by Tom Watson
“Maybe they have some Crunchy Cheetos in there,” Karen said. “All of a sudden, I’m really in the mood for Crunchy Cheetos.”
“Umm, maybe,” Stick Dog said as he looked at the open window. “That’s kind of a tall windowsill. See the one with the flowerpot on it? Stripes, I think you’re the tallest on your hind legs. Can you run over there and prop yourself up on the window to try to see inside? Just be careful not to knock over that flowerpot.”
Stripes nodded and stretched her front and back legs a bit, readying to sprint across the lawn.
“Ahem,” said Karen in a low voice.
Stick Dog turned to her. “What is it, Karen?”
Karen did not answer. She simply looked at the scattered oak leaves on the ground as her tail drooped.
“Come on,” said Stick Dog. “I can tell something is bothering you.”
“It’s just I never get considered for the ‘big dog’ parts of our plans,” she said quietly, tail still drooping. “I’m tired of being disappointed all the time. Maybe you four giants could give me a chance at one of the big dog jobs, that’s all.”
Stick Dog came a step closer.
“We all have a role to play in our quests for delicious treats and scraps, Karen,” Stick Dog said. “No one’s job is more or less important.”
She nodded a little but didn’t seem very convinced.
“Look,” Stick Dog said, “think back to that day when we retrieved all those frankfurters from that cart.”
Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Mutt all nodded and remembered that glorious day fondly. Even Karen seemed to perk up a little.
“That was a great day, wasn’t it?” asked Stick Dog.
“And a great meal,” added Mutt, trying to help.
Karen nodded again.
“Well, you’re the one who got trapped in the laundry basket. Remember?” Stick Dog asked. “None of us are small enough to get inside a basket like that.”
“Maybe so,” said Karen, a little more loudly.
“And none of us could have jumped out of a second-story window after they got trapped inside the house, right?” Stick Dog asked. “We would have all broken our legs. Not you though. You were able to jump right out so we could catch you and everything. If I remember correctly, you were like a beautiful, majestic bird flying out of that window and landing so gracefully right in the middle of that sheet.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Karen said. Stick Dog noticed that her tail had risen a good bit.
“And when we all got stacked up behind that sheet, who was on top?”
Karen smiled. “I don’t remember.”
“Yes, you do,” Stick Dog said. “Who was it? Was it Mutt the giant? Was it Poo-Poo the huge beast? Was it Stripes the enormous? Was it big, old, fatty-fat me?”
Now Karen’s tail was wagging. “No,” she laughed.
“Who was it?” Stick Dog asked a final time.
“It was me,” Karen said. Her tail was wagging like mad now and slapped Poo-Poo in the knee three times every second.
“Now, come on,” Stick Dog said with both joy and a smidgen of authority in his voice. “Let’s do this thing. Stripes, let’s see what we’re up against. Go for it.”
With that, Stripes was off. She dashed from behind the tree, across the lawn, and came skidding up to the window. The grass was a little wet and slick and Stripes slid past the window and smashed into a row of hedges.
She untangled herself quickly, regained her balance, and stretched her forepaws up to the windowsill to look inside. When she did, she bashed her head into the little flowerpot and it came crashing to the ground. She dropped instantly back down and sprinted back. Stripes ran as fast as anyone had ever seen. She had a look of pure terror on her face. Her eyes bulged, her lips were drawn back, and her head seemed to be vibrating—almost shaking—as she ran back toward the oak tree.
You would think, perhaps, that she ran so fast because she had been seen by a human. Or maybe because the flowerpot made such a big noise. Or maybe she ran because a human was coming to investigate the sound.
None of those reasons was true.
CHAPTER 4
WHAT STRIPES SAW
When Stripes neared the oak tree where Stick Dog, Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Karen were still situated, she did not break stride. She did not slow down. She did not stop.
She passed them and screamed, “Run for your lives!”
Now, when someone sprints past you screaming, “Run for your lives!” it is typically not a good time to pour yourself a lemonade and consider what might be pursuing the person who just ran past you.
No.
When someone rockets past you screaming, “Run for your lives!” it is, in fact, time for you to run for your life too.
And that’s just what the other dogs did. They ran as fast as they could after Stripes. They didn’t look for any humans. They didn’t look for any eating opportunities. They even passed a garbage bag that had clearly been ripped open recently by a raccoon. They didn’t even give it a sniff. They simply ran. And ran fast.
Stripes streaked to another house across the street. She ran up the driveway, across the side lawn, and tumbled to a stop behind a short section of white picket fence covered with grapevines in the side yard. She stopped and stooped behind the fence to watch her friends race up the driveway. She heaved and panted to catch her breath as they barreled across the lawn to join her.
While the others tried to catch their breath too, Stripes attempted to explain between gasps. “You . . . won’t believe . . . what was . . . in . . . that . . . house,” she began.
The others, all huffing and panting themselves, stared at Stripes, waiting for more explanation.
Stripes trembled and shook her head quickly. “You just . . . won’t . . . believe it.”
“Humans?” Stick Dog asked. “Did they see you?”
