by Tom Watson
But as he expressed his doubts, his friends seemed to be more and more convinced of the fish tree idea.
“Umm, rain, Stick Dog,” Stripes answered. “Have you ever heard of it? Rain falls on the tree to help the fish.”
“Wouldn’t rain have to be falling constantly over the tree for the fish to grow and survive?” asked Stick Dog.
“They just hold their breath between rainstorms,” Poo-Poo explained.
Mutt added, “No big deal.”
“But nobody can hold their breath that long,” Stick Dog persisted politely. “It can be weeks and weeks between rainstorms. I just don’t think it’s possible for anybody to hold their breath that long.”
“Let me demonstrate,” Poo-Poo said, and stepped next to Stick Dog.
“How?”
“I’m going to hold my breath for a couple of weeks,” Poo-Poo explained simply.
Stick Dog decided not to say anything else. He just waited and watched as Poo-Poo got ready to hold his breath for, umm, a couple of weeks. Mutt, Karen, and Stripes came closer to watch too.
Poo-Poo sat back on his rear legs. He closed his eyes, crossed his paws in front of his chest, and took three deep cleansing breaths. Once he reached a relaxed and meditative state, he took a great gulp of air.
And held it.
For three seconds.
His cheeks puffed out, but he kept his mouth closed.
Five seconds.
His eyes popped open wide.
Eight seconds.
His head began to wiggle and shake.
Eleven seconds.
Whooooosh!
Poo-Poo released all that air from his lungs and panted in and out quickly. He fell back to all fours once he was breathing normally.
“See?” Poo-Poo said, looking at Stick Dog directly.
“Umm, see what?” Stick Dog asked.
“See how long I held my breath, that’s what,” Poo-Poo responded. “How long was that?”
“I wasn’t counting,” Stick Dog said. He felt kind of bad that Poo-Poo would be disappointed with the results. “It seemed like about fifteen seconds or so. That’s a really long time. Super-impressive.”
“That proves it then,” Karen said.
“Proves what?”
She answered, “It proves that anybody—dogs, fish, whoever—can hold their breath for a long time.”
“But Poo-Poo only held his breath for fifteen seconds,” Stick Dog answered. “And while that is certainly a long time, it’s not weeks and weeks.”
Stripes said, “Close enough.”
Poo-Poo and Karen nodded their heads.
“Yeah, Stick Dog,” Mutt concurred. “It was close enough. What do you say we put this all behind us and go search for that fish tree?”
Stick Dog lowered his head and shuffled his front paws on the floor of his pipe. He smiled to himself. He loved how his friends all stuck together—even when they were totally wrong.
“Okay,” he said upon raising his head. “Let’s go look for that fish tree.”
“Hooray!” Karen yelped as she, Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo raced out of the pipe.
Stick Dog followed after them, but he did something else first. He picked up that paper sleeve that held those strange sticks. He read the words on it again.
Stick Dog knew they were not going to find a fish tree in the woods.
But he thought he knew something else too.
After reading the words on that paper sleeve, Stick Dog had an idea about where those sticks actually came from. He pulled the sticks out. He took that empty sleeve in his mouth and hustled after his friends.
Chapter 4
Burble-Burble-Glurp-Glurp!
As they ran through the woods, Poo-Poo, Stripes, Karen, and Mutt snapped their heads left and right, searching for the fish tree.
Stick Dog did not. He simply followed after them. He thought it might be best to let them not find the, umm, fish tree for a little while. But after several minutes of fruitless searching, Stick Dog was ready to change their approach.
“Hold on, everybody,” Stick Dog called after dropping that paper sleeve from his mouth.
They were all tired and happy to take a break. Conveniently, there was a small grass-covered meadow where they stopped.
“What is it, Stick Dog?” panted Stripes. “Did you find the fish tree?”
“No. I didn’t find the fish tree,” he answered.
“Then what is it?” Poo-Poo asked with a tinge of impatience in his voice. “We’re on a bit of a mission here.”
“I just think there might be a better way to search for the source of those flavorful sticks,” he said. “I was looking at this—”
“Wait a minute,” Karen said. “I think I might know a better way myself.”
“You do?” asked Stick Dog.
“I think so,” Karen said, and began to pace back and forth in that small meadow. “Instead of running around all over the place looking for the fish tree, why don’t we just stay right here and call to the fish tree and wait for it to answer. When we hear it, we’ll just follow the sound!”
“Great idea,” Poo-Poo said, and flopped down on his belly. He seemed quite happy to have a little rest.
Stripes and Mutt thought it was a good idea too.
“We wait for the tree to answer?” Stick Dog asked.
“That’s right,” confirmed Karen.
“But trees don’t, you know, talk.”
“Of course the fish tree doesn’t talk, Stick Dog,” Karen said. She seemed a bit surprised at Stick Dog’s lack of fish tree knowledge.
“Then how will it answer your call?”
“It’s not the tree that answers, silly,” Karen said. “It’s the fish in the tree that we’ll hear.”
