by Tom Watson
Stick Dog turned to look toward Karen’s favourite garbage can.
“She loved potato chips,” Mutt added.
“I know she did,” continued Poo-Poo, nodding his head at the memory. “I was right next to her when she found that chip. Her favourite chip-finding place had paid off again. Remember how she always went there first whenever we went to the park? That garbage can next to the basketball court? Well, she found a chip that time, and her tail started swishing like crazy and whacked me three times right across the face. Smack! Smack! Smack! Good old Karen. I’ll really miss her dangerous tail-wagging ways.”
Mutt nodded his head.
“It’s a terrible tragedy, all right,” sighed Mutt. He stared up at a lone grey cloud in the sky as it drifted in front of the sun. “I think maybe when we get those juicy, warm hamburgers from the humans, we should leave one in her memory at Karen’s favourite location.”
“Where’s that?” asked Stick Dog.
“It’s where Poo-Poo said: Karen’s favourite garbage can,” said Mutt. “She went there every time we went to the park. Don’t you remember? It was always the first place she sprinted off to whenever we got near the place. Jeez, Stick Dog, I can’t believe you don’t remember. It’s as if the memory of Karen is already slipping away from you.”
Stick Dog looked across the park again. “Right, I remember now,” he said, smiling to himself.
Mutt blinked quickly a couple of times. “I just think a hamburger would be a good memorial to her.”
There was complete silence for several moments. It was difficult to tell what Stripes and Poo-Poo were thinking about Mutt’s idea.
“Let me get this straight,” Poo-Poo finally said in a low, shaky voice. “You think we should go to all this trouble – even risk getting caught – to get those hamburgers . . .and then leave one for Karen as a memorial?”
“That’s right,” said Mutt. The sun had begun to emerge from the other side of that single dark cloud in the sky. “As a way to honour and remember her.”
“Umm,” said Poo-Poo. He stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s a nice idea and all. But I’m not risking my life and four limbs to get a hamburger that we’re not even going to eat. Forget it. With my luck, some tail-shaking, chattering squirrel would find it and eat it. I miss Karen and all, but let’s try to stay serious here.”
“You don’t think we should do something to honour Karen?” Mutt asked, beginning to sound offended.
“Not with hamburgers,” Poo-Poo answered. “They’re too precious. Can’t we all come here and howl on her birthday or something?”
Stick Dog was willing to let this conversation go on – but his stomach was not. It was growling even louder than before. And as you can probably guess, Stick Dog had found Karen by this time. She was, in fact, right in the spot they were describing: at the garbage can next to the basketball court.
“Where is her favourite garbage can again, Mutt?” Stick Dog asked.
“It’s right over there,” he began, finally looking away from the sky. The dark grey cloud had moved on, bringing a renewed brightness and warmth to the day. Mutt turned to point with his muzzle, saying, “The garbage can next to the bask— ”
Mutt stopped talking suddenly, and his tail started swishing faster and faster. His eyes opened wide. “I found her!”
“Where?!?” Poo-Poo and Stripes yelled simultaneously.
“There!” Mutt screamed. It was difficult to tell where he was pointing though. He was leaping up and down and shaking with excitement. “Right where we were going to make the memorial to her!”
Stripes and Poo-Poo jerked their heads around to look. Sure enough, there was Karen. They all began hopping up and down in place with their tails wagging like mad and whipping into one another.
Stick Dog was, of course, happy to find Karen too. But he had known for a little while where she was and that she was safe.
Karen was digging around in some loose rubbish that had blown out of the garbage can. That’s why she loved this particular one. It filled up quickly because a lot of small humans played on the basketball court and a lot of older, larger humans watched them, eating snacks as they did.
This rubbish can, Karen knew, was also far away from the Dumpster.
And that meant that the big humans who rode the giant blue truck and collected rubbish on Thursday mornings often didn’t fetch this can – especially if it was raining.
