by Tom Watson
DEDICATION
Dedicated to Mary
(YMM)
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: Spring Has Sprung
Chapter 2: A Coffee Quest?
Chapter 3: Unicorns and Fairy Dust
Chapter 4: Muffie!
Chapter 5: Hop! Drop! Flop! Stop!
Chapter 6: Karen Forgets
Chapter 7: Meat-a-Palooza
Chapter 8: Stick Dog Has a Fever
Chapter 9: A Fluttering Feeling
Chapter 10: A Deep Problem
Chapter 11: The Circus Plan
Chapter 12: Drool and Drool and Drool
Chapter 13: Supersonic Jet Thingamajig
Chapter 14: A Most Excellent Hole
Chapter 15: A Talking Truck
Chapter 16: Dog Food!
Chapter 17: Scooter Takes a Seat
Chapter 18: Sneaky and Stealthy
Chapter 19: Stick Dog Is Stuck
Chapter 20: Lucy Helps Out
Chapter 21: Who Are You?
Chapter 22: Obviously Smart
Chapter 23: Working Together
Chapter 24: Why Were You Hiding?
Chapter 25: Yikes
Chapter 26: Romantical?
Chapter 27: K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
About the Author
Back Ad
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER 1
SPRING HAS SPRUNG
When it was chilly, Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes usually spent the night in Stick Dog’s pipe. All five dogs would huddle close together, using their body heat to keep each other warm during cold, dark nights.
Last night was a cold, dark night.
But as Stick Dog opened his eyes and looked out his pipe, he thought maybe—just maybe—the day would bring some warmth. The morning sunshine looked strong and bright. He pushed himself up without disturbing his sleeping friends.
Stick Dog always got up first.
He looked at the others. Stripes, Karen, and Poo-Poo were all pressed against Mutt in some way. Mutt’s fur was the thickest and shaggiest by far. It made him the warmest.
Stick Dog made his way to the end of his pipe and looked out at the little clearing there before the woods started. He closed his eyes and held his face up to the sun, taking in the warmth for several seconds. It felt good. He lowered his head, opened his eyes, and gazed out at the forest at the edge of that clearing. He saw the first signs of life on the trees, grass, bushes, and weeds.
Everything was a little greener than yesterday, he thought to himself and smiled.
Spring was coming.
Stick Dog knew that meant good things for him and his friends.
The creek wouldn’t be frozen over. They wouldn’t have to break through the ice for a drink. Garbage cans would be smellier—meaning they could sniff them and determine what kind of scraps were inside without having to push the cans over. Small humans would be at Picasso Park, leaving snacks and crumbs all over the place. There might even be some early picnickers grilling hot dogs, hamburgers, and other tasty treats.
Yes, Stick Dog thought, spring was in the air.
It felt good. It felt promising.
But something else was in the air too.
Something that Stick Dog hadn’t thought of.
Romance.
(Yikes.)
CHAPTER 2
A COFFEE QUEST?
When Mutt stirred and woke up, Stripes, Karen, and Poo-Poo woke up too. It had to happen that way. They were all sleeping against him. They yawned and stretched and rubbed their eyes. Then Karen hustled over to Stick Dog at the pipe opening.
Karen always woke up quickly—and with a burst of energy.
Stick Dog heard Karen’s little dachshund paws patter toward him. He turned away from the calm morning and toward his frantic little friend.
“Good morning, Stick Dog!” Karen exclaimed, skidding to a stop against the dry metal floor of the pipe.
He smiled down at her.
“Do you know what I’ve noticed, Stick Dog?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve noticed that big humans often drink coffee in the morning,” Karen said. This seemed like a very important observation to her. “It helps them get their day started. I’ve seen them drinking coffee in their cars in the morning. On park benches. Heck, I’ve even seen big humans drinking coffee while they take their garbage cans out in the morning.”
Do you mind if I interrupt here just for a second?
Thanks.
This whole coffee thing with grown-ups is, like, totally true. I know that for a fact because of my mom. She’s not, you know, normal until she has coffee in the morning.
Here’s an example. Last Thursday, we ran out of coffee. That was not good.
Plus, it was the science fair, and I made a cycle-of-water diorama that I had to take to school. You know, evaporation, condensation, precipitation—that whole thing.
So Mom had to drive me to school.
That was also not good.
Here are a few of the things that happened on the, umm, trip to school. First, we sat in the driveway for, like, five minutes. I didn’t want to make Mom feel bad, but finally I had to say, “Mom, you need to turn the car on.”
Once we got going, everything was fine.
Until we got to the first stop sign on Armitage Avenue.
Mom stopped the car.
After about forty-five seconds, I said, “Mom, you can go now.”
She kept staring at the red stop sign. She whispered, “But it says ‘Stop.’”
“That means just stop for a few seconds,” I said. It took a lot of work not to laugh. “You can go now.”
Then she shook her head twice real fast.
Then she drove me to school.
Only it wasn’t school.
It was the grocery store.
She put the car in park, looked at me, and said, “Good luck at the science fair!”
