by Tom Watson
“And the what, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt. The others were curious too. The stark change in Poo-Poo’s expression and voice had caught their full attention.
“And the SQUIRRELS! That’s what!” Poo-Poo screamed. His eyes were wide and menacing as he remembered. “I can see those nasty tail-shakers up in those cherry trees! They’re up in those trees with their puffy tails and snickering mouths. Chitter-chatter-chitter! Look at us! We can have all the cherries we want! We can bounce from branch to branch. Aren’t we SO special?! YOU have to wait for the cherries to fall! But WE can have cherries whenever we want! We can shove them into our chubby cheeks anytime! Erggh! Those darn squirrels! Oh, I can’t stand those sniveling chatterboxes!!!”
“Poo-Poo?” Stick Dog said calmly.
Poo-Poo didn’t hear him.
“They got all the perfectly ripe cherries! Those rotten, fluffy-tailed varmints!” Poo-Poo snarled. “All I got was the leftovers that fell to the ground. And the pits! They shot cherry pits at me like machine gun fire!”
“Poo-Poo?” Stick Dog said calmly, but louder.
“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! Watch out for cherry pits! Incoming cherry pits!” Poo-Poo was practically screaming. He was dodging his head up and down, left and right to avoid the imaginary cherry pit bombardment. “Rat-a-tat-tat!”
“Poo-Poo!” Stick Dog said—even louder.
This finally got Poo-Poo’s attention. It wasn’t very often, after all, that Stick Dog raised his voice. Poo-Poo turned his head immediately to face him.
“We’re not at the dairy farm,” Stick Dog said. His tone was calm but firm. “You’re with your friends now. Besides you proved your superiority to squirrels on that glorious day when we discovered donuts. Remember? And those squirrels back on the dairy farm?”
“Yes?” Poo-Poo snarled, conjuring the memory again. “What about those cherry-pit-dropping villains?”
“I bet they’ve never tasted candy like you just did,” Stick Dog continued. “If they could see you right now, chewing on sweet, delicious candy—they would be SO jealous. Wouldn’t they?”
This thought turned Poo-Poo’s snarl into a smile instantly.
“I bet they’ve never tasted candy before in their lives!” Poo-Poo exclaimed.
“Or hamburgers,” added Mutt.
“Or frankfurters,” Stripes chimed in.
“Or pizza,” added Karen.
“Or ice cream,” said Stick Dog.
This cooled off Poo-Poo completely. He waved at the air above his head where he had imagined those cherry trees from his puppyhood had been. “Keep your cherries, you furry-faced fuzz-buckets,” he whispered up at the empty space. Now satisfied, Poo-Poo dropped his head and looked toward Stick Dog.
“You okay now?” Stick Dog asked.
“I’m cool as a cucumber,” replied Poo-Poo.
“I lo-o-o-ve cucumbers,” Karen moaned instantly. “Even more than grapes.”
“We’ll look for cucumbers some other time,” said Stick Dog quickly. He didn’t want Karen distracted from their current mission. “But right now, we’re after some more of this candy.”
“How are we going to get some?” Karen asked, having already forgotten about cucumbers entirely.
“We’ll need a plan,” Stick Dog said.
They shared, ate—and LOVED—the rest of the candy. And they contemplated possible ways to snatch some more.
Chapter 8
FLUFFORABLE
“I know how to do it,” Mutt said.
“Me too!” Stripes, Karen, and Poo-Poo all said at exactly the same time.
Stick Dog leaned back against the picket fence to get more comfortable. He had the distinct feeling this might take some time. He said, “Okay, Mutt, you first. Let’s hear your plan for snatching some candy.”
But Mutt didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed his eyes and pulled his mouth to one side. Then he made kind of a deep gurgling sound from the back of his throat.
“Are you okay?” Stick Dog asked.
Mutt nodded and kept contorting his facial features in strange ways.
“You sure you’re not choking?” Stripes asked.
Mutt nodded again. He lifted his shoulders higher, stuck his head forward, and squinted his eyes. Again, he made that odd, deep gurgling sound.
