by Tom Watson
“The truck is full of meat!”
Stripes lifted her head and stopped shaking it.
Poo-Poo removed his paw from Stick Dog’s shoulder.
Mutt took his paw off Stick Dog’s forehead.
Karen stopped nudging him.
“It turns out, believe it or not, that the meat smells were not coming from a buried treasure chest at all,” Stick Dog said. “They’re coming from that truck.”
“That seems unlikely,” Stripes responded. “I mean, a pirate’s chest makes more sense, don’t you think?”
“Umm, well, I think—” Stick Dog said, and stopped. He had a feeling he wouldn’t need to do any more convincing. Thank goodness.
That’s because a soft breeze flowed across the parking lot just then. It blew across the truck and right toward the dogs. Poo-Poo caught the scent again. He lifted his nose in the air and began to follow it, stepping slowly and dreamily toward the parking lot. The others all followed closely behind. Poo-Poo ducked under the guardrail and continued the short journey to the truck.
“The meat is here,” Poo-Poo said triumphantly. “It’s definitely in the truck.”
“Way to go, Poo-Poo,” Karen said.
“Way to find it, my man,” Stripes added.
Mutt said, “Nice work.”
And Stick Dog resisted the urge to slap his paw against his forehead.
Instead, he said, “You guys stay here for a second. I’m going to take a quick look around the truck.”
“Stick Dog?” Karen asked before he started.
“Yes?”
“I really feel that urge to move again,” she said. She hopped up and down quickly. “I think I’m going to run around in the parking lot some more!”
“No!” Stick Dog said, stepping in front of her to block her way. “That’s dangerous. Remember?”
“But I have to do something,” Karen pleaded. “I need to move. Like now!”
“I tell you what,” Stick Dog negotiated. He was worried about running out of time. He thought Mike the meat man could return any minute. “Why don’t you go back to that hole and do some more digging? That will get you moving. It’s a really nice hole. And you’re a really good digger.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do,” Stick Dog said. “For sure.”
Karen dashed back to her hole. Stick Dog could hear her start scraping away at the dirt. He smiled and said to Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo, “I’m going to circle the truck and investigate for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
He went along the side to the back. When he got there, he propped himself up and tested the strong metal latch on the door. It was closed securely—and locked. He wasn’t getting into the truck that way. He went around to the other side.
The same writing was on this side of the truck. Stick Dog read it again.
“Mike’s Magnificent Meats,” he read out loud. “Get your meat where the four streets meet.”
He paced past the driver’s-side door, around the front of the truck, and back to the other side to join Stripes, Mutt, and Poo-Poo.
“Did you find a way in?” Poo-Poo asked urgently.
“Not yet,” Stick Dog answered, and stretched up on his back paws, propping his front paws against the passenger-side door. The window was open a couple of inches on this side. He wondered if maybe—just maybe—he could reach a paw through that crack and unlock the door somehow. He rose up to look inside.
And he saw two things.
Two very different things.
The first thing made his heart pound. He knew they had to get out of there—fast.
The second thing made his heart feel funny.
CHAPTER 9
A FLUTTERING FEELING
When Stick Dog looked through that passenger-side window, he could see straight across through the driver’s-side window too. And Mike the meat man was coming back. He was already halfway across the parking lot.
They had no time. They had to get out of there.
He dropped his eyes to look quickly into the truck. He hoped for a miracle. He hoped there might be some meat on the seat or something. Maybe he could shove his front paw through the window crack and reach it—and share it with his friends.
But there was no meat there.
There was, however, something else.
Well, not something else.
Someone else.
And she looked up and stared right at him.
And that’s when his heart started to feel funny.
Stretched out on the long bench seat of that truck was a dog.
A girl dog.
A German shepherd.
She had a length of yellow rope in her mouth. She had a name tag on her collar. It said “Lucy.”
Lucy tilted her head and stared up at Stick Dog through the window.
He tilted his head and stared down at her through the window.
He felt that funny fluttering feeling in his chest again.
And then Stick Dog got out of there.
CHAPTER 10
A DEEP PROBLEM
Once he was back on all fours on the pavement, Stick Dog motioned quickly toward the woods and yelped, “Come on!”
There was enough urgency in his voice for the others to react immediately. They hurried several feet into the woods and stopped where Karen was still digging her hole with tremendous energy and enthusiasm. Only the tip of Karen’s tail stuck out of the hole. And dirt flew everywhere.
Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes hung their heads down into the hole to assess Karen’s progress.
While they did that, Stick Dog turned his head over his shoulder to look back at the truck. There were plenty of branches, leaves, weeds, and stuff between him and the truck. He felt safely hidden.
He saw the truck vibrate as the engine started. He heard the truck beep-beep-beep as it backed slowly out of its parking spot. He saw it turn toward the street. He looked through the windshield and saw Mike the meat man behind the steering wheel.
And Stick Dog saw someone else through that windshield too.
He saw that female German shepherd.
Her paws were up on the dashboard. Her face was right next to the windshield glass. Her eyes were open wide and darting all around. She was looking for something.