I figured it was probably best just to get out and walk the rest of the way to school. It wasn’t too far. And my cycle-of-water diorama wasn’t heavy or anything. It was just awkward.
So anyway, Karen is right. Grown-ups need to have coffee.
Stick Dog asked, “Why do you think big humans need coffee so much?”
“Because coffee is the best, Stick Dog!” Karen exclaimed. “The absolute BEST! It gives me energy. It wakes me up. Why, I’d take a bath in coffee if I could! I’d swim in coffee! I wish the creek was made out of coffee!”
“How many times have you actually had coffee?” Stick Dog asked.
“Just once—when we got those awesome donuts,” Karen said. “But it was a day to remember, that’s for sure.”
“It certainly was,” said Stick Dog. He loved Karen’s instant enthusiasm in the morning. Her joy gave him an idea. “You know what, Karen?”
“What?”
“You know how we always go on searches for food?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe before that we should go on a search for something to drink this morning.”
“Do you mean—” Karen said, and began to shiver and tremble with excitement. “Do you mean we can go on a quest for coffee?!”
Stick Dog smiled and nodded.
“Really?!” Karen screamed, and jumped higher than she had ever jumped before—almost six inches. “Really?!”
Stick Dog nodded again and said, “Really.”
CHAPTER 3
UNICORNS AND FAIRY DUST
“Where are we going, Stick Dog?” asked Poo-Poo as he, Mutt, and Stripes jumped over a fallen maple tree branch.
“It’s call
ed the White House Café on Wild Atlantic Road,” answered Stick Dog. “It’s just through the woods, not very far at all. I’ve seen tons of humans walking out of it with coffee. I’ve never really thought of looking for scraps there though. It’s just a coffee place, I think.”
“Just coffee?” Karen asked, and panted. Her legs were shorter than her friends’—and she churned them much faster to keep up with the group. Because of that, she had to take in some breath as she spoke. “There’s no such . . . thing as . . . just coffee! Coffee is . . . scrumptious . . . and magical. It gives you . . . energy! It’s sunshine . . . and unicorns . . . and lightning . . . and fairy dust . . . all mixed together!”
Stick Dog slowed and stopped then. They were at the edge of the woods—really close to the White House Café. His friends stopped with him. They gathered around Karen as she caught her breath.
“None of us have ever had coffee, Karen,” Stick Dog commented as he peered out from behind a honeysuckle bush. He could see the side of the coffee shop. There was a concrete sidewalk, a bike rack, and an empty garbage can there.
“Is coffee really sunshine?” asked Poo-Poo.
“And unicorns?” asked Stripes.
“And lightning and fairy dust?” asked Mutt.
Karen nodded her head, grinned, and said, “All mixed together.”
“Shh,” Stick Dog said, and crouched down suddenly. “I hear some humans coming.”
As they all watched, two women pushed two baby strollers on the sidewalk and approached the café. They parked the strollers near the bike rack, picked up two toddlers—a little girl and a little boy—from the strollers, and went inside the coffee shop.
“Okay,” Stick Dog said quietly. “I think those two humans will come back out with coffee in a few minutes. We need a plan to get it from them.”
“Don’t worry, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said. “I know just what to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, when those humans come back outside,” Poo-Poo began. He seemed pretty confident in his plan. “They’ll put those little humans back in the strollers. When they do, I’ll charge out of the woods and bash my head into the garbage can as hard as I can. I am, as you know, one of the world’s great head-bashers.”
“Yes, I know.”
“The humans will be so startled by the sound of my awesome head-bashing, that they’ll turn to see what happened,” Poo-Poo continued. His eyes widened as he detailed the next step in his coffee-snatching strategy. “While they look at the overturned can, you four rush in and push the strollers away as fast as you can! Once you’re a safe distance away, I’ll join you. Then we’re practically done.”
“Sounds like a great plan!” Karen exclaimed. “I dream of coffee sometimes! Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!”
Mutt and Stripes agreed that Poo-Poo’s plan was absolutely terrific.
Stick Dog, however, did not.
“Poo-Poo, when you say ‘practically done,’” he said, “what exactly do you mean?”
“I mean by that point we’ll almost have the coffee,” Poo-Poo explained. He seemed surprised that Stick Dog had trouble following along. “There’s just one more obvious step to go.”
“I guess it’s not so clear to me,” Stick Dog admitted. “What is that obvious step?”
“We write the two big humans a note,” Poo-Poo said, squinting one eye and nodding his head at his own genius.
“Umm, what does the note say?” asked Stick Dog, not mentioning that none of them had ever written a note before.
“It says: ‘Dear Big Humans. If you want your little humans back, then bring us your coffee. We will trade you.’”
Stick Dog was just about to explain that taking the little humans was not a very nice thing to do—not at all.
But he didn’t need to explain anything.
At just that moment, the two big female humans came out of the café.
They each used one hand to hold hands with a little human—and the other hand to hold their cups of coffee.
Karen started to jump up and down.