“Are you going to barf or something?” asked Karen.
Mutt shook his head but continued to make the face—and make the sound.
He tilted his head, lifted the left side of his lip to expose some teeth, and leaned down as if he was about to charge the four others.
“Is this a guessing game?” asked Poo-Poo.
Mutt shook his head.
Finally, Stick Dog said, “Stop whatever it is you’re doing, Mutt. Just for a minute. What are you trying to show us?”
Mutt relaxed his face and body. “I’m demonstrating my plan,” he began to explain. “See, I’m going to look real mean and growl and—”
“That was a growl?!” Poo-Poo interrupted and snickered. “Dude. You have got to work on your growl. That’s the funniest growl I’ve ever heard.”
Mutt chose to ignore the comment and continued to explain his plan. “I’m going to look real mean and growl at those little humans or at the people at the door. When they see—”
But Poo-Poo couldn’t help himself and interrupted again. “I mean, that so-called ‘growl’ of yours, Mutt. Jeez. No offense, but not too scary—you know what I mean? I thought you were going to sneeze or something. Or maybe you ate a bad bug or something. But growling? I wouldn’t have guessed that was growling in a million years.”
Mutt closed his eyes and said, “That’s the way I growl, okay?”
Poo-Poo nodded. “Sure, it’s okay. To each his own. No problem. I’m just saying if that’s the growl you’re going to use, you might want to come up with a different plan.”
Mutt opened his eyes and turned to Stick Dog—and Stick Dog only. “I look real mean and growl, see? Then the little humans in the costumes drop their candy and run away. When they do, we grab it and go back to your pipe for a sweet and tasty feast.”
Stick Dog nodded his head in understanding. “I see. Yes, yes. There’s quite a lot of merit in your strategy.”
Mutt glanced over at Poo-Poo, who shook his head, giggled, and whispered to himself. “I mean, it was more like a kitten purring or something.”
Stick Dog said, “I like it. I really do. It’s just hard for me to picture you looking mean, Mutt. And, if you think about it, that’s really a good thing. Someone like you just can’t fake being mean. You’re just too handsome. You’re too fluffy. You’re too adorable.”
“You’re fluffy and adorable,” repeated Karen, in an attempt to help. “You’re flufforable.”
“Karen’s right,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. “You’re flufforable.”
Mutt considered this for a moment. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m too good-looking to be able to pull off this plan?”
Stick Dog nodded.
“Hmm,” Mutt said, and then thought about it for just a second or two more. “I can live with that.”
Stick Dog turned to Poo-Poo then. “What do you have for us?”
“We’re going to need a bag,” Poo-Poo began. “It needs to be big enough for all of us to fit into.”
“A garbage bag might work,” said Karen. “Those are pretty big.”
Poo-Poo nodded. “Good suggestion.”
“I don’t know,” said Stick Dog. “I don’t think a garbage bag is strong enough to hold all five of us. Those things tear pretty easily. Heck, we tear into them all the time looking for food. They’re just not that strong.”
“Don’t worry about it. In my plan, the bag only needs to hold four of us anyway,” Poo-Poo said, dismissing this potential obstacle. He inhaled and began pacing. Then he stopped suddenly as if the rest of his plan had instantly crystallized in his mind. “We’re all going to climb into the bag—except for you, Stick Dog. So Stripes, Mutt, Karen, and I all climb into the bag. The
n you carry us all around the neighborhood.”
Stick Dog didn’t mention he thought it would be impossible to carry them all by himself in a bag that they would probably never be able to find. Instead, he asked, “What then?”
In rapid succession, Poo-Poo provided the other steps of his plan. “We stop at each house just like the little humans are doing. You ring the bell. The large humans open the door and see you there with a big bag like everybody else. Now, they’re going to be waiting for you to say ‘trick or treat,’ right?”
“Right,” Stick Dog answered slowly.
“But you don’t speak human language, right?”
“Right,” Stick Dog answered even more slowly.