Stripes shook her head.
“A dogcatcher?” asked Mutt.
Stripes shook her head.
“An empty kitchen with no food at all?” Poo-Poo asked desperately.
Again, Stripes shook her head no.
Karen asked the final question.
“Do you guys see any grapes on these vines on this fence?” She panted a little more and then added, “I really like grapes. Not as much as barbecue potato chips or Crunchy Cheetos, mind you. But still quite a bit.”
Stick Dog turned his head to look at Karen. “Umm, no, Karen. I don’t think there are any grapes left on these vines. It’s a little late in the season. And we kind of have an emergency situa—”
Karen interrupted him. “What about raisins?” she asked. “Maybe there are some raisins. I’m not a big fan, but I’m really hungry. And when grapes get old and dried out, they turn into raisins. So, it only makes sense that there might be some raisins in here.”
Karen began poking her dachshund nose through the vines, searching for raisins.
Stick Dog chose to turn back to Stripes. “What was it? What did you see back there?”
Before Stripes could answer, Karen spoke again while she searched through the vines. “Raisins are not as good as grapes and certainly not as good as Crunchy Cheetos. Still, I am pretty darn hungry—and raisins would do in a pinch.”
She then buried her entire head in the grapevine brambles to search.
Everyone else’s attention focused on Stripes, who had now calmed down a little and was ready to describe what she had seen. She trembled a bit and mumbled, “I saw . . . I saw . . .”
She couldn’t get any more words out.
Stick Dog tried to calm her down. He said, “Take a deep breath.”
Stripes inhaled deeply.
Stick Dog and the others waited.
Stripes just stood there. She didn’t say a word.
And she didn’t exhale. Her cheeks were all puffed out.
Stick Dog quickly realized what was happening. “Go ahead and let the air out, Stripes.”
Stripes breathed out a great GUSH of air.
“I don’t know how much longer I could have held that in!” she exclaimed and then panted a few times. “Why did you want me to hold my breath like that, Stick Dog?”
“I just wanted you to breathe deeply and relax,” replied Stick Dog. “You know, to calm down so you could tell us what you saw.”
“What I saw?”
“Through that kitchen window,” Stick Dog reminded.
“Oh, right,” Stripes answered, and began to tremble again.
Stick Dog recognized that the whole breathing thing had not worked at all. He took a different route. He asked quickly and directly, “What did you see?”
To Stick Dog’s satisfaction, Stripes answered quickly and directly.
She said, “I saw two witches!”
Nobody responded for several seconds.
Finally, Stick Dog asked, “Witches?”
“Witches,” Stripes repeated and nodded. “Two of them.”
Stick Dog smiled. And when he did, Mutt and Poo-Poo seemed to relax a little. They were clearly happy to see that Stick Dog was relieved. It made them feel less scared immediately.
Just then Karen called, “Hey, guys!”
“In a minute, Karen,” Stick Dog answered. He was still smiling a little. He knew there were no such things as witches. He didn’t know what Stripes had seen through that window, but Stick Dog guessed that her eyesight was blurry from running so fast and bonking her head into the flowerpot on the windowsill. “I need to talk to Stripes here for a minute.”
“Oh, sorry,” Karen said. She continued to nudge her nose among the grapevines. “It’s probably not important anyway. I’ll tell you later.”
With that, Stick Dog turned to Stripes again. In a calm voice, he said, “I’m not sure what you saw. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a witch.”
“You mean two witches,” said Stripes.
“Right, right. Two witches,” Stick Dog said. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t see two witches.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, first of all, they don’t exist. Nobody has ever seen real witches before.”
“I have,” Stripes corrected. “Just now.”
“Umm, okay,” Stick Dog said slowly. “Nobody has ever seen them before because they don’t exist. Those are just stories to scare little puppies. You know, make-believe things.”
Stripes began to look a little more comfortable. She knew Stick Dog was pretty smart and knew a lot of things. She was beginning to believe—and hope—that he was right. “What do you think I saw then?”
Stick Dog replied, “Well, I think maybe your eyesight was a little fuzzy or something. You hit your head into that flowerpot pretty good. And I think—”
“Hey, guys?” Karen called again. Her voice was still muffled by the grapevines. She was so deep into the foliage now that the other dogs couldn’t even see her head at all.
“Karen, please,” Stick Dog said. “Just a second.”
“Okay,” Karen answered. “Never mind.”
But now curiosity had gotten the best of Mutt and Poo-Poo. They wanted to know what Karen was up to.
Poo-Poo asked, “Did you find any grapes?”
“No,” Karen called back.
“Any raisins?” asked Mutt.
“No,” Karen said again.
“Then what’s so important?” Poo-Poo asked.
Karen rustled her body through the grapevines some more, getting even deeper. Now they couldn’t even see her shoulders. “It’s nothing,” Karen answered. You could tell there were some vines stuck in her mouth as she talked. It was kind of mumbly. “Stick Dog’s right. I shouldn’t interrupt so often. I need to work on that. I’ll wait until he’s done.”