And Karen knew that this very full garbage can often overflowed. She knew a brisk wind could pick up a loose potato chip bag and blow it off the top – leaving tasty, salty morsels inside for her to find with her skinny, perfectly proportioned dachshund muzzle.
And that’s just what had happened – and just what she had found. Karen had a small, bright orange bag covering her nose. And she was trying to return to her four friends behind the honeysuckle bush.
“Here she comes!” yelled Poo-Poo.
“That’s her all right!” screamed Stripes.
Mutt laughed and shook his head. “Good old Karen.”
Now, a dachshund running across a field with a bag on its head is quite a sight to see. It also takes a long time to see it. Dachshunds are not really that fast. Sure, they can move along pretty well, but three-inch legs can only cover so much ground no matter how fast they’re churning. And when a dachshund has her head in a potato chip bag, that tends to slow things down considerably.
Another problem? The bag was large enough to ride up over Karen’s eyes as well. So the combination of short legs, a bag on her head, and a lack of vision made for a lengthy zigzaggy trip to the other four dogs behind the honeysuckle bush.
But at last she reached them, dropped the bag, picked it up by the bottom, and poured out the contents. “I love that garbage can! Look at all these!” she exclaimed. “I brought them back to share. You know, as an appetizer before our hamburgers. Appetizers are really important. I learned that when I lived in the back of that restaurant for a while. The chef was always saying, ‘A fine appetizer is the only way to start a fine meal.’”
“You lived in the back of a restaurant?” asked Stripes. “What kind of restaurant was it?”
“It was French-Asian fusion. Very trendy.”
“You must have gotten great scraps.”
Karen nodded her head. “Boy, did I. The French really know their sauces.”
“Why in the world did you leave?”
“Well, they found out I was there after a couple of weeks.” Karen smiled. “It was good eating for a while though. Anyway, that’s where I learned about appetizers. I think potato chips make a great prequel to a big meal like hamburgers. That’s why I went to my garbage can. There’s almost always something to eat there.”
The dogs all turned their attention back to the appetizer Karen had provided. There was a small mound of potato chips, perhaps ten in all, and plenty of crumbs.
“We’re really glad you’re back,” said Stripes.
“Yeah,” Poo-Poo added, leaning down to sniff the small pile of potato chips. “We thought we’d lost you.”
Mutt came closer to the chips too. “And Poo-Poo wanted to eat your memorial hamburger.”
Karen tilted her head and turned to Stick Dog for an explanation. This is what usually happened whenever it was hard for one of them to figure something out.
“Never mind,” he said. “Tell us about these potato chips. They look different than usual.”
Karen wagged her tail. “That’s because these are not your usual, run-of-the-mill potato chips.”
“They have red-and-gold powdery stuff on them,” Stripes said. She had dropped down to eye the small pile of potato chips closely. “I don’t know about these. They don’t smell like regular potato chips to me.”
Poo-Poo was braver. He picked up one of the small stray crumbs. He nibbled it at the very front of his mouth, rolled it a little bit back and forth on his tongue, and then swallowed very slowly and deliberately, closing his eyes as the tiny morsel went down
his throat.
Stick Dog and the others watched this with great interest. They wanted to know if this new kind of potato chip was any good. They also found this slow, deliberate eating style very strange.
At last, Poo-Poo opened his eyes. With great sophistication and authority, he declared, “I must say, this powdery combination of spice and flavour is both enchanting and invigorating.”
He closed his eyes and licked his lips. Then he nodded his head, opened his eyes, looked slightly above the other dogs, and stated, “It achieves a delicate balance of taste and texture. I get hints of salt and pepper, yes. But also brown sugar, garlic, and tomato. These flavours work in perfect conjunction with the crunchy satisfaction of a good, crisp bite.”
Karen, Mutt, Stripes, and Stick Dog stared at Poo-Poo. After a moment, he dropped his gaze to look at them.
“What?” he asked. “I happen to have very refined taste.”