Lucy’s and Stick Dog’s eyes met for an instant before the truck completed its turn and pulled slowly away, gaining speed as it moved across the parking lot and onto the street.
“Hey, Stick Dog!” Poo-Poo yelled. “We’ve got a problem over here! Over at Karen’s hole!”
“On my way,” Stick Dog called back. He was happy to be distracted from his own thoughts. He felt a little queasy—a little out of sorts or something. “Here I come.”
As Stick Dog made his way back, he could see Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes standing around the edge of the hole.
But he could not see Karen.
At all.
Karen was completely out of sight, still digging with incredible intensity and vigor. Clumps of dirt flew out of the hole in every possible direction. Stick Dog stepped between Poo-Poo and Mutt and looked down.
He saw Karen at the bottom of the hole.
He couldn’t believe how deep it was.
“It was the coffee,” he whispered to himself as he stared down at Karen digging frantically. In a louder voice, he said, “Karen?”
She kept digging.
“Karen,” he called.
She kept digging.
“KAREN!” he yelled.
And Karen stopped digging.
“Yes, Stick Dog?” she called back, stretching her neck up to look out of the hole. “What’s up? Please try to make it fast, will you? This hole isn’t going to dig itself, you know!”
“I think you can, umm, stop digging now,” Stick Dog said.
“I can?”
“You can.”
“Why?”
“Well, it was just a way for you to get moving. You know, burn off a little energy. Remember?” Stick Do
g explained. “Besides, we’ve got some work to do. We need to figure out where that meat truck went.”
“Sounds good!” exclaimed Karen. “Let’s go!”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes all licked their lips. They liked the idea—and the prospects—of a meat-finding mission.
“But we have to solve a little problem first,” Stick Dog said calmly. He didn’t want Karen to realize that she was in a bit of a predicament.
“What’s that?” Karen asked.
“Well, we need to get you out of that hole.”
Karen then turned around slowly, examining the dirt walls surrounding her. She seemed to suddenly realize just how deep that hole was. She looked down at the dirt beneath her paws. She looked all the way up to the hole’s opening.
“Stick Dog?” she called.
“Yes?”
“I’m a really good digger, don’t you think?”
“I do,” Stick Dog answered, nodded, and smiled. He was happy that Karen wasn’t panicked. She was proud. “You’re a really, really good digger. For sure.”
“Stick Dog?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think it’s as deep as the Grand Canyon?”
“I’m not sure,” Stick Dog answered. “But it’s pretty close.”
Karen took a moment then and spun around slowly again, examining and admiring her handiwork. Then she looked back up at Stick Dog.
“Stick Dog?”
“Yes?”
“It’s a great hole and everything,” she called. “But I think it’s time to go on that meat-finding mission I’ve heard so much about.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Stick Dog said, and paused for three seconds. “But first we need to get you out of that hole.”
“Great idea,” Karen called back. “One question though.”
“Yes?”
“How are we going to do that?”
Before Stick Dog could answer, however, Stripes spoke up. She had a plan to get Karen out of that deep hole.
And so did Poo-Poo.
And so did Mutt.
CHAPTER 11
THE CIRCUS PLAN
“I know how to get Karen out of that hole,” Stripes declared with sheer confidence. “It’s perfectly simple.”
“How do we do it?” asked Stick Dog.
“We just go to the circus,” Stripes responded. “Easy stuff.”
“Umm, why do we go to the circus?” asked Stick Dog. He was kind enough not to mention that there had never been a circus around there. Ever.
“For the balloons, silly.”
“The balloons?”
“Of course,” Stripes replied. She seemed surprised that Stick Dog was not following along. “Circuses are loaded with balloons! They’re everywhere. Red ones. Blue ones. Yellow ones. All kinds!”
“Umm,” Stick Dog said, and paused for a few seconds. It looked like he was trying to figure out the best—and most polite—way to respond. “Why exactly do we need balloons?”
“It’s totally obvious, Stick Dog.”
“Can you, umm, just tell me anyway?”
“If you insist,” Stripes replied, a little annoyed. “We get, like, three or four balloons. Then we tie the strings around Karen’s belly. Then voilà! She just floats out of the hole. Easy-peasy, apple pie!”
“Great plan!” Karen yelled up her excited endorsement. “I love everything about it! The circus! The balloons! The floating! It’s awesome!”
Poo-Poo and Mutt were equally excited.
“It’s brilliant, Stripes!” Mutt exclaimed.
Poo-Poo added, “Totally!”
With everyone on board with her Karen-rescuing strategy, Stripes yelped, “Okay, then! Off we go to the circus! Follow me!”
Stripes, Mutt, and Poo-Poo took several quick steps away before Stick Dog stopped them.
“Wait!” he said loudly and clearly. There was not a hint of meanness or ridicule in his voice. “Wait, please!”
Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes stopped.
“What is it, Stick Dog?” asked Poo-Poo. “Is something wrong?”
