Stick Dog Tries to Take the Donuts

by Tom Watson

  The man picked up his toolbox and climbed into the narrow compartment at the end of the long, mechanical crane. Using his fingers to manipulate the joystick and control the crane, he rose high in the air. When he got to the top of the telephone pole, the man stepped out of the basket and onto the platform.

  Stick Dog couldn’t believe it.

  They had been here for only a short while and had found food. More miraculously, the human eating the food had just left—and left the food behind. Stick Dog could see the box sitting on the back of the truck right next to the big Styrofoam cup.

  Stick Dog stared up at the man at the top of the pole. His back was turned as he worked. He looked pretty busy. Stick Dog thought there was a pretty good chance the man would remain turned that way. And even if he did look around and discover them, by the time he came down with that long crane, the dogs would have plenty of time to escape into the forest.

  “Come on!” Stick Dog whispered urgently. “Now’s our chance!”

  “Chance to what?” Poo-Poo asked.

  “Our chance to get some of those things the human was eating!”

  “Oh, that,” said Poo-Poo. “Don’t you think we should first decide if they’re food or not? We’ve had quite a spirited discussion about the subject while you dillydallyed about with whatever you were doing. Shouldn’t we settle the debate first?”

  “We can talk more about it later if you’d like,” Stick Dog said kindly. “Right now, let’s just go have a look. It looked like that human thought those things were really tasty.”

  This was enough to get Poo-Poo and the others moving. They followed Stick Dog out from the edge of the woods—and carefully across the street to the truck. In just fourteen seconds, Stick Dog was up on his hind legs. He could reach the box easily. He folded the box flaps back. He read “Dizzy’s Donuts—A Baker’s Dozen in Every Box!” as he flipped the flaps open.

  There were eleven more circular objects in the box. There were a couple of pink ones with speckles, some covered in white powder, and some light brown and dark brown circles as well. Some of them were shiny and some were not.

  “There are a lot in here, but we’ll just take one for now. I don’t think he’ll notice if only one is missing,” Stick Dog whispered. He plucked a pink one out and held it carefully in his mouth.

  Stick Dog pushed the box flaps closed with his nose and noticed a sticker that read, “2 for 1 special! Buy one box, get another free!” There was no time to think about what that meant. He wanted to get back to safety as fast as possible.

  Stick Dog nodded toward the woods and ran that way. Mutt, Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Karen followed close behind.

  Once they were well hidden among the apple trees and brush again, Stick Dog used his paws to tear the pink speckled circle into five roughly equal parts. He was careful to take the smallest portion for himself.

  Poo-Poo finished his bite first and instantly declared, “That was no rubber ball! Or Frisbee.” He lifted his head in the air, closed his eyes, and moved his tongue around inside his mouth to both recapture and remember the flavors. Then he added, “It combines a sudden sugar rush with a light, airy texture. For being such a small thing, it’s packed with sweetness and power.”

  “Just like me,” Karen said, and giggled.

  Poo-Poo, who didn’t appreciate having his food descriptions interrupted, gave Karen a quick and curt glance, but she was already stepping away from the others for some reason. Maybe she had another itch.

  “Like I was saying,” Poo-Poo continued. “This combination of sweetness and texture manages to both awaken my palate and satisfy—in a small way—my stomach. I don’t know what those things are, but I LOVE them!”

  The other dogs all agreed. Well, Karen didn’t agree. She wasn’t there anymore.

  “They’re called ‘donuts,’” Stick Dog said. He too savored the lingering flavor in his mouth. “It said so on the box.”

  “‘Donuts,’ huh?” Poo-Poo said. He seemed to be testing out this word he had never heard before. “Well, I’m a big fan of these so-called ‘donuts.’”

  “Me too!” said Mutt and Stripes simultaneously.

  “Well, there are plenty more in the box. We just need to wait for the right time to go back and get them,” encouraged Stick Dog. Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo gathered around him then. Their faces were eager and enthusiastic. They wanted more donuts, that was certain.

  But something was wrong.

  Someone was missing.