CHAPTER 4
MUFFIE!
“What did you get?” asked the first woman as they walked toward the parked strollers.
“I had to get a decaf,” the second woman said. “I had three cups this morning. I’m already pretty wired. What about you?”
“My usual,” the first woman answered. “An extra-large, caramel-mocha, no-whip latte with three extra shots of espresso.”
The two women put their coffee cups down on the sidewalk. They needed both hands to lift their toddlers into the strollers.
“Time for some head-bashing!” Poo-Poo scream-whispered.
He leaped over a broken branch at the edge of the woods.
But Stick Dog stopped him.
“No, Poo-Poo!” he said, and held him back.
“Why not?!” Poo-Poo pleaded. “The coffee is right there for the taking. We don’t even have to run away with the little humans and negotiate their release!”
“They’ll see us,” Stick Dog said quickly. “They could call the police—or the dog catcher. We can’t risk it.”
“Then what are we going to do?!” Karen asked frantically. “I can see that coffee! It’s right there waiting for me! It’s a delicious, magical coffee fantasy! But if I can’t get it, my delicious, magical coffee fantasy will turn into a malicious, despicable coffee nightmare!”
Stick Dog didn’t know what to say—or what to do. Everything had happened so fast, he hadn’t even had a chance to think up a plan.
But right then, someone spoke who made everything a lot easier.
It wasn’t Karen.
Or Stick Dog.
Or Mutt, Stripes, or Poo-Poo.
It wasn’t the first woman.
Or the second woman.
It wasn’t the little male human.
It was the little female human.
“Muffie!” she screamed, and began to wriggle in her mother’s arms, resisting the attempt to put her down into the stroller. “Muffie! Muffie!!”
“You want a muffin now?” her mother asked. “But I asked you inside, and you said you didn’t.”
“Muffie! Muffie!! Muffie!!!” she yelled.
This yelling affected the other toddler quite quickly. He had apparently decided that he wanted a muffin too.
He screamed, “Muffie! Muffie!! Muffie!!!”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” the second woman said. “You too?”
As Stick Dog and his friends watched, the two big humans put the two little humans back down on the sidewalk. They turned and headed back into the café. You could tell the big humans were in a hurry—a big hurry—to get some muffins for the little humans. They wanted them to settle down.
They didn’t even pick up their coffees from the sidewalk.
Stick Dog said just one thing. He said it loud. He said it clear. “Let’s go!”
They scampered out of the woods toward the side of the café.
Stick Dog grabbed one of the coffees in his mouth, turning his head a bit to the side so it wouldn’t spill. He realized pretty quickly that the coffee was safe and secure inside. The plastic lid fit tightly. Not one drop of coffee came out.
Karen was at the second cup. She was too small to fit her mouth around that coffee cup as Stick Dog had done. She looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Stick Dog!” she whimpered. “I can’t do it. My mouth’s not big enough!”
“It’s okay, Karen,” Stick Dog said calmly after setting his cup down carefully on the sidewalk. He smiled at her. They didn’t have much time, but they did have some. He figured it would take the humans a couple of minutes to buy their muffins and come back. “Mutt, Poo-Poo, or Stripes can carry it for us.”
Karen breathed a happy sigh of relief.
Mutt carried the second cup. Stick Dog carried the first. And they hurried back into the woods. In less than a minute, they found a little clearing among some oak and maple trees. They set the coffee cups dow
n.
Stick Dog was about to make a decision.
It was a decision that would affect Karen.
A lot.
CHAPTER 5
HOP! DROP! FLOP! STOP!
They settled down comfortably in that clearing. The morning sun warmed their fur. It took some effort to get the lids off the cups without spilling a lot of coffee—but they eventually figured it out. Mutt laid on his belly and held the coffee cups between his front paws, while Stick Dog gently pried the lids loose. Hardly any coffee spilled at all.
It was then that Stick Dog made a fateful decision. It was something that would affect the rest of their day—especially the rest of Karen’s day.
Stick Dog said, “Karen, this is a special treat just for you. And you’re such a coffee fan. I think you should have one drink all to yourself. Mutt, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and I will share the other one.”
They all agreed to this idea.
Karen began to lap and slurp at one cup, while Mutt, Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Stick Dog took turns drinking the other.
What nobody knew at the time was that Karen drank an extra-large, caramel-mocha, no-whip latte with three extra shots of espresso.
And the other four dogs drank a large decaf coffee.
Karen was done in less than two minutes. She was small enough to stick her head into the big cup and was able to lick every drop from the bottom. When she was done, she pulled her head from the cup.
“I am in heaven,” Karen whispered as she sat back against a nearby tree trunk. She closed her eyes, grinned, and rubbed her little dachshund belly. “Pure heaven. Wasn’t it wonderful? Don’t you guys agree? Now that you’ve finally had a taste?”
Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes just shrugged.
“It was okay, I guess,” said Poo-Poo.
Mutt nodded.
Stripes added, “It was a little bitter, to be honest. But, you know, I was thirsty, so it was fine.”