“I have to admit, Poo-Poo,” said Stick Dog. “That’s a very detailed description of those flavours. I can almost taste them myself. You really do have a talent for this kind of thing.”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” said Poo-Poo with a magnificent air of authority. “Once, a very long time ago, I was able to discern the difference between kibble and bits.”
They ate two potato chips and several crumbs each, relishing this newfangled flavour for as long as they could.
“That was fantasti-melicious,” Stripes said to Karen. “Thanks for providing that appetizer.”
The other dogs expressed their gratitude to Karen as well. They licked their lips and the fur around their mouths, attempting to get every tiny morsel of flavour.
“Stick Dog?” asked Mutt. “How come I’m even hungrier than before? It doesn’t make sense. After eating those chips, shouldn’t I be more full? But my stomach feels more empty. That seems unfair.”
This is a completely real feeling, by the way. You can test it at home. Wait for some time when you’re super-hungry. Then take one or two bites of something. Then wait a minute and don’t eat anything else. You’ll often find that you’ve become super-duper extra hungry. I don’t know why that is. I’m not a stomach doctor or anything. Kind of weird.
“I don’t know why that happens,” answered Stick Dog. He was even hungrier than before too. “And I agree: it is completely unfair. It makes it even more vital for us to formulate a strategy and get those hamburgers.”
All the dogs nodded in agreement.
“Mutt, you were about to tell us your plan,” Stick Dog said, turning to him with a renewed sense of urgency in his voice. “What is it?”
“Well, I was thinking that there are four human creatures and five of us. So, the numbers work to our advantage,” began Mutt. “Stripes, Poo-Poo, Karen, and I each choose a human. Then, on the count of three, we run across the field and bite the ankles of each human. While they’re screaming in pain, Stick Dog grabs all the hamburgers off the barbecue and brings them back to his pipe for us to eat.”
“Umm, okay,” said Stick Dog. “That’s one plan. Does anybody have a plan that doesn’t involve biting people and me burning my paws off on a flaming barbecue?”
“You don’t like my plan?” Mutt asked, a little depressed.
“Oh, that’s not it at all,” said Stick Dog. “It’s a great plan. Let’s just see if we can come up with an even greater plan.”
This made Mutt feel better.
“I think I have an idea,” Poo-Poo volunteered. “See that car over there? It must be theirs. It’s the only one in the parking lot. What if I snatch the keys from the mum’s bag? It’s right there on the bench by the picnic table. Then I hop into the car and drive away. I won’t steal it or anything. You know, just drive it a few blocks. The whole family of humans will chase me. While they’re chasing me, you guys get the hamburgers and take them back to Stick Dog’s pipe. Just save some for me, okay?”
Suddenly Mutt interrupted with a great deal of excitement.
“Poo-Poo,” he said, hopping up and down. “Can I ride in the passenger seat? And maybe roll down the window? I could stick my head out while you’re driving. Is that okay? There’s nothing like sticking your head out a window, man! All the different smells and sometimes you see other dogs on the sidewalk and you can bark your head off and there’s wind in your ears and your fur. It’s a blast. I mean, an absolute blast. Please let me! Please, please, PLEASE!”
“How do you know so much about riding in a car, Mutt?” asked Stripes.
“I used to go on my human’s mail route with him every Saturday. His name was Gary. He let me hang my head out the window.”
“You lived with a mailman!?” asked Karen, shocked. “I bark at mailmen all the time. Maybe I barked at this Gary human.”
“I doubt it,” said Mutt, lowering his voice. “That was a long, long way from here.”
“Will it bother you if we bark at mailmen? I mean, seeing as you used to have a human mailman of your own?”
Mutt shook his head and smiled. “Heck, no. In fact, I used to bark at Gary all the time.”
“You did?” Poo-Poo asked. “You barked at your own human?”