  And it only took Stick Dog one-third of one second to notice. Quickly, he asked the others, “Where did Karen go?”

  It didn’t take long to find her.

  Stick Dog snapped his head around to look at the truck.

  Karen was there. She had pulled herself up to the back bumper and was standing on it.

  Stick Dog looked down at the ground, closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly back and forth. When he lifted his head to take another look, he could see Karen’s body—but not her head.

  And he could see something else too.

  The worker up on the platform was looking for something on his tool belt. He couldn’t seem to find whatever he needed. He climbed back into the basket and put his fingers on the joystick. He was coming down.

  And headed right toward Karen.

  Chapter 7

  BIG GULP COFFEE

  Stick Dog heard the truck’s mechanical arm whir to life. The worker concentrated on the joystick device that controlled the truck’s arm. Stick Dog didn’t think the man could see Karen from the angle of his descent. Stick Dog estimated he had a little more than one minute to get Karen back before the man reached the ground. That wasn’t much time.

  “Karen!” he called quietly. Stick Dog was concealed safely behind some old, fallen branches, but he couldn’t risk calling too loudly. “Karen! Get back here!”

  “Where is she, Stick Dog?” Mutt asked. He, Poo-Poo, and Stripes now peered through the tree branches and foliage too.

  “She’s right there,” Stick Dog said, and pointed with his nose. “She’s got her head in that big Styrofoam cup.”

  “How do you know that’s her?” asked Poo-Poo in a whisper.

  Stick Dog hesitated for a split second before answering. “It’s her tail and her body sticking out of the cup. Don’t you see?”

  Poo-Poo answered, “I see all that, yes. But it’s really the head that makes a dog, don’t you think? And we can’t see that thing’s head. It might not be Karen at all.”

  Stick Dog couldn’t believe what he heard.

  “Yes, Stick Dog. It could be anybody,” Stripes chimed in.

  The man was fifty-seven seconds away.

  “Maybe it’s Phyllis, the raccoon,” Mutt suggested. He always tried to help in this kind of way.

  Stick Dog decided instantly not to partake in any further discussion with Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes. Instead he called out sharply again, “Karen! Karen! The big man’s coming back!”

  Karen’s body didn’t move in any way to indicate she heard Stick Dog. In fact, it seemed that she pushed her head even farther into the cup.

  The man was forty-six seconds away.

  Meanwhile, the conversation among Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo continued.

  “I don’t think it’s Phyllis, Mutt,” said Poo-Poo. “Raccoons have striped, puffy tails. And that tail sticking out of the cup isn’t puffy at all. That tail is more like a giraffe’s, I think. Maybe there’s a giraffe in the cup.”

  “Good point,” Mutt conceded.

  “Karen!!” Stick Dog called again.

  The man was thirty-seven seconds away.

  “Maybe it’s a raccoon who had its tail groomed,” suggested Stripes.

  “Hey, you know what?” Poo-Poo said suddenly. It seemed as if a new idea had popped into his mind. “You know whose tail that does look like?”

  “Whose?” Mutt and Stripes asked in unison.

  The man was twenty-eight seconds away from descending all the way down to the ground�
��and climbing out of the basket. And Karen couldn’t even see him coming.

  Stick Dog understood the problem. Karen had burrowed her head so deep into that large Styrofoam cup that her ears were inside. She couldn’t hear him.

  In the meantime, Poo-Poo answered Stripes and Mutt. He exclaimed, “That tail looks like Karen’s! I wonder if that might be her.”

  “Hmm, I never thought of that,” said Mutt.

  “It’s possible, I guess,” said Stripes. She didn’t sound completely convinced yet.

  The man was nineteen seconds away.

  “Hey, Stick Dog!” Poo-Poo said, and twisted around to face him. “I think it might be Karen in that cup. Hey, where’s Stick Dog?”

  But Stick Dog didn’t hear Poo-Poo at all. He had already leaped from the forest’s edge and raced toward Karen. When he reached the truck, he placed his front paws on the back bumper. He bit down softly on the loose skin at the back of Karen’s neck—she hadn’t, thank goodness, pushed any farther into the cup.

