Stick Dog Chases a Pizza

by Tom Watson

  “What?” asked Stripes. “It’s been what?”

  “Umm,” Karen said, and paused for a second or two. Then her eyes flashed open as she thought of the word she wanted. She said, “It’s been ‘kit-napped!’”

  “Kit-napped?” Stripes asked.

  “Yes,” Mutt added with pure conviction. “Karen’s right. This poor little creature has been kit-napped.”

  “I think you mean ‘kidnapped,’” Stick Dog said, but the others were too wrapped up in the situation to hear him.

  Poo-Poo was now growing more and more convinced about this theory. “Yes. Kit-napped,” he said. “This whole crisis is where that word comes from. There are evil humans who drive around in their big trucks capturing little kittens. They’re kit-nappers.”

  It was very silent for a few moments—except for the kitten’s continued mewing—as they digested this information. Stick Dog was trying to think of a way out of all this and a way to finally, finally get those pizza circles to lick. He looked back toward the Pizza Palace to ensure nobody was coming out.

  It was Stripes who broke the silence.

  She lowered her head and shook it slowly back and forth while staring at the pavement beneath her paws. “I swear,” she whispered. “Sometimes I don’t even know you guys.”

  “What do you mean, Stripes?” Karen asked.

  Stripes waited a moment, gathered herself a bit, and then began to speak very quickly in a lower voice than usual. “We are dogs,” she began. “Cats are our mortal enemies, our adversaries, our opponents in life.”

  “And squirrels,” Poo-Poo interrupted.

  “And mailmen,” added Karen.

  “And Phyllis, the raccoon,” Mutt said, and began to scratch his back on one of the truck’s tires.

  “As I was saying,” said Stripes in a way that made you think she didn’t want to be interrupted anymore. “Cats are our natural enemies. In the entire fifty-three-year history of the world, they’ve always been our enemies. Why, to suddenly start rescuing cats willy-nilly all over the place will turn everything upside down.”

  “What do you mean, Stripes?” Karen asked.

  “It’s just so unnatural, that’s what I mean. It will upset the natural order and balance of everything,” Stripes answered, and then tried to explain further with some examples. “The sun will start rising in the north instead of the south. The number four will come after the number seven—instead of after the number two like it does now. Red and blue will make yellow instead of orange.”

  “I never thought about all those consequences before,” Karen said sincerely. Mutt and Poo-Poo nodded along with this sentiment. It seemed as if they might be changing their minds about the whole rescue-the-kitty idea. But they certainly didn’t seem fully convinced. After a moment of careful thought, Poo-Poo seemed to switch back to their original position when he said, “I still think we ought to do it anyway. What do I care where the sun comes up?”

  Mutt and Karen nodded along with Poo-Poo. They had reconsidered their reconsideration too.

  Stick Dog couldn’t stand it any longer. They had to rescue this kitty and get to the pizza circles. He was just about to convince Stripes to join them all in rescuing the kitten. He opened his mouth to speak.

  But he didn’t have to.

  Do you know why?

  I’ll tell you.

  It was at that precise moment that the kitten inside the Big City Moving truck found its footing, clawed its way up to the window, and stretched himself fully upright against the glass.

  It was then that Stripes—natural enemy to all cats and kittens all over the world—said a most profound thing.

  Chapter 8

  A TRIANGULAR-SHAPED CASTLE

  “That’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen!” Stripes exclaimed after taking one look at the kitten through the window. She came bounding toward the truck to see him even closer. “We have to save it! We just have to!”

  Stick Dog, Karen, Mutt, and Poo-Poo all looked at Stripes—who was now waving and making funny faces at the kitten through the glass. She was apparently trying to brighten the little creature’s mood.

  “But, Stripes,” Stick Dog said. “Cats are our natural enemies. You said so yourself. We can’t save the kitty, can we?”

  Stripes had a very simple and succinct response.

  “Never mind what I said,” she answered. She was now shaking her head and wagging her tongue loosely from side to side, attempting to get the kitten’s attention. “I didn’t know it was so totally cute!”