“You mean the fish that grow in the tree and hold their breath for days and days to survive?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, then,” Stick Dog said, and nodded. He figured it was probably easier just to stop questioning any of this. He wasn’t frustrated. He had, after all, listened to plenty of his friends’ bizarre theories and strategies over the years. “Why don’t you go ahead and call the fish tree, Karen? And we’ll see if it answers.”
Karen nodded, pleased that Stick Dog was accepting of her plan. She took a deep inhale of air, preparing to yell out into the woods. She waited and held her breath.
And then let that great gush of air out.
“What’s the matter, Karen?” asked Stripes.
Mutt asked, “Is something wrong?”
Poo-Poo yawned.
“I don’t speak fish language,” Karen explained. You could tell she was disappointed. “How am I supposed to call to the fish in the fish tree if I don’t even speak their language?”
Stick Dog hung his head. He realized this might take longer than he originally thought. As he gazed down, he examined that paper that had held those flavorful sticks. The more he thought about it, the more he believed he might just know where those sticks came from.
And he was anxious to find out if he was right.
“Karen,” he said, lifting his head. “You know, I think fish often blow bubbles when they’re swimming around. I’ve seen bubbles rise and pop on the surface of the creek. And I’m pretty sure some of those bubbles come from fish. Maybe you should yell out some bubbly sounds. Maybe the fish in the, umm, fish tree would respond to that.”
“Great idea, Stick Dog!” Karen exclaimed. She had gone from disappointed to excited in an instant. “I’ll give it a try!”
She took another big breath of air—and then yelled out.
“Burble-Burble-Glurp!” she called. “Burble-Burble-Glurp-Glurp!”
She tilted her head to the left to listen for a response. Stripes, Mutt, and Poo-Poo listened intently as well.
“Did anybody hear the fish tree answer?” Karen whispered.
Nobody had.
Karen tried again.
“Burble-BURBLE!” she yelled even louder. “Glurp-GLU
RP!”
Silence.
And more silence.
“The fish in the fish tree don’t seem to be listening,” Karen announced to the group. “What should we do, Stick Dog?”
“Well, first I want to tell you something very important,” he said to Karen.
“What’s that?”
“I just want you to know that those bubble sounds were excellent,” Stick Dog said. “I mean, I thought there were actual bubbles coming out of your mouth for a minute. It’s a great skill that I didn’t know you had.”
“Wow, thanks,” Karen responded proudly. “You know what else I’m good at?”
“What?”
“Chasing my tail!” she exclaimed. “Watch this!”
Then Karen chased her tail.
While she did that, Stick Dog picked up that slender paper sleeve and brought it closer to the group. He situated himself in the center of his friends, dropped the paper, and waited for Karen to finish.
When she was done chasing her tail after a minute or so, Stick Dog said, “That was fantastic, Karen.”
“Thanks,” she panted.
“Even though I’d like to continue our search for the fish tree,” Stick Dog said, “I think maybe this paper package might help lead us to those flavorful sticks. I think it has a clue on it.”
“It does?” Stripes asked. “Why did you wait so long to tell us?”
Chapter 5
Revealing the Clue
“Come look at this,” Stick Dog said, and nodded down at the paper sleeve. He wanted them to get a good look at that package before it got much darker. Late afternoon had turned into early evening—and the daylight was beginning to fade. “I think there’s a clue here.”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, Karen, and Stripes examined the paper sleeve as Stick Dog read the words on it.
“‘Lakeside Sushi Restaurant. Fish Is the Dish!’” he read. “There’s even a picture of a fish on it.”
“So, what’s the clue?” Stripes asked.
“‘Lakeside Sushi Restaurant’ is the clue,” Stick Dog said. “I think the sticks came from this restaurant.”
“What’s sushi?” asked Poo-Poo. “I’ve never heard that word before.”
“Me neither,” Stick Dog answered honestly. “I think it must have something to do with fish. But we do know the word ‘restaurant.’ Humans eat lots of different foods at restaurants. And the word ‘lakeside’ is easy to figure out—I’m pretty sure it means by the side of a lake.”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Karen all looked at Stick Dog with puzzled expressions. Mutt seemed to talk for all of them when he asked, “I’m still not getting it. Where’s this so-called clue you’ve been talking about, Stick Dog?”
“Umm,” he said, and paused. He wanted to explain himself clearly and concisely. He wanted to keep his answer simple and short. “I think there’s a fish restaurant near a lake.”
“But there are millions of lakes all over the world,” Stripes moaned. “How will we know which lake to look at?”
“That’s true, Stripes,” he answered. “But there’s only one lake around here. Lake Washituba. It’s past Picasso Park and through a small patch of woods.”
“So what do you think we should do, Stick Dog?” asked Poo-Poo.
“I think we should, you know, go to that lake and see if there’s a restaurant there,” Stick Dog said. He thought that much would be obvious, but apparently it wasn’t.
Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo all thought this was a pretty good plan. But Karen wasn’t quite so certain.
“I don’t know about this,” she said, pulling her mouth to one side and squinting her eyes a bit. “I still think calling out to the fish in the fish tree might be the way to go.”