Now, Stick Dog could have answered that question in a number of ways. He could have said his friends had no idea where they were going. He could have said they had never seen a circus anywhere around there. He could have said it would take hundreds—maybe thousands—of balloons to lift Karen out of that hole. He could have said there must be an easier way.
But Stick Dog didn’t say any of those things.
“I was just thinking,” Stick Dog said instead. He cocked his head at an angle and raised one eyebrow. “I like this whole circus-and-balloon plan very much. I think it’s clever and colorful and certainly well-meaning. But I have a problem with the circus part of the plan.”
“What’s the problem, Stick Dog?” asked Mutt.
“Well, circuses are great fun,” Stick Dog explained. He uncocked his head and lowered his eyebrow. “There are rides and games and animals. Humans dressed in funny costumes. I mean, they’re really, really exciting places.”
“What’s wrong with that, Stick Dog?”
“I just don’t think we should go someplace that exciting without Karen,” Stick Dog said. “I don’t think it would be fair. She’d miss out on all the fun. It would be sad.”
Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo hung their heads. They realized instantly that they didn’t want to go to the circus without their good friend Karen.
Then, suddenly, Stripes lifted her head. Something had popped into her mind.
“I know what to do, Stick Dog!” she screamed and jumped up and down three times. “I know how to solve the problem!”
Stick Dog asked, “How?”
“We take Karen with us, that’s how!” Stripes exclaimed. “That way she won’t miss out on any of the fun.”
Mutt and Poo-Poo seemed to like this idea too. They nodded their heads up and down rapidly.
“We, umm, can’t take Karen with us,” Stick Dog said slowly.
“Why not, Stick Dog?” asked Mutt sincerely.
“She’s, you know, stuck,” he answered, and pointed toward the hole just to remind everyone.
“Oh, right,” Stripes whispered.
“Come on, let’s go back over there and see how she’s doing,” Stick Dog said.
They all went back to the edge of the hole and looked down at Karen.
“Hey, guys!” Karen said. She was excited to see them. “Are you back from the circus already? Did you see any elephants? Did you ride a Ferris wheel? I wish I could have come with you. I’ve always wanted to go to a circus. Just throw down the balloons, and I’ll tie them around my belly!”
“Karen,” Stick Dog said. He didn’t think it was necessary to mention that they had only been gone about a minute and a half. Instead, he explained, “We think it might be a good idea to come up with a different plan.”
Karen shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.”
“I think if I just—” Stick Dog said.
But he was interrupted.
“Don’t worry,” Poo-Poo said quickly. “I know just what to do.”
CHAPTER 12
DROOL AND DROOL AND DROOL
Stick Dog really, really, really wanted to put some thinking into where that meat truck had gone—and to get Karen out of the hole. But he knew he would need to listen to Poo-Poo’s Karen-rescuing strategy first.
He asked, “What’s your plan, Poo-Poo?”
“It involves some very scientific thinking,” Poo-Poo said slowly, trying his best to appear studious and smart. “I’ve been pondering this problem for a long, long time.”
“How long, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt.
“Days and days,” Poo-Poo replied, and rubbed his chin with his right paw for several seconds. “Weeks even. The hardest problems often take a lengthy period of time to solve. And this one is a doozy, there’s no doubt about that.”
Stick Dog did not ask how Poo-Poo could have been thinking about Karen’s dilemma for weeks when she had only been at the bottom of tha
t hole for, you know, ten minutes or so.
Instead, he said, “It sounds like you’ve really put a lot of thought into a solution, Poo-Poo. What’s involved?”
“It all goes back to the theory of gravity. You know, that time when a watermelon fell out of a tree and hit Abraham Lincoln on the head,” Poo-Poo replied, nodding his head slowly. He then thought of other things that might be useful. “And we’ll need Yo-Yo Ma’s military strategy at Waterloo. And Neil Armstrong’s inspiration in the Gettysburg Address.”
Stick Dog almost laughed, but he lowered his head quickly and coughed instead.
Mutt observed, “I had no idea you knew about all that science stuff, Poo-Poo.”
Stripes was impressed too. She added, “And history. I mean, wow, you know a lot about history.”
“Oh, yeah. I know all about such things,” Poo-Poo said, trying to be modest but not really succeeding. “There’s Wilma Shakespeare’s Theory of Evolution, for example. And there was that time way back in 2014 when Mahatma Gandhi attached a key to a kite string, flew it during a thunderstorm, and discovered the planet Jupiter. And then, of course, there’s Harry Potter.”
“Who’s Harry Potter?” Karen called from the hole.
“He’s only one of the greatest thinkers of his generation.”
Despite his impatience, Stick Dog had to ask, “What did he do?”
“He invented the lightbulb,” Poo-Poo answered confidently.
“I thought that was, umm, Thomas Edison,” Stick Dog said.
“No, it was Harry Potter,” Poo-Poo added even more confidently. He didn’t like having his scientific knowledge and historical expertise questioned. “Thomas Edison was the first person to run a mile in less than four minutes.”
