by Tom Watson
“No, it was Prickle Pop,” Karen called without ever taking her eyes off the ladybug.
Poo-Poo joined the conversation. “I think it was Piddly-Pants.”
“Nope,” Mutt chimed in. He coughed a little as he spit the rope from his mouth to speak. Some of the loose threads were stuck in his teeth. “It was Pumpkin-Head.”
Stick Dog lowered his head. He stared at the grass between his front paws. He inhaled and exhaled slowly and evenly three times. Upon raising his head after this breathing exercise, he calmly said, “Peter. His name was Peter.”
“That’s what I meant,” said Stripes. “Well, we scared Peter away because he thought he saw a ghost. I think we should do the same kind of thing again—only this time on purpose. We find some sheets, act like ghosts, and everybody out here tonight will run away screaming. They’ll drop their bags and buckets! Candy will be scattered everywhere! We’ll be eating all night!”
Stick Dog looked over his shoulder toward the street. He considered it very good fortune when he saw three ghosts—three small humans dressed in ghost costumes, that is—several houses away. Stick Dog motioned Stripes to come stand next to him.
“What is it?” Stripes asked as she approached. “Don’t you like my plan, Stick Dog?”
“I absolutely love your plan,” Stick Dog answered emphatically. He then pointed at the three ghosts. “It’s just that I don’t like when your plan happens.”
Stripes eyed the ghosts. “Why?”
“Because this is the one night out of the whole year when humans won’t be afraid of ghosts.” Stick Dog sighed and shook his head. “There are ghosts and witches and other scary things all over the place.”
Stripes asked, “So my plan is excellent every night of the year except for this one?”
Stick Dog nodded his head.
“So it’s not a bad plan? Just bad timing?”
Stick Dog nodded again.
Stripes shrugged her shoulders and sat down. “What can I do?”
Stick Dog was disappointed but not altogether surprised that his friends’ plans hadn’t worked out. But now that he knew what candy tasted like, he was determined to figure out a way to get some more.
“Let’s track the witches,” he suggested, and stepped over to the fence. The ladybug had flown away and Karen was deep in the vines again looking for grapes. Stick Dog pulled gently on her left hind leg as he continued. “We know the witches aren’t dangerous now. Maybe if we observe their behavior, we’ll think of something.”
Karen looked up at Stick Dog after she was completely untangled from the vines and back with her friends.
“No grapes,” she sighed.
“Maybe next time,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. “Come on.”
Chapter 10
STUCK
They all lined up single file behind Stick Dog. There was a large gap in the costumed humans going door-to-door, and the dogs were able to catch up with the witches quickly.
Under the deepening darkness of the night, they ducked behind some bushes to watch the witches at their next stop. It was an older house, with a large metal gate that allowed entrance onto the small front porch. The witches pushed the gate open, took a few steps, and then climbed three stairs to stand before the door.
Stick Dog watched every move the witches made and listened to each word spoken. He noted every detail in the candy-fetching process.
After the witches got their candy and the door closed, Stick Dog ducked back into the bushes as far as he could. He didn’t want them to see him, but he did listen closely for more clues as they descended the steps and made their way to the next house.
“I love going to Grandma Smith’s house every year,” one witch said to the other as they passed. They were completely unaware of the dogs hiding in the bushes. “She makes the best caramel apples in the world!”
“I know,” said the other witch. “And she’s so nice—even though she can’t see or hear so well anymore. She thought I was my older sister.”
The other witch laughed. “She thought I was my younger brother!”
After the witches had gone a safe distance away, Stick Dog pushed his head out into the open air and looked left and right to ensure no other humans were approaching.
When he was certain it was safe, he came out of the bushes and motioned for Mutt, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Karen to follow him. He nudged the gate forward a bit so they could all fit through. He moved slowly, reenacting what the witches had done a minute earlier in an attempt to learn something that might help them retrieve the delicious treats. As he did this, Stick Dog whispered the whole process to himself and the others.
Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Mutt all watched this closely. Karen took a few seconds to chase her tail. She didn’t catch it and quickly turned her attention to what Stick Dog was doing as well.
“Let’s see,” Stick Dog said as he took a few deliberate steps past four flowerpots and up the three front stairs to the porch. “They come up here. Then they press that button by the door.”
He lifted his head and looked off into the distance to refresh his memory. The sky had grown darker and the first blinking stars had emerged. He lowered his head and continued. “After a few seconds, the door opens and—”
But Stick Dog didn’t get a chance to say anything else.
Do you know why?
I’ll tell you.
It’s because Stripes had reached up with her front left paw and pressed the button by the door.
The doorbell button.
Stick Dog, who had his back to Stripes when she pressed the button, spun around when he heard the loud chime inside. To Stick Dog, it was a dangerous sound, like an alarm or a siren. He looked at Stripes, who had dropped down and now had all four paws on the cold, concrete front porch.
“What did you just do?!” asked Stick Dog urgently.
“I pressed the button,” said Stripes. She seemed a little surprised that he had asked her.