  “I found him,” Poo-Poo said slowly as he stared out of the woods. He couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. He couldn’t understand why Stick Dog had Karen in his mouth.

  Neither could the others apparently.

  “Why is he eating Karen?” Mutt asked. “I mean, if it’s even her.”

  “He’s been hungry before,” Stripes added. “But never so hungry that he ate one of us. At least, as far as I can remember. I’m almost certain he’s never eaten me.”

  “Although, I must say, Karen does look rather delicious, if you think about it,” said Poo-Poo as he watched Stick Dog struggle to return as quickly as he could with Karen in his mouth. The truck’s arm was almost all the way down now. And its whirring motor slowed and made less noise. “Remember that time she imitated a frankfurter? I have to admit, she was a pretty good-looking frankfurter.”

  “True,” Mutt said.

  By this time, of course, Stick Dog was nearly back to them. When he made it into the woods with the others, he set Karen down on the ground and slowly unclenched his grip on the nape of her neck.

  Because the large cup was still on her head, they couldn’t really tell if she even noticed being set down at all. In fact, the only motion she made was to push her head farther into the cup again.

  The big man was out of the basket and standing at the back of the truck now. The motor was completely shut down. Stick Dog had made it back into the forest cover just in time.

  He stood there panting to catch his breath. Karen was small—all dachshunds are—but Stick Dog was surprised at just how heavy she actually was. It had not been easy to sprint back to safety with her in his mouth. As he tried to catch his breath, Karen shoved her head deeper into the cup. Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes stepped closer to him.

  “Stick Dog,” Mutt said.

  Stick Dog nodded toward him. He was panting too hard to answer. But he smiled at Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo as they approached. He knew they were about to congratulate him. Rescuing Karen had not been easy, after all.

  “We have something to say to you,” Mutt began. He seemed to be speaking for the other two.

  Stick Dog nodded again.

  “I don’t know how to say this,” Mutt continued, then paused in a sort of awkward and uncomfortable way. He inhaled deeply and said, “Poo-Poo, Stripes, and I really don’t think you should eat Karen.”

  Stick Dog stared at Mutt.

  Now that Mutt had broached the subject, Poo-Poo and Stripes joined in.

  “It’s really not very polite, Stick Dog,” Stripes said. “I mean, I know you’re hungry and everything. We all are. But chewing on Karen like that just doesn’t seem right.”

  Stick Dog started to get his breath back a bit.

  Poo-Poo asked, “You know that she isn’t a frankfurter, right? She’s not. She’s a dog. A dog, Stick Dog. Not a frankfurter.”

  “I wasn’t,” Stick Dog panted, “eating her. I was rescuing her. That big guy came down from the top of the pole. And she couldn’t hear him or see him because her head is stuffed inside that cup.”

  “Why did you stuff her head into the cup, Stick Dog?” Mutt asked sincerely. “Were you trying to hide her in there or what?”

  “I didn’t stuff her . . . ,” Stick Dog began, but he was interrupted by Poo-Poo.

  “I bet I know why,” he said. His face had turned suddenly stern. His jaw was clenched tight, and he squinted his eyes slightly. “You tried to drink her first, didn’t you, Stick Dog? You stuffed poor, little, helpless Karen into that cup to drink her. And when that didn’t work out, you decided to eat her instead.”

  “That’s terrible!” exclaimed Stripes.

  Mutt shook his head sadly. “You should know better, Stick Dog.”

  By now, Stick Dog had caught his breath fully. And while you may think he would be mad that his friends had accused him of trying to eat (or drink) Karen, the opposite was actually true. He found it all sort of amusing. And now that Karen was safely back with them, he felt relief more than anything.

  “You guys,” said Stick Dog. “I wasn’t trying to eat—or drink—Karen. She was about to be seen by that huge human. She couldn’t hear me because her head is in the cup. I had to pick her up and bring her back.”

  “You were chewing on her, Stick Dog,” said Poo-Poo. “We all saw it.”