  With that, the rescue attempt was on.

  “Time to stack up,” Poo-Poo suggested. “Just like when we were after those frankfurters. Let’s do that again.”

  And at this suggestion—and without any further consideration at all—Mutt, Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Karen began bumping into each other, climbing on top of one another, and tumbling off each other.

  Stick Dog stopped them as quickly as he could. He remembered how hard it had been—and how much time it had taken—back on that glorious frankfurter day. Ultimately, it had worked—they did get the frankfurters . . . just not quite in the way they had intended.

  “Hold it, you guys,” he said.

  Immediately, the others halted their actions, placed all their paws on the pavement, and squared up to face Stick Dog. They could tell by the confidence in his voice that he knew what to do.

  “We don’t need to stack up as high as we did on that day,” explained Stick Dog. “The top of that sheet on the clothesline was way higher than this truck’s window.”

  Everybody was listening closely except Stripes. She was flapping her arms like a chicken and jutting her head forward and back to try to get the kitten’s attention. The kitten did not seem to notice.

  “We’re going to make a pyramid,” Stick Dog instructed. “Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo on the bottom. Me in the middle. And Karen on the top to reach the kitten.”

  “A pyramid?!” Karen asked. It looked like she was appalled at the suggestion. “Stick Dog, I’m afraid you have your historical periods all mixed up. We’re at the Pizza Palace—you know: castles, kings and queens, that kind of thing. Not pyramids! Pyramids were around during caveman times. The cavemen would climb to the top of the pyramids to get away from the dinosaurs and Viking ships.”

  Stick Dog looked up at the sky and stared at the stars. He breathed deeply for several seconds. Then he said, “Thanks, Karen. Thanks for correcting me with your historical accuracy.”

  “Happy to help.”

  Stick Dog then immediately said, “We’re not going to build a pyramid. Instead, we’re going to build a triangular-shaped castle. Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo on the bottom. Me in the middle. And Karen on the top to reach the kitten.”

  “Great idea,” Karen said. “Much better.”

  After the bottom three dogs were in position, Poo-Poo asked, “Are we going to have to share those cardboard pizza circles with the kitten?”

  “Of course,” answered Stick Dog. “We always share the food we find with the whole group. The kitten will be part of the group.”

  “Hmm,” Poo-Poo said. “I’d like to reconsider this entire rescue operation then.”

  “Too late,” said Stick Dog. “Brace yourselves—I’m climbing up.”

  And that’s just what Stick Dog did.

  And when he was stable atop Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Mutt, he said, “Okay, Karen. Come on up.”

  As Karen began to climb up, Stick Dog stretched his neck higher to look at the kitten through the window. During all the commotion of getting stacked up, he hadn’t noticed that the kitten had stopped mewing and whining. He hoped it hadn’t left the window.

  It hadn’t.

  It was still standing there, arms outstretched and paws pressed against the window glass.

  Stick Dog could feel Karen climbing up.

  “Hold on a second, Karen,” he said.

  Stick Dog looked at the kitten’s face. It didn’t look scared at all. It was no longer
panicked or whining.

  It was smiling.

  But it wasn’t smiling at Stick Dog. It was sort of smiling past him. Stick Dog turned his head over his shoulder. Karen was still waiting to come up. Stick Dog wanted to see and understand what made the kitten suddenly happy. When he looked back at the Pizza Palace, Stick Dog instantly understood what was happening.

  There was a big human with a long neck about to exit the Pizza Palace. Stick Dog could see him through the glass door holding two square, cardboard boxes. He was pushing the door open with his right knee.

  Stick Dog whipped his head around and looked at the kitten once more. Its smile was even wider.

  Stick Dog said only four words.

  And he said them fast.

  “Run for the ditch!”