“Why’d you do that?!” Stick Dog asked. He snapped his head left and right. He didn’t know what the chime signaled. But he had an uneasy feeling about it. He and his friends stood exposed out there on that front porch.
“You told me to do it,” Stripes answered with a slight quiver in her speech. Her attitude wasn’t so casual as before. She sensed the concern coursing through Stick Dog’s motions and voice. She saw it on his face. And the others did too. They began to fidget nervously. Poo-Poo backed slowly away from that front door and down the steps.
“No, I didn’t,” Stick Dog said quickly. He was still snapping his head in all directions to look for oncoming trouble.
“Did too,” said Stripes in an attempt to defend herself. “I distinctly heard you say, and I quote, ‘Press that button by the door.’ Unquote.”
Stick Dog shook his head. “I wasn’t giving directions. I was just repeating what the small humans did when they—”
But Stick Dog didn’t get a chance to finish explaining. That’s because two things happened at exactly that moment.
Poo-Poo, still scared and backing down the steps and away from the porch, bumped into the metal gate. It swung effortlessly shut and latched loudly behind them.
It was immediately apparent to all five dogs that they were trapped on the porch now.
“We’re stuck!” Karen whispered.
“Uh-oh,” said Poo-Poo.
But the gate closing behind them was only the first thing that happened at that precise second.
Do you know what else happened?
The door to the house opened.
Chapter 11
BART, RUTH, RALPH, AND ADAM (AND KAREN)
A large human stood in the doorway of that home and stared at the five dogs in front of her. Her hair was white and wrapped in a circle on top of her head. Stuck sideways into that white ball of hair was a pair of thick eyeglasses.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” the woman said as she squinted down at the dogs. “More trick-or-treaters, I see.”
> Mutt, Karen, Stripes, and Poo-Poo yanked their heads toward Stick Dog. They stood rock-solid still. They were shocked frozen by the gate clanging shut behind them and the large wooden door opening in front of them.
“What do we do, Stick Dog?” whispered Karen. “We’re trapped.”
Stick Dog did not have an answer.
This combination of things represented the one great fear in Stick Dog’s life. He had always worried they would be discovered—and captured—as a group. He had always known that one or more of his friends might get caught or trapped by a human someday. But Stick Dog also knew he would do everything in his power to rescue any one of them. Now, all five of them were caught in this tight, confined space. He knew their lives as a collective bunch of stray friends was probably over.
“Stick Dog?” Karen whispered quickly again.
But before he could answer, the human in the doorway spoke.
“What are those?” the woman asked.
She squinted her eyes nearly shut and sort of pivoted her head to stare at each dog individually. It was only a few seconds, but it seemed like forever to Stick Dog. What was the woman thinking? Was she going to call a dogcatcher? Or the police? Or try to catch each of them by herself? Maybe there were other large humans in the house who would come after the dogs too.
She looked at each of them again. She squinted her eyes even more. “Animal costumes? Dogs? Is that what you’re supposed to be?”
Because he could think of nothing else to do, Stick Dog coughed.
“HMM? What’s that?” she said loudly. “I don’t have my hearing aids in. WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
Stick Dog coughed again.
“LOUDER, PLEASE!” she said, and leaned closer. “Can’t see you either, dang it! Lost my darn glasses again.”
“Move out of the light a bit,” Stick Dog whispered to the others. His confidence grew a little. Maybe they could get out of this somehow. “And stay calm.”
The large, old woman turned around in the doorway.
“She’s leaving!” Mutt whispered.
“We’re safe!” exclaimed Karen in a quiet voice.
“We’re still trapped though. Because Poo-Poo hit the gate with his big butt,” Stripes whispered.
“My butt’s not big!”
“Is too!”
“Is not!”
This might have gone back and forth for a while, but they discovered instantly that the large woman had not left at all. She had simply reached back inside the door to get something. Upon retrieving a tray of caramel-covered apples, she turned back around to face them all. She leaned forward slightly and pushed the tray toward the dogs.
“Well, I can’t hear or see very well anymore,” the woman said, and smiled genuinely. She had a lovely, friendly face when she smiled. “But I still make the best caramel apples in the neighborhood! Come on and take one! And tell me your names. Nice and loud now.”
Stick Dog knew he had to go first. The others were counting on him.
“Bark!” he said.
“Well, hello, Bart! It’s nice to meet you,” the woman said, and pushed the tray in Stick Dog’s direction. She turned her head to pick out her next customer. When she did, Stick Dog took one of the sticks in his mouth and lifted an apple from the tray.
Seeing this successful retrieval boosted the others’ courage.
“Woof!” Stripes said.
“Ruth! That’s my sister’s name,” the woman said. She grinned widely and lowered the tray down toward Stripes while simultaneously turning to Mutt. “Take a nice big caramel apple, Ruth, dear.”
Stripes reached her head above the tray and gripped one of the sticks in her mouth and pulled an apple off.
Mutt barked, “R-Rawf!”
“Ralph! That’s a name you don’t hear very often anymore. Happy Halloween, Ralph!”
Mutt took an apple.
Poo-Poo stepped forward. He wanted to bark nice and strong like the others. He cleared his throat loudly, “A-hem!”