  “That was the only way I could pick her up without hurting her. Look, I’ll show you.”

  Stick Dog reached down and gently pulled the Styrofoam cup off Karen’s head. It was stubbornly stuck for a few seconds, but then popped off easily.

  “See, no bite marks or anything,” Stick Dog said, and pointed. “I was very gentle.”

  Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo examined Karen’s neck while she licked furiously at the rim of the cup. There were a few brown drops of liquid there.

  After a few seconds, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Mutt apologized to Stick Dog. It turned out, they now realized, that he wasn’t trying to eat (or drink) Karen after all. With that determined, their attention shifted quickly to her.

  She was acting strangely.

  “What do you want, Stick Dog?” Karen asked as she continued to lap at the rim of the cup. She didn’t lift her head at all to speak, and her words came out faster than usual. “I heard you calling.”

  “You did?” Stick Dog was obviously surprised.

  “Sure thing! Totally.”

  “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “I couldn’t. I just couldn’t! I had to finish drinking this brown liquid! Had to!” Karen exclaimed. She then gripped the cup’s rim in her mouth. She tilted her head back in an attempt to get the very last drops from the bottom. When she finally shook the last drop out onto her tongue, Karen dropped the cup to the ground.

  “You’re talking funny,” Stick Dog said to Karen. Then he looked at the cup that had now rolled to a stop. He read the words on the side out loud, “Dizzy’s Big GULP Coffee.”

  “Coffee? That’s what it’s called?” Karen asked urgently. “I’m going to remember that. Coffee, coffee, coffee!”

  Stick Dog asked, “How full was that cup when you took your first drink?”

  “Almost totally full. Almost totally. Real high. To the top. Not anymore though! It’s empty. I drank every drop. I couldn’t stop!” Karen said, and giggled.

  “I see,” said Stick Dog slowly.

  “I see. You see. We all see. For coffee,” Karen sang, and giggled again. “I just made that up. It rhymes and everything. Just made it up. Right here. Right now!”

  “You seem kind of hyper or something,” Stick Dog said.

  While Stick Dog was extremely curious about Karen’s hyperactivity and the strange new way she talked, the other dogs had lost interest. Their thoughts returned to far more urgent matters.

  “We really do need to get some more of those donuts, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said. He licked a few crumbs from his lips and whiskers. “That thing was fantastic!”

  “Stick Dog?”

  “Yes, Kar
en?”

  “I’m going to chase my tail now,” she said. “I just really need to move. Like right now. Fast.”

  “Umm, okay. Go ahead,” Stick Dog said.

  Karen immediately began chasing her tail with tremendous energy and glee. She spun clockwise for about half a minute. Then she stopped and panted for a few seconds. Instantly, she began chasing her tail counterclockwise just as fast. This process continued while Stick Dog and the others talked.

  “I agree with Poo-Poo,” Mutt said. “We should fetch some more of those donuts. Those things are scrumptious.”

  Stick Dog nodded and repeated, “I like the idea. But it will be tough getting past this guy.”

  He stopped to peer out at the man, hoping that maybe he had climbed into the basket to go to the top of the pole again.

  He hadn’t—but he was doing a most unusual thing. He searched all around on the ground and in the back of his truck and muttered to himself, “Coffee . . . coffee. Where did I put my coffee?”

  At hearing this, Karen abruptly stopped spinning.

  “Did someone say ‘coffee’?!” she asked. “Let’s get some. I’m in. Let’s do it! Like right now.”

  “You really liked that coffee, didn’t you, Karen?” asked Stripes.

  “Liked it? I LOVED it! Coffee, coffee, coffee!!” Karen squealed. “Stick Dog?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to run into the woods and back again, okay?”

  “Umm,” Stick Dog began to respond. But he didn’t say anything else. Karen was already gone.

  Stick Dog would have watched Karen—her behavior really was quite peculiar—but Stripes grabbed his attention.

  She said, “Stick Dog, the man’s leaving.”

  He was indeed. The man had picked up a wrench and climbed back into the mechanical arm’s basket. Stick Dog heard him mutter to himself some more.