits down. He’s waiting for his command. Andrew nervously says that just because his dog killed Dr. Elliot, it doesn’t mean he made him do it. Don argues that Ripley’s a good dog. “He wouldn’t attack unless he was ordered.” He tells his son to tell these people what he knows about Seth Elliot.
Robbie admits that he saw Andrew order Ripley to kill Dr. Elliot because he saw him taking pictures of the dog-fighting.
~*~*~
Hodgins has finally given in and sits across from Sweets. Nobody talks. Finally, Hodgins admits, “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Mostly you just tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Mostly on my mind is ‘I hate everyone’,” Hodgins replies.
“Everyone?”
“To varying degrees, but…” Hodgins thinks. “Yeah, everyone.”
Sweets nods for him to continue, and Hodgins finally says, “Angela the most, because we had something great and now it’s dirt. Zack,” he struggles on, “For being such an idiot. Brennan, for bringing us all together. Cam, for making us efficient. Booth for giving us a mission. You, for pick, pick, pickin’ at me, should I go on?”
No, Sweets gets the point. Okay, so Hodgins hates everyone, what does that mean now? Heavy medication? Intense therapy?
Sweets: Naw, I’m good with the hate.
Hodgins: Are you serious?
Sweets: Yeah I am, you’re doing fine.
Hodgins leans forward. “Um…I hate everyone.”
Yeah, it’s a coping technique, Sweets thinks he’s fine. Shocked, Hodgins asks him if he got his degree on the internet, and Sweets leans forward to explain that Hodgins is fine. He’s still working, he hasn’t turned his back on his friends.
“Except, I hate them all,” Hodgins adds dryly.
Sweets points out that Hodgins is very wealthy, he doesn’t have to work, yet he chooses to stay with the people he hates. Hodgins thinks this means he’s completely nuts. No, he’s just replaced one way of seeing the world (paranoia) with another (misanthrope). Eventually he’ll replace that with something “Nicer”, but for now Sweets is okay with his coping technique.
Hodgins is still not sure he’s hearing right. “My coping technique of hate?”
“Correct.”
Hodgins stares at him a second. “So, what are you, like, my therapist now? Or…”
“No, we work together.”
“Great, see ya at work!” Hodgins gets up and leaves and Sweets just laughs.
~*~*~
Bones walks into Booth’s office, and he tells her that Robbie gave his statement. Andrew ordered the dog to attack because Dr. Elliot was trying to expose the dog-fighting ring. He took the photos to turn into the police. Andrew would have been forced to leave medical school.
Booth notices the bag in Bones’s hand. “So what’ve you got there?”
Bones grins, opening the bag to pull out a leash. “I’ve decided to adopt Ripley!”
“Bones—”
“I’ve already contacted a dog walker and a doggie daycare place, and my dad will take him when I leave town.” She looks over the new collar. “I got a little tag, see?” She shows it to him. “Ripley Brennan.”
“He was put down,” Booth gently tells her.
Bones’s smile vanishes. “What?”
“I’m sorry, “ Booth tells her. “He killed someone and they had to put him down.”
(NOOOOOOOOOOOO!)
“How—It wasn’t Ripley’s fault!” Bones argues. “People mad him do what he did.”
Booth tells her he knows, he’s sorry. Bones still argues, “You can tell he’s a good-natured dog!” They really put him down? Yeah…Crushed and furious, Bones sinks to the chair opposite Booth’s desk. It’s not fair!
Booth: Bones, I’m sorry.
Bones: …What are they going to do with his remains?
~*~*~
Booth helps Bones bury Ripley’s body by a lake. She asks him for the shovel to finish since he dug the hole. Booth hands it over. As she continues with the dirt, she asks if Sweets helped him with Parker.
“Yeah, I told Parker that it’s uh, best just to walk away sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Isn’t it always better to walk away?” Bones asks. “You know, this dog would still be alive if he wasn’t forced to fight.”
“I told him to walk away if it’s for himself,” Booth explains. “And to stand up and fight if it’s for someone else.”
Bones stops shoveling.
Booth: I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say but…
Bones: You’re a very good father.
They stand there for a moment, and Booth asks her if she wants to say something. Bones looks down at the grave and back at Booth. “Well, I feel that this dog, Ripley, paid a price that was unfair.”
She’s staring intently at him and Booth says, “It’s not my fault. Bones, why are you talking to me?”
“Well, you’re the only one here!” she says, not getting it.
“Talk to the universe,” he explains. “Or God, or Ripley.” He points out that “God” spelled backwards is “Dog”.
Bones tries to argue that Ripley’s dead, “plus he’s a dog with…limited vocabulary…”
“Bones just, speak from your heart,” Booth helps.
Bones thinks about this a second, and this is one time that she agrees with Booth. “On behalf of Human Kind, Universe, “ she begins. “I’d like to apologize to what happened to Ripley. He was born a cute little puppy…and then the people who adopted him wanted to kill him because they were too stupid to realize that he would grow into a big dog!” She looks to Booth and he urges her on, “That’s good…”
Starting to get choked up, Bones sniffs and says, “Ripley was a good dog. He didn’t want to fight. But he did it to please his master. You know, he didn’t want to attack a human being, but he did it to please his master!” She swallows hard, holding back tears. “It wasn't Ripley's fault that his master was cruel and selfish. “ Booth nods in agreement as Bones continues, “Like all dogs, Ripley only saw the good in people. Dogs are like that. People should take a lesson."
She pulls out the little red heart tag reading “Ripley Brennan” and kneels to place it on the grave. She pats it down with the shovel asking Booth, “Is that enough?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “As much as any good dog, hey,” he lays a hand on her back to get her to stop. “Even with limited vocabulary skills, okay?”
She nods and Booth pulls her into a hug, and for once Bones doesn’t fight him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX
*Cries* Poor Ripley. That is so SO sad.
Dogs are my weakness and I agree with Bones on that last speech 100 percent! It makes me furious when stupid people make good animals do bad things. The dogs are just trying to make them happy! It’s not their fault! At least this episode brought to light what a horrible crime dog-fighting is, and I hope more people will try to stop it. It was a great idea to have Cesar guest star. That guy is amazing!On a happier note, absolutely loved all the Booth and Parker parts and how worried Booth was. He is a very good father. The “girl problem” cracked me up! Poor Parker! LoL Very cute that he wanted to be like his dad though.
I’m also glad they finally addressed how Hodgins is struggling with losing his best friend and fiancé. Sad.
As usual, loved Sweets. And, if you're wondering, that song at the end was "I Hurt Too" by Katie Herzig.
And now I must go cuddle with my own dog. Rest in peace, Ripley. Rest in peace.
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