“So that’s when you start coughing a lot,” Poo-Poo explained. “That way they won’t notice that you can’t speak human language. You’ll also want to shake your head violently while you’re coughing. That way they won’t see your face very well. While you’re having a coughing attack, they’ll see your bag and start dropping candy into it.”
“Hey, Poo-Poo,” Karen interrupted.
“Yes?”
“I just wanted to say that I love your plan so far.”
“Thanks. I assumed you would love it because great plans like this are always accepted and adored by those who hear them,” Poo-Poo said, and returned to the task at hand. “The real genius part of the plan occurs while Stick Dog is coughing up a storm and the big humans are dropping candy into the bag.”
Stick Dog tilted his head and asked, “You mean there’s even more to the plan than me carrying the four of you around the neighborhood in a garbage bag, ringing all the doorbells, the big humans not recognizing that I’m a dog, coughing my head off, and the candy being dropped into the bag?”
“The best is yet to come,” Poo-Poo said.
“I can believe that,” Stick Dog whispered so quietly that nobody else could hear him.
“The four of us are in the bag when they drop the candy in,” Poo-Poo continued with the final details of his strategy. “When they drop it in, we have our mouths open. So they will—Ta-da!—just drop food directly into our mouths. And the food will disappear as we eat it and eat it. They’ll glance down in the bag, see that the food is disappearing, and then just pour more and more in. I’d say in a few houses, our stomachs will be bursting!”
Mutt, Karen, and Stripes all nodded enthusiastically as Poo-Poo wrapped up his explanation.
“What about Stick Dog?” Mutt asked.
“Oh, we’ll save some stuff in the bottom of the bag for him,” Poo-Poo added.
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Stick Dog said. He paused briefly and tried to think of something to say. He knew the plan would never work for a wide variety of reasons. But he didn’t want to say that. Instead, he said, “I’m a bit concerned about how your plan will affect the little humans.”
“How so?” asked Poo-Poo.
“Well, they seem really happy and excited to be out here tonight in their costumes and everything,” explained Stick Dog. “But if the big humans keep dumping more and more candy into our bag, there won’t be any left for the little humans. It doesn’t seem right is all.”
“You don’t think we should get as much food as we can, Stick Dog?” Stripes asked, confused. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“No, I would never say that,” Stick Dog answered. “But Poo-Poo’s excellent plan would empty several houses of all the food they’re passing out. What with you guys constantly eating and the big humans dropping more and more into the bag. And it just seems like it’s not very nice considering these little humans are out here having such a good time.”
Stick Dog turned to Poo-Poo to see if this was working.
“I think I hear what you’re saying,” Poo-Poo finally said after a moment of thoughtful consideration. “You’re saying that my plan is SO perfect that it won’t leave anything left for these little humans at all.”
“Exactly,” Stick Dog encouraged quickly.
“I’m sorry about that, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said. “But I’m unable to come up with a bad plan, or an average plan, or even a really good plan. My plans are either excellent or nothing.”
Stick Dog squeezed his lips together. “I know, Poo-Poo. I know. I’m sorry we can’t use it.”
“I have a strategy,” Karen interrupted. “And I promise it’s not too excellent.”
CHAPTER 9
Poodlesaurus Rex
“That’s terrific,” said Stick Dog, happy to leave Poo-Poo’s strategy behind. “What is your plan all about?”
“I think we should build a house,” Karen said simply.
Even though Stick Dog didn’t look forward to an explanation, which was bound to be both complicated and lengthy, he asked politely, “Why?”
“Because houses must come with candy,” Karen said. “Just look around—everyone who comes out of a house has a bunch of candy. They’re bringing it from inside! So, if we build a house, then we’ll have access to lots of candy!”
“Makes sense,” Stripes said.
Poo-Poo said, “I’m in.”
“I’m ready,” Mutt agreed. He then began shaking a little bit. He aimed, obviously, to dislodge something they could use from his fur. “I think I have a screwdriver in here somewhere.”
“Great! That would be useful,” Karen said.
Mutt’s suggestion seemed to prompt Karen to think of other things she might need. She began looking around. This concerned Stick Dog a great deal. The litany of things necessary to build a house would take a long time to think of and name. He tried to find a way out of this.