“Umm, yeah. I’m a dog – and he was a mailman. What choice did I have?” Mutt said, clearly regarding this question as ridiculous. All of the other dogs agreed that this made perfectly good sense. Mutt returned to his original thought. “So, Poo-Poo, can I ride in the car during your most excellent plan?”
“Well,” said Poo-Poo, “I was really planning on you helping with the hamburgers while I drive the car by myself.”
“Come on, man,” Mutt begged. It was obvious that he would do just about anything to ride in the car and hang his head out the window. His eyes popped open really wide.
“I’ve got it! What if while I’m hanging out the window, I act as a lookout? I can tell you when the family is chasing us down, how close they’re getting, if the police are after us, if you’re about to run the car into a telephone pole – that kind of thing! That would be helpful, right? Wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?!”
“Well, let me think about it.”
“I love riding in a car. It’s the thing I miss the most. You have to take me,” pleaded Mutt. “Sometimes you even get bugs in your teeth. And sometimes some of those bugs are delicious. I don’t know which ones because they fly into me at, like, thirty miles per hour and I can’t see them. And because, you know, I swallow them. You just gotta let me come with you, Poo-Poo!”
“Well, okay,” Poo-Poo finally responded.
“Yes!”
That’s when Stick Dog spoke up. “One question, Poo-Poo,” he said. “Do you know how to drive?”
Poo-Poo lowered his head. “No,” he whispered. “Does that mess things up? Do you think it’s a bad plan?”
“Not at all,” said Stick Dog. “It’s just such a good plan that I think we should save it for a very desperate time. Like when we’re starving even more than today and must have some hamburgers. When that happens, we’ll all say, ‘Remember Poo-Poo’s great plan from a couple of years ago? Let’s use that.’”
“Oh, I see,” said Poo-Poo. “Yes, that makes perfectly good sense.”
“Good, I’m glad,” said Stick Dog. “Anybody else?”
Mutt sat down and moaned to himself. “I really, really wanted to hang my head out of that car window,” he mumbled. The other dogs felt sorry for him.
“If we get those hamburgers, Mutt,” Stick Dog said, “I guarantee they’ll taste better than the bugs that smash into your mouth when you ride in a car.”
This thought lifted Mutt’s mood immediately.
That’s when Karen spoke up. She said, “I have a plan.”
“Let’s hear it,” Stick Dog said.
Karen took a deep breath, her long dachshund abdomen inflating from front to back, and began. “It may hurt a little bit, but I think it’s worth it,” she said. “Let’s go over to the creek and climb up that tall cliff right above that really shallow part. Then we jump off.”
; Karen stopped. Poo-Poo, Mutt, Stripes, and Stick Dog couldn’t tell if that was the end of the plan or whether Karen was just taking another deep breath. Or perhaps whether she was contemplating how much it would hurt to fall off a cliff through about three inches of water – and land on a bunch of jagged rocks.
“Umm,” said Stick Dog. “How does that get us any hamburgers?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Karen said, slightly put off.
“Well, yeah,” answered Stick Dog. “But in a sort of non-obvious way. Maybe you could fill in some of the details for us.”
“Oh, very well,” said Karen. “After we jump off the cliff on to the rocks, we’ll have lots of cuts and bruises, you see. Maybe even some broken bones! Won’t that be wonderful?!”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Stick Dog said slowly. “But, again, can we get to the getting-the-hamburgers part of the plan?”
Karen sighed the biggest, longest sigh a dachshund could sigh. Now, between you and me, that’s not very big. Because, you know, dachshunds are not very big. But for Karen, it was as if she had sucked in enough air to fill up a blimp and then let it out again.
“We go up to the family,” Karen explained. She spoke very slowly and seemed sort of embarrassed for her friends’ lack of smarts. “And they give us the hamburgers because they feel sorry for us.”
At this, the conclusion of Karen’s plan, Mutt, Stick Dog, Poo-Poo, and Stripes all nodded their heads as if they understood all along that throwing themselves violently and tragically off a cliff was a grand and marvellous way to get a few hamburgers.