Everybody—well, everybody but Karen—turned their attention back to Stick Dog. “So I don’t know what you saw, Stripes,” he said, picking up the conversation again. But his words came more slowly, as if he was distracted by something. “There’s no such—”
And then he stopped completely.
He turned to the white picket fence and searched for Karen. She was very difficult to spot. Only her left hind leg and thin dachshund tail protruded from the tangle of vines and yellowing leaves.
“Karen, could you come out here, please?” he called.
Karen backed out, shook some twigs and leaves from her coat, and took a single quick step toward them all. “Yes, Stick Dog?” she said. “What can I do for you?”
Stick Dog smiled. “There’s obviously something on your mind and I’d like to know what it is,” he answered. “I’ve gotten so curious about it. I just want to know so I can get back to convincing Stripes that there are no such things as witches. Then we can all calm down and return to that house and see if we can find something to eat.”
“Oh, I see,” Karen said, and nodded.
“So, what is it?” Stick Dog asked. “What is it that you wanted to tell us?”
Karen looked over her shoulder through the fence and then back to Stick Dog. “I just thought you’d like to know there are two witches crossing the street and coming this way. That’s all.”
“That’s all?!?” Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes screamed at the same time.
“Mm-hmm, that’s all,” Karen said casually. Then she added almost as an afterthought, “Well, except for the fact that they’re both carrying round orange human heads with them.”
Stick Dog, Stripes, Mutt, and Poo-Poo stood utterly still and silent.
For three seconds.
Then they all began moving in very different ways.
Stripes stood in place—but shivered all over. Her legs wobbled so severely that it looked as if they might collapse completely. “IknewitIknewitIknewit,” she muttered as she shook.
Mutt began to shake too—but he seemed to have a purpose to his movement. After a few seconds, he looked all around on the ground at the things that fell from his fur. It was as if he was seeking something to use—a weapon of some sort perhaps—to fend off the approaching witches. All that fell out, however, were two sticks, an old pencil, and one-third of a hard rubber Frisbee. After finding nothing to defend himself and his friends, he leaned his head down to the ground, picked up the piece of Frisbee in his mouth, and began chewing on its edges. This seemed to bring him a good deal of comfort.
Poo-Poo began hopping up and down and jerked his head left and right.
He, like Stripes, muttered something over and over again. He said quickly, “StickDogStickDogStickDog.”
Karen ducked her head back into the grapevines and said, “There has to be one grape left in here somewhere.”
Stick Dog moved rapidly too. He leaped and slid to the white picket fence. He brushed aside some of the vines to get a clearer view of the driveway and street through the fence slats.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
CHAPTER 5
STEW INGREDIENTS
“It’s definitely two witches,” Stick Dog said urgently. He watched as they crossed the street and headed in their direction. “Coming this way!”
Stick Dog quickly scanned their surroundings. There wasn’t much there. This particular house had only a lawn and no trees or play equipment to hide behind. Only the single section of picket fence provided any cover. And with its slatted openings and fading grapevines, Stick Dog knew it was a bad hiding place for five dogs—especially with Karen digging through the vines and shaking everything.
There was a car parked in the driveway and Stick Dog made a quick decision. “Everybody on your bellies,” he whispered. “We’re going under that car.”
Poo-Poo snapped his head around quickly. “Under a car?! No way! Too dangerous. You only go under cars for emergency situations.”
Stripes had fallen out of her frozen position and dropped to her belly immediately. “There are two witches coming after us!” she whispered. “This IS an emergency situation!”
“Right, right,” Poo-Poo said as if he just remembered. He quickly dropped to his belly as well.
Stick Dog pulle
d Karen from the grapevines and led the way to the dark blue station wagon parked short of the garage. The car itself blocked the view of the two witches as they came up the long driveway, and the five dogs bunched themselves underneath it.
Now, we need to stop here just for a minute. You know that hiding under cars is dangerous, right? I mean, do I really need to say that? There are way better—and less dangerous—hiding places around the house. Want to know my favorite hiding place—you know, for a game of hide-and-seek or at homework time? Do you?
It’s out in the middle of the yard. I stand really still and put my arms out real crooked-like.
I pretend to be a tree.
For real.
Works almost every time.
For instance, it always works at homework time. I run out to the backyard, pretend to be a tree, and—wah-lah!—homework is delayed. I know it works because I see my parents come to the patio door and stare right at me out in the backyard. They have this weird, puzzled expression on their faces. And I know exactly what they’re thinking. They’re thinking: “Jeez, we don’t remember planting a tree in that spot before.”
Smart, hunh?
Eventually, though, my arms get tired and I have to come inside and do my homework. You should try it though.
So, hiding under cars is a bad idea. Pretending to be a tree is an excellent idea.
Got it?
Okay, back we go.
“It’s not too bad under here,” Karen commented. She was the only one short enough to fit comfortably beneath the car. She even got up on her paws once, did a complete circle, and plopped down again in the exact same position.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Poo-Poo said, and struggled to look back over his shoulder at Karen. “Because in a couple of minutes, we’ll be captured by two witches.”