  Chapter 9

  SOUL MATES

  There was no hesitation when the others heard the urgency in Stick Dog’s voice. Karen jumped down and sprinted toward the ditch. Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes ran as fast as they could too. Unfortunately for Stick Dog, this meant that his paws were no longer standing on anything, and he tumbled and fell. His left side smashed against the blacktop, but he got up immediately and dashed toward the ditch.

  When he got there, Stick Dog looked over the edge. Mutt, Poo-Poo, Karen, and Stripes huddled together at the bottom. There was panic and fear on their faces. They didn’t know what was going on.

  “Shh,” Stick Dog said, and held a paw to his lips. “Stay here.”

  From a safe distance, Stick Dog watched the man with the long neck walk out of the Pizza Palace with two of those flat, square boxes.

  “Good luck in the big city, Goose!” a man with a poufy hat called from the doorway.

  “Take care of that new kitty, Goose!” yelled the delivery girl.

  The man, who was apparently named Goose because of his long neck, waved back as he got to the truck.

  “What’s going on, Stick Dog?” whispered Karen, who was now at his side. Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes were watching too.

  “Shh,” Stick Dog said, and watched some more.

  The man with the long neck opened the passenger-side door and placed the cardboard boxes on the seat. Stick Dog was surprised to see that the kitten did not make a run for it but instead looked up longingly at the man—and mewed a single time.

  The man smiled, scooped up the kitten, and walked around the moving truck to the driver’s side. As he did, Stick Dog could hear him talk in a soothing and loving voice to the kitten.

  “Did you think I wasn’t coming back?” he asked, and stroked the kitten along the spine. “I’m sorry you had to wait here by yourself, little fellah. But I had to get my favorite pizza one last time. Who knows when we will be back here?”

  With that, the man put the kitten back in the moving truck, climbed in beside him, and started the engine.

  “I can’t believe it,” Stick Dog said.

  “What?” asked all the others.

  “That kitten wanted to stay with the human,” he explained. “It didn’t want to be rescued. It just wanted its human to come back, that’s all. That’s why it was whining so much.”

  “I’m going to miss the little guy,” Stripes said sincerely. “It was like we had a special connection.”

  “Aren’t you the one who didn’t want to rescue him in the first place?” asked Poo-Poo.

  “Let’s not live in the past,” Stripes said nonchalantly. “Instead, let me relish the special bond created here in this unique moment. I want to remember every detail of my time with that little cutie.”

  Karen, Mutt, and Poo-Poo kept shifting their heads back and forth, looking at Stripes and then at one another. They were trying to make some sense of what Stripes was saying. Ultimately, they all turned to Stick Dog for understanding.

  But this time Stick Dog just shrugged. He looked up at the sky—at the stars and the moon—and held perfectly still. It was as if he was seeking some sense of calm or inner peace while he was waiting for something to finish.

  “We were more than just friends,” Stripes continued as they all listened in bewilderment. She was now speaking in a tone that was more like a sigh than anything. “It was more than family. It was like we were soul mates.”

  “Soul mates?” Poo-Poo asked.

  “Soul mates,” Stripes confirmed.

  “You didn’t even know his name,” Karen said, still trying to understand what was going on.

  “I gave him a name.”

  “You did?”

  “I named him after Stick Dog,” Stripes said. “Because Stick Dog came up with the triangular-shaped-castle rescue plan.”

  “You can’t call a kitten ‘Stick Dog,’ ” Mutt said.

  “I didn’t name it exactly after Stick Dog.”

  “What’s its name then?” Karen asked. She was genuinely curious now. “Stick Dog Junior? Stick Dog, the Second?”

  “No, silly.” Stripes smiled and then paused for dramatic tension. She liked that everyone was paying such close attention to her. “His name is Stick Cat.”

  Mutt, Karen, and Poo-Poo all began laughing and chortling at this new name.

  Stick Dog did not, however. He lowered his head, looked Stripes in the eyes, and said simply, “Stripes, I consider that quite an honor.”

  It was then that Stripes turned and watched as the red taillights of the Big City Moving truck grew smaller and dimmer as it rolled away.