“Yes, that is a good plan too,” Stick Dog said as seriously as he could muster. “I tell you what, Karen. As we go to the lake, how about if you keep calling out those bubbly sounds intermittently? And if the fish answer, we’ll find that tree.”
“What does ‘intermittently’ mean?” asked Karen.
“It means you’ll call out to the fish tree every now and then,” answered Stick Dog.
“Okay,” Karen said, satisfied with this approach.
“All right,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. He was happy to get their quest started. He turned in the direction of Lake Washituba. “Let’s roll.”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes followed Stick Dog through the woods.
Karen did not.
She had something to do first.
She yelled, “Burble-Burble-Glurp!”
Chapter 6
Interesting Marriages
Stick Dog led the way through the woods. He wove in, out, and around clumps of brambles, fallen tree branches, and honeysuckle bushes. It took several minutes to reach the edge of Picasso Park.
Stick Dog scanned the park from the forest line. He saw two big humans walking along the exercise path, but they were moving in the opposite direction. He didn’t expect to see any little humans—and he didn’t. With dusk approaching, he knew most of them were inside their homes getting ready for dinner.
“It’s all clear,” Stick Dog said to his friends as he stepped out of the woods.
Mutt, Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Karen emerged from the forest.
“Where’s Lake Washituba?” asked Stripes.
“It’s on the other side of the park, past the swing set and the basketball courts,” Stick Dog said, and pointed. “And then through another patch of woods. We still have a ways to go. But the coast is clear. We should be able to get there pretty quickly.”
“Did you say past the basketball courts?” asked Karen.
“That’s right.”
“The basketball courts where my favorite garbage can is?” Karen asked.
“Yes,” Stick Dog answered slowly. He knew where this might be going.
“Do you think we could take a break from our long and perilous journey to Lake Washituba?” Karen asked. “And check my garbage can for tasty scraps?”
“Umm,” Stick Dog said, and thought about it for a few seconds. He didn’t really want to delay their trip to the lake. The sooner they found out if there was a restaurant there, the sooner they might get some of those flavorful sticks. But he couldn’t deny Karen’s wish. She had found plenty of things to eat in that garbage can. He hid his reluctance and said, “Sure we can. We’ll give it a quick check and then keep moving.”
“Yay!” Karen said. She spun around a couple of times to express her excitement. “Maybe we’ll find some barbecue potato chips!”
“Maybe we will,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. He was already feeling better about his decision after seeing her excitement.
“I love barbecue potato chips!”
“I know you do.”
“If I could, I would totally marry a barbecue potato chip!”
This caught the attention of Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Mutt.
“You can marry food?” Stripes asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Karen answered simply.
“If I was going to marry a food,” Poo-Poo said, “I would marry a hamburger. No doubt.”
“I would marry a pizza,” Mutt said. Just thinking about such a prospect made him drool a little bit.
Stripes declared her matrimonial choice next. She said, “I would marry a taco.”
“What about you, Stick Dog?” Karen asked, hopping up and down. “What kind of food would you marry?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. He was amused by his friends’ conversation. It was always entertaining when they got going on an interesting subject. “I’d have to think about it. But can I ask you guys a question about this idea?”
“Sure, Stick Dog,” Mutt said. “What is it?”
“What if you married all of these foods—a barbecue potato chip, hamburger, pizza, and taco?” he said. “And then you got super-hungry. Wouldn’t it be really hard to be married to something so delicious when you were totally hungry? What would you do?”
“It wouldn
’t be hard at all,” Karen said immediately. “I know exactly what I would do.”
“And what’s that?” Stick Dog asked.
“I’d eat my husband,” Karen said. “Or my wife. Whichever it is. Chow time!”
“You would?”
“Sure, no problem,” Karen said, and brought a pretend barbecue potato chip–spouse to her mouth and ate it. “Muncha, muncha!”
“What about you guys?” Stick Dog said to the others. “Would you eat your husbands and wives too?”
“Sure,” said Mutt.
“Absolutely,” said Stripes.
“There’s no question about it,” Poo-Poo answered, and then explained a little more. “Hunger is way more important than love, Stick Dog. Everybody knows that.”
“Hmm, I guess I didn’t know that,” replied Stick Dog. He eyeballed the basketball courts and swing sets on the other side of Picasso Park. “Come on. Let’s get over to Karen’s favorite garbage can and see if there are any scraps.”
They got to that garbage can quickly.
But when they got there, they didn’t look for scraps.
Something had got there before them.
And it was still there.
Chapter 7
The Vast Infinity of the Cosmos
Something stuck out of Karen’s favorite garbage can—and it twitched.
It was a tail.
“It’s a squirrel!” Poo-Poo growled and tensed up. His body shivered with rage. “I’d recognize that type of puffy tail anywhere. There’s a nasty, chittering, foul-smelling, squirrel beast in there!”
Nobody saw Stick Dog shake his head slightly as the squirrel discovery took place. He knew this would distract Poo-Poo—and, unfortunately, delay their trip to Lake Washituba.
Poo-Poo growled deeply from his belly—an angry, dark, and guttural growl.
