by Tom Watson
Stick Dog felt certain about one thing: as long as the fireworks continued, no human would come back. He hustled back to his friends, hopped up onto the table, and felt his heart warm with pleasure. Mutt, Karen, Stripes, and Poo-Poo were chowing down.
Karen’s face was buried in one side of a long, deep, silver tray of mashed potatoes. Mutt had found the potatoes too. He had just taken two seconds to lift his head out of the white heap of food. Melted butter dripped from his whiskers. He inhaled—and plunged his head back into the potatoes.
Poo-Poo and Stripes sat back and held barbecue ribs up between their front paws and gnawed tender meat off the bones.
Stick Dog saw a big tray full of leaves, tomatoes, and other natural things. He and his friends had foraged for similar items before. He saw dinner rolls that looked—and smelled—similar to the hamburger and hot dog buns they had often found. But it was the barbecue ribs and mashed potatoes that his friends had rightfully zeroed in on.
And Stick Dog joined them.
He went to the potatoes first. But after several delicious bites and gulps, Stick Dog stopped eating.
So did Mutt, Karen, and Stripes.
That’s because Poo-Poo had something to say.
Before he spoke, however, another giant Boom! came from the sky, and Karen screamed, “What the HECK was that?!”
“The fireworks,” answered Stick Dog. “We’re going to keep hearing those big noises for a while, I think.”
“You’re sure that’s what it is?”
“I’m sure.”
“Not a cannon? Or a thunderstorm?!”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s not the end of the world as we know it?” Karen asked urgently as her eyelashes fluttered nervously. She wanted to be certain. “Everything’s going to be okay? You’re fine with all this booming everywhere around us?”
“It’s not the end of the world as we know it,” Stick Dog answered calmly. “And I feel fine.”
Karen seemed satisfied with Stick Dog’s response, nodded, and then turned to Poo-Poo.
She and the others knew his refined and sophisticated description of newfound food was not to be missed.
“This unassuming, curved, sticklike object is a delightful surprise,” Poo-Poo began. A drop of barbecue sauce dripped from his chin. He held a single rib up in the air and turned it, eyeing it closely. “There’s definitely meat here. It’s tender and warm, and it’s a great pleasure to pull and tear at it. It provides awesome gnawing satisfaction. But it’s the brown sauce that makes the dish. It’s truly spectacular, leaving a sweet, tangy, tingly, slightly spicy finish on the back of my palate.”
“What is it, Poo-Poo?” asked Karen.
“It’s familiar—very familiar,” Poo-Poo answered, and licked his lips for additional evidence. “I get hints of brown sugar, pepper, and paprika. I taste tomato, vinegar, and Worcestershire sauce too. They all combine to make a thick, aromatic, scrumptious—and familiar—taste sensation.”
Poo-Poo snapped his head down just then. “I know what this flavor is!”
“What is it?” asked Stripes.
“It tastes like Karen’s favorite potato chips.”
Karen squealed. “It tastes like barbecue potato chips! Are you kidding me?! But with meat?! Barbecue and meat together?!”
Poo-Poo nodded.
“This might be,” Karen said, and paused. It was difficult to tell for sure—what with the lighting in the gazebo and all—but it looked as if tears welled up in little Karen’s eyes just then. “This might be the greatest day since January sixteenth.”
“The one day when you caught your tail?” Stick Dog asked.
Karen nodded and wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her left front paw.
Then she pushed off the table with her mighty dachshund leg muscles and soared through the air. She landed right next to the tray of ribs—and plunged her head into the sweet, tangy barbecue sauce.
While she did that, Poo-Poo returned to his description.
“There’s more,” Poo-Poo teased. “There’s one thing more.”
Stick Dog turned his head to ensure the fireworks show was still happening. It was. He then asked, “What is it, Poo-Poo?”
“After you tear the meat off and lick all the sauce, there’s a tantalizing final treat. A great finishing tribute to the dish.”
“What is it?” asked Stripes.
Poo-Poo paused four seconds and then whispered, “A bone.”
“A bone?” Stripes asked. You could tell she didn’t quite know what to make of this new information.
Stick Dog tried to help. He said, “Dogs love bones.”
“I see,” Stripes said, but she didn’t seem to comprehend the relevance just yet. She didn’t quite make the connection.
Stick Dog helped some more. He added, “And you’re a dog.”
“That’s right. I am,” Stripes said slowly. After a few seconds, her head gave a slight jerk. Her body trembled. She got it now. “I’ll love bones!”
Stick Dog nodded, and Stripes grabbed a rib and licked and gnawed at it with terrific enthusiasm. You could tell she was anxious to get to the bone part of this newfangled food.
There were plenty of things on the long buffet tables, including mashed potatoes, salad, and soft bread rolls. But after Poo-Poo’s excellent—and savory—description, barbecue ribs were the only food items on any of their minds. Even Stick Dog, after peering into the sky to guarantee the fireworks show continued, took a spot along the massive tray of ribs and snatched one to enjoy with his friends.
For several minutes, the red, yellow, white, and blue fireworks exploded in the black sky in dazzling showers of bright, sizzling light.