“Hello, Adam!” the woman said before Poo-Poo could even bark.
Poo-Poo looked a little disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to bark. As soon as he got that caramel apple, however, everything was better.
Only Karen remained.
“I guess you’re big enough for a caramel apple,” the old woman said, and leaned down to lower the tray to Karen. “What’s your name, little one?”
Karen didn’t like being called “little” like that. And her instinctive response was to growl. And that’s just what she did. “Grrrr.”
“Yes.” The woman nodded good-naturedly. “I know you’re a girl.”
Just then, and before Karen could make another sound, a booming human voice came out from the house. “Smells like something’s burning in the kitchen, Gladys!”
“That’s my pumpkin pie!” she exclaimed as her eyes popped open. “I have to go!”
She quickly grabbed an apple off the tray and handed it to Karen. Karen took the stick in her mouth. The human woman didn’t notice at all. She had already twisted on her left foot, spun around, and hustled back inside.
She hurriedly put the tray down. Stick Dog could hear a last snippet of the humans’ conversation before the door closed.
“Who was that?” the male voice called.
“I’m not sure. Couldn’t hear them very well without my hearing aids,” the woman answered. “They were wearing dog costumes, I think. I couldn’t really see them. Have you seen my glasses?”
“They’re on your head!” the man laughed.
And then the door closed.
Chapter 12
STICK DOG PLANTS HIMSELF
Poo-Poo, Mutt, Karen, and Stripes all looked at each other in sheer and total amazement.
Stick Dog jumped from the front porch, skipping all three steps, and landed next to the gate. He looked through the metal bars to see if any other humans were coming—and was extremely thankful to find there were not. He nudged the gate, but it was definitely latched shut. They were trapped in that small space on the front porch.
“What just happened?” Karen asked, practically in shock.
“We got lucky,” Stick Dog gasped. “Really lucky. I don’t think that human could see or hear very well. I think she thought we were little humans in dog costumes.”
“Humans in dog costumes? That’s ridiculous!” Poo-Poo said. He seemed actually offended by such an idea. “Humans could never disguise themselves as dogs. They can’t run as fast as us for one thing. And the scent alone would give them away. We all have wonderful, distinctive aromas. And humans? Hmmph! They all smell like a soap factory. Yuck!”
Poo-Poo’s disgust and commentary would have likely continued, but it was interrupted by a single sound.
CRUNCH!
Stripes took the first bite of her caramel-covered apple.
The others turned to look at her. They had never seen, smelled, or tasted such an apple before. They were curious and intrigued by it.
Stripes didn’t say anything. She dropped the apple from her mouth and turned quickly to face the others. She closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed—and smiled. In three seconds, she took her second bite.
That was all the information Poo-Poo, Karen, and Mutt needed. They began crunching and licking and munching. Even Stick Dog delayed formulating an escape plan to eat his caramel-covered apple.
In just a few minutes, the apples were all consumed.
“Oh, man. That was amazing,” Poo-Poo sighed. He lifted his head and closed his eyes. He allowed the flavor to linger in his mouth. He wanted to savor it as long as he could. “That combination of tartness and sweetness is something I’ve never experienced before. The crispy apple and gooey coating created a swirling flavor sensation that awakened my taste buds and satisfied my belly. It was as if—”
But Poo-Poo did not continue his most excellent description.
There was a reason for that.
Stick Dog interrupted him.
“We have to g
et out of here!” he said urgently. “There will be more humans coming anytime! We have to get this gate open!”
The other dogs saw the concern and heard the anxiety in Stick Dog’s voice. He didn’t often panic. He was always the one who kept his cool. But right now, trapped in this enclosed space, even Stick Dog looked—and sounded—worried. This served to ratchet up the concern among the others instantly.
Poo-Poo left his food description talents behind and volunteered to open the gate himself. “Stick Dog?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you want me to bash my head into the gate?” Poo-Poo asked. He lowered his head and stiffened his shoulders. It was the familiar head-smashing-into-something stance they had all seen before. “I could probably build up some sprinting speed from the porch and leap into the gate. That might help.”
Stick Dog shook his head. “No, Poo-Poo. It’s a metal gate. I don’t think it would budge. And I think it would really, really hurt.”
“Suit yourself. But I’m here if you need me,” Poo-Poo said, and sat down on his hindquarters. He began to lick the Popsicle stick that had been stuck into his apple. He could still taste the remnants of the flavor. He sighed. “Mm-mmm. Apple and drippy goo.”
Stripes, Mutt, and Karen saw that Poo-Poo had discovered some remaining flavor on his stick and began licking their own sticks with great vigor and satisfaction.
“You guys!” Stick Dog said. “Put the sticks away! We have to figure out how to get out of here. Fast!”
Mutt quickly took the stick from his mouth and tucked it into his fur for safekeeping.
“Can you hold mine too?” Karen asked Mutt. “I want to save it for a late-night snack.”
Mutt nodded.
“Mine too?” asked Stripes.
“And mine?” Poo-Poo asked.
Even Stick Dog flung his stick toward Mutt.