  Stripes waved at it and called, “Good luck in the big city, Stick Cat! May you find freedom and joy in your new surroundings! Be well, my sweet comrade and fuzzy soul mate!”

  The drama—and the time it was taking—had become too much even for Stick Dog to endure. He hushed Karen, Poo-Poo, and Mutt, who were still giggling, and said to Stripes, “Let’s go get those pizza circles.”

  As the red taillights faded to blackness, Stripes sighed, “It’s just so sad to see him go.”

  Stick Dog came closer and lowered his voice a little. “I know, Stripes, I know,” he said. “But there is one good thing that you might consider.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We won’t have to share any of the pizza circles we find.”

  Stripes considered this for a moment and looked back down the street to confirm that the truck had indeed disappeared. And then her stomach rumbled. “You make a good point,” she said. “What’s our next step?”

  Chapter 10

  A REALLY STRONG ANT

  “Does anybody remember where we were going before we discovered the kitten who didn’t want to be rescued?” asked Stick Dog.

  “Back to your pipe to lick the pizza circles?” asked Karen.

  “We don’t have them yet,” sighed Stick Dog.

  “To find swords and cannons and stuff to attack the palace with?” suggested Poo-Poo.

  “It’s not a real palace, remember?” Stick Dog said. He lowered his head for a moment and closed his eyes.

  “Stick Dog, are you okay?” asked Mutt. He was tilting his head and trying to get a better look at Stick Dog’s face. “You look frustrated or something.”

  “I know what it is,” said Stripes before Stick Dog himself had a chance to answer. She had stepped her way close to him and continued in a soft and loving voice. It was the kind of voice your grandma uses when she forgets how old you are—when she thinks you’re much younger. Stripes continued, “Poor old Stick Dog is missing that cute little kitty already. Aren’t you, Stick Dog? Are you missing the fuzzy-wuzzy kitty? Is that what’s bothering you?”

  Stick Dog raised his head. His lips were squeezed tightly together. He took a deep inhale of night air, and his facial muscles seemed to relax a little.

  “I’m just a little hungry is all,” he whispered.

  Stripes’s voice remained the same when she said, “Are you sure you don’t miss the cuddly-wuddly kitty cat?”

  “I’m sure,” Stick Dog answered immediately. He turned his head and eyed the Pizza Palace. He realized again just how close they were to that delicious flavo
r. He just had to lick some more of those cardboard pizza circles. His face grew instantly more serious. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his jaw was firmly set, and there was a renewed seriousness in his voice. “We have to sneak up to the Pizza Palace window to see what we’re up against. We need to gather any information that might be useful.”

  Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes could sense the fresh energy and commitment in both Stick Dog’s voice and stature. They nodded their heads in understanding.

  Stick Dog saw this, nodded back, and said simply, “Let’s go.”

  They raced across the parking lot, past the delivery car, and to the sidewalk in front of the Pizza Palace.

  Stick Dog scanned the inside of the place as fast as he could, turning his head left and right for information. When he was done, back they all went. They ran from the windowsill and across the parking lot, scooted under the guardrail, and slid down into the ditch.

  “Okay,” panted Stick Dog. “I got a pretty good look around. And I know you guys did too. Let’s gather all our information and then make a plan to get those circles. Stripes, what did you see?”

  “There were two people inside,” Stripes said. “One man behind the counter with a funny-looking cloud over his head. And the delivery girl was sitting in a chair by the door. Stick Dog, why are there clouds inside?”

  “I think that was something he was tossing up and down over his head,” said Stick Dog. “Not a cloud. But that was a great job. Thanks for being so observant.”

  By this time, however, Stripes had started digging a little hole in the dirt.

  Stick Dog turned to Mutt. “What did you see?”

  “An ant carrying a big crumb,” answered Mutt.

  “Inside the Pizza Palace?”

  “No, silly,” chortled Mutt. “On the sidewalk right under the window. He was really strong! That crumb must have been four times his size! It was quite something, I must tell you.”