And for several minutes, each dog devoured a rib.
And another rib.
And another rib.
And another, and another, and another.
Only one snippet of conversation interrupted their feast.
“We’re totally safe, right, Stick Dog?” asked Stripes after her third rib. She didn’t seem frightened or concerned at all. It was more like she wanted to have as much time as possible with those barbecue ribs.
“It’s fine,” Stick Dog assured. He had been glancing up at the sky and listening for the whistling sound of soaring firework rockets. “As long as the fireworks are happening, no humans will see us.”
Stripes smiled and shoved her head into the tray to grab another rib.
And Stick Dog was absolutely right.
No human would see them.
But somebody else would.
CHAPTER 12
SOMEONE SPOTS STICK DOG
Now, Stick Dog and his friends were in the gazebo at the top of the hill. And the humans and the cats were at the bottom of the hill. The fireworks continued to explode high in the sky. Stick Dog knew they were safe.
What he didn’t know was that Edith was about to play a trick on Stick Cat. And that trick would jeopardize the dogs’ entire mission.
Here’s what happened.
Stick Cat stared into the sky with absolute wonder. His whole life—well, the part of his life he could mostly remember—had been spent on the twenty-third floor of a tall apartment building in the big city.
He loved to sit on the windowsill and stare out at the city. It was always so busy with sights and sounds. Flashing signs lit up everywhere. Traffic moved, slowed, and paused, and then moved again like a living thing. Sunlight flashed and reflected against thousands of windows on dozens of buildings.
But there was one thing he didn’t see much of from that windowsill perch.
The sky.
Although he could see patches of sky here and there between skyscrapers, factories, and apartment towers, he had never seen the sky’s great expanse.
But he did now. He saw black sky in every direction. He saw the silver sliver of the moon. And every thirty seconds one of those amazing explosions of colorful light would splash across that blackness, fade away, and reveal the darkness a
gain.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Stick Cat said to Edith.
“What’s that?” Edith mumbled.
“It’s amazing, don’t you think?” Stick Cat repeated. “The sky, the stars, the colors, everything.”
“I was sleeping,” Edith sighed, and yawned.
“Sorry.”
“There’s nothing like a nap after a huge meal,” Edith said. She didn’t seem annoyed. It appeared as if this catnap had refreshed her a bit. She pushed herself up and arched her back to stretch. “I love a good snooze with a full tummy.”
Stick Cat smiled.
“There’s only one thing that would make this evening even better,” Edith commented.
“Mm-hmm?” Stick Cat semi-answered. Honestly, he was only half listening to his best friend. He focused mainly on the sky and the fireworks.
Edith noticed that he wasn’t giving her his full attention.
She huffed and then said, “I said, there’s only one thing that would make this evening even better.”
Stick Cat heard that huff. He had heard it before. And he knew what it meant. He turned and, this time, focused intently on Edith.
“What is it?” he asked politely. “What would make this better?”
“An after-dinner treat,” Edith answered.
Stick Cat nodded. “I suppose it would.”
“Like maybe another one of those barbecue ribs,” Edith suggested. She pushed her back legs out one at a time as if she was about to get moving.
“That would be good. You’re right,” Stick Cat concurred. He had enjoyed those ribs just as much as Edith. They were absolutely delicious.
Edith looked at Stick Cat. The left side of her mouth curled up a millimeter or two, showing the hint of a smile. But Stick Cat didn’t notice.
Edith asked, “Would you like another one of those barbecue ribs right now?”
“Sure.”
“Great,” Edith said, and plopped back down to the grass. “Get me one too when you’re there.”
“What?!”
“Get me one when you go.”
Stick Cat quickly understood what she had done to him.
“You want me to get you another rib?”
“Oh, I would never ask you to do that. I would never ask you to make a special trip just for me,” Edith replied while she curled herself into a more comfortable position. “But since you’re going anyway, sure. I’ll take another rib.”
Stick Cat shook his head and smiled. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Great,” Edith said, and closed her eyes. “Wake me up when you get back.”
Stick Cat started up that hill toward the gazebo. On the way he shook his head again, smiled, and said to himself, “Only Edith.”
When Stick Cat got to the top of that hill, he stopped at the edge of the gazebo.
He didn’t go any farther.
And he didn’t get Edith another barbecue rib.
He stopped and stared at five dogs on top of the buffet table. They were all eating ribs. They were the same five dogs from the Pizza Palace parking lot.
“They were definitely hungry,” Stick Cat whispered. “I knew it.”
He decided right then not to bring another rib to Edith. He would tell her they were gone. He wanted those five hungry dogs to have them all.
Stick Cat slowly backed down the hill.
CHAPTER 13
GRAND FINALE
Rib bones were scattered all around Stick Dog, Poo-Poo, Mutt, Stripes, and Karen. The meat was totally gone. The thick, brown barbecue sauce was licked off them all. Wet with the dogs’ saliva, the bones shone and glistened. The long, silver tray was now empty—and licked clean.
“What’s next?” Poo-Poo asked.