Thankfully, Karen herself provided it.
“We’re definitely going to need some wooden boards. Maybe we can tear apart this fence with the grapevines all over it,” Karen suggested and glanced over at it. When she did, her eyes focused more on the grapevine than the wooden slats. She tilted her head a little sideways. Without turning to him, Karen asked, “Stick Dog, when was the last time I looked in there for grapes?”
“Oh, it’s been a while.”
“I LOVE grapes!” exclaimed Karen. “I bet some new ones have grown since then!”
And with that, Karen stopped thinking about building a house that came with its own supply of candy and, instead, began pawing through the grapevines again.
Mutt stopped shaking in an attempt to find a screwdriver. He did pick up a short piece of yellow rope that had sprung out from his fur. He plopped down on his belly and began to chew on it with tremendous satisfaction.
It was now Stripes’s turn. Stick Dog didn’t even need to ask if she had a plan. She just started speaking.
“We’re going to go back to one of those glorious food-finding days in our past,” Stripes began. “Remember when we got those frankfurters?”
Stripes had to stop then. Poo-Poo was suddenly super-excited.
“Back in time!? Time travel?!” he asked enthusiastically. “Is that what you’re talking about?! I’m all for it. Let’s do it!”
“No, not time travel,” Stripes said. You could tell she didn’t like having her food-finding plan interrupted.
“No time travel? That’s a bummer,” Poo-Poo sighed. But then he got all excited again. “I’ve always wanted to go back in time! That would be awesome!”
“Where would you travel back to, Poo-Poo?” Karen called as she continued to search for grapes. She was close enough to hear them all.
“Way back to the days when the Earth was ruled by the great Poodlesaurus Rexes,” Poo-Poo answered without pausing for a single second. He had obviously thought about this before.
Mutt allowed the ragged piece of yellow rope to drop from his mouth momentarily. He was curious. “What’s a Poodlesaurus Rex?”
“Well, there were dinosaurs all over the place fifty or sixty years ago,” Poo-Poo began to explain. “And the dinosaurs were all destroyed by the powerful and mighty Poodlesaurus Rexes. We ruled the Earth for months and months after that.”
“Wha
t do you mean ‘we’?” asked Stripes.
“Well, you know, my ancestors if you want to get technical about it,” Poo-Poo answered.
“What did they look like?” asked Mutt.
Poo-Poo sat back and stretched his front paws in a giant arc above his head. “Just imagine me twenty times bigger with claws instead of paws.”
Nobody said anything. It was difficult to tell if they were believing Poo-Poo’s version of natural history—or considering what a Poodlesaurus Rex might actually look like.
“Anyway, that’s why I wanted to time travel in Stripes’s plan,” Poo-Poo concluded. “I wanted to go back and join the ruling class of my Poodlesaurus Rex ancestors.”
There was an extended, almost awkward, pause then. Poo-Poo’s eyes were blank and distant. It was as if he could see himself twenty times bigger marauding across the great suburban landscape.
Karen poked her head out of the vines and asked, “Do you think there were ever any dachshund-a-saurs?”
Poo-Poo shook his head and grinned. “I don’t think so,” he said. “That would be pretty silly-looking, let’s be honest.”
Karen seemed disappointed, but then she saw a ladybug on one of the grapevine leaves and immediately focused on that instead.
And Stick Dog? Well, Stick Dog didn’t know what to say at all. He didn’t want to ask Poo-Poo any more questions. He didn’t want to squash his ideas about time travel and Poodlesaurus Rexes either. But he did want to get some more of that candy.
Thankfully, Stripes knew just what to say.
“Yeah. Well, anyway,” she said. “Since my plan doesn’t involve time travel, maybe I should just tell you what it does involve.”
“Great idea!” Stick Dog said immediately and with a good bit of enthusiasm.
“Like I said,” Stripes continued. “We’re going back to one of those great food-finding days of our past. Remember the frankfurter man with the cart? What was his name? Was it Patsy Puffenstuff?”