Stick Dog looked left and right across the buffet table. There were plenty of mashed potatoes left, dozens of bread rolls, and a whole tray of tossed salad.
But something else had caught his eye again. That table off to the side—that tall object with the covering over it. What was it?
Stick Dog wanted to know.
It was more than curiosity that drove him.
It was instinct.
There was something under there.
He suspected it was something delicious.
He had to know what it was.
“You guys eat whatever else you want,” Stick Dog said. “There are plenty of things to choose from.”
“What are you going to eat, Stick Dog?” asked Karen. “I can recommend that puffy white pile over there. It’s pretty good. Not as good as barbecue ribs, mind you, but still fairly tasty.”
“I might try that in a minute,” Stick Dog said. “I want to take a peek at that tall thing over there.”
“I think I know what it is,” offered Stripes. “It’s that rocket ship from earlier. It’s the right shape and everything.”
Stick Dog glanced toward Stripes to see if she was joking.
She wasn’t.
“Umm, I thought we decided there wasn’t a rocket ship,” Stick Dog said.
“You decided, Stick Dog. Not me,” Stripes responded. “If it is a rocket ship, don’t go flying off to the moon all by yourself. Make sure we get on board before you blast off.”
“Okay. If it’s a rocket ship, I’ll let you know,” Stick Dog said slowly, and turned away from Stripes and toward that tall object again. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He was going to find out what that thing was.
But he never got the chance.
At that precise moment, Goose spoke into the microphone from the bottom of the hill. His voice boomed out of the speaker on the table, startling the dogs for a second. He announced, “Time for the grand finale!”
“What’s a ‘finale,’ Stick Dog?” asked Mutt.
“I’ve never heard that word before,” Stick Dog said. He thought about it for three seconds, then added, “It sounds a lot like the word ‘final.’”
Stick Dog jerked his head around.
He figured it out.
“I think the fireworks are about to end!” he said urgently. “The humans are all coming back! We have to get out of here!”
This announcement alarmed his friends momentarily.
“What about more food!?” pleaded Karen.
“What about the rocket ship?” asked Stripes. “And the whole trip to the moon and everything?”
“No more food. There’s no more time,” Stick Dog said. “And, umm, no time to see if that tall thing is a rocket ship.”
“I’m pretty stuffed anyway,” Poo-Poo commented, and rubbed his belly. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. “I ate a lot of ribs.”
Mutt, Karen, and Stripes realized they were full of ribs too.
“We can take these though,” Stick Dog said as he looked down at the rib bones scattered all about them. He calculated they had enough time. “They’ll be good to chew on later. Mutt, do you mind?”
“Not at all, Stick Dog,” he said, and spread his legs out slightly. He stood firm, proud, and still. “I’m happy to oblige.”
Poo-Poo, Karen, and Stripes knew exactly what Stick Dog meant. And they knew exactly why Mutt stood like that.
Quickly, they started to shove, push, and poke the ribs into Mutt’s shaggy fur for transport. In just a few seconds, they had twenty-two ribs placed into Mutt’s fur for safekeeping.
Stick Dog said just one thing.
And he said it fast.
“Let’s go!”
And they went.
They jumped down from the buffet table to the bench. They hopped from the bench to the cool concrete floor. Mutt moved a little more carefully and slowly than the others to ensure none of those rib bones shook loose.
As they sprinted across the field toward the forest, a final barrage of fireworks exploded above them, lighting their way. Instead of one colorful burst every thirty seconds, fourteen bright fireworks blasted in quick succession.
“What in the WORLD is that?!” Karen screamed.
&nbs
p; “It’s the fireworks, Karen,” Stick Dog answered as they ran.
“Are you sure it’s not a hot-air balloon exploding, two pterodactyls colliding, or an opera singer who is really, really, really off-key?”
“I’m, umm, pretty sure.”
Karen seemed satisfied. She and the others were now halfway across the field before the sky faded to blackness.
“We can slow down now,” Stick Dog said, and looked back over his shoulder. The humans were returning to the gazebo from the other side of the hill. The fireworks seemed to be over. “We’re far enough away, and it’s dark. Nobody can see us.”
Karen, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Mutt were all too happy to stop running and start walking. Their bellies were full; it had been an exciting, tense, and fulfilling evening.
Poo-Poo spoke for the entire group when he said, “I’m ready to get back to Stick Dog’s pipe.”
“It’s not too far,” assured Stick Dog. “We’ll be there soon.”
But it wouldn’t be as soon as Stick Dog thought.
You see, just as Stick Dog and all his friends reached the edge of the forest, something happened that would make their adventure a little bit longer.
And a lot more rewarding.
After a quiet and dark pause of about thirty seconds, one last firework sizzled and soared through the air, curving to a final apex. Then it exploded in a sudden flurry of twinkling pink lights. A giant, shimmering pink heart took shape in the sky.
All the wedding guests looked skyward and applauded and cheered.
Stick Cat and Edith did not.
Edith groaned and said, “Ugh! Will this lovefest never end? I mean, really, Stick Cat. Are you as tired of this romance-a-thon as I am?”
