by Tom Watson
He bit down on the hook, began to pull it—and stopped.
He didn’t stop because he hurt his teeth. Or because the rubber strap pinched him. Or because a human was coming. He stopped because he heard a sound.
Wham! Crash! Boota-boota-boota.
Stick Dog yanked his head to find the source. It only took two seconds for him to figure it out.
Here’s what he saw.
The empty garbage can was on its side and rocking a little back and forth. It had just rolled to a stop. The can’s lid was clanking and wobbling on the road too. Karen, Stripes, and Mutt all stared right back at Stick Dog.
And Poo-Poo’s eyes were squeezed shut as he rubbed his head.
“Poo-Poo?!” Stick Dog scream-whispered. “Did you bash into that garbage can headfirst?”
“Hunh?” he answered, still rubbing his head.
“The can? Did you just bash into it with your head?”
“Of course I did,” he answered. “I’m Poo-Poo.”
“It was SO loud!” Stick Dog said, doing his best to not let his frustration show.
“It was?” asked Poo-Poo.
“Didn’t you hear it?” asked Stick Dog.
“Not really,” Poo-Poo answered. He had stopped rubbing his head and opened his eyes. “You know, whenever I bash my head into something, there’s kind of a dull buzzing in my brain. I don’t hear anything at all for several seconds. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear it.”
“Maybe so,” Stick Dog replied, not knowing what else to say.
Stick Dog turned quickly toward the restaurant again. Something was happening at that window that he didn’t expect. The big female human leaned out the window, squinted her eyes—and stared right at Stick Dog.
She looked angry.
“I know you’re out there!” she yelled.
Stick Dog held stone-still.
They were busted.
He had no idea what she could do next. She could come running out here with other humans. She could call a dogcatcher.
“We’re going to have to run for it,” Stick Dog whispered to his friends. Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes were all frozen in place too. “We’re not going to get the sushi. We need to try another time.”
His friends didn’t complain. They knew Stick Dog was right.
“Okay,” Stick Dog said, remaining still and whispering. He thought about the best—and safest—route back to his pipe under Highway 16. He knew humans were probably coming, but he also knew they had a minute or so before any human could get there from the restaurant across the parking lot. “We’ll go straight into the woods right now. Then we’ll make a long arc around the sushi restaurant. It’s dark, so we’ll have to go slow, but we’ll be far away from any humans. Follow me.”
Stick Dog took his first step toward the woods—and stopped.
That big female human yelled in their direction again.
She yelled something Stick Dog didn’t expect—not at all.
Chapter 17
Ha-Ha! Guess What?
The big female human was still leaning out that window and staring toward Stick Dog and his friends.
“Get out of there, you gosh-darn raccoons!” she yelled. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you! I know you’re out there! Scram! Get! Go!”
“She thinks we’re raccoons?!” Karen said quietly. “She doesn’t know the difference between a dog and a raccoon? What a wack-a-doodle!”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes all giggled a little bit.
“She thinks we’re raccoons,” Stick Dog whispered to himself. How could that be? She was staring right at them. He could see her clearly in the bright light around the window. He twitched. He understood. “We can see her, but she can’t see us. She just heard us.”
He waved in her direction.
No reaction.
“Ha-ha! Guess what?” the human yelled. “You lousy raccoons can’t get the lids off now!”
Stick Dog sat back and waved both his front legs at her.
No reaction. The female inside the restaurant turned her attention back to the customer in the car.
“Sorry about the yelling,” she said. “It will be just a minute for the rest of your order. I’ll be right back.”
He turned to his friends as the female human inside the restaurant slid the window shut and disappeared—and the female human in the car rolled her window up.
“She couldn’t see us because she was in the light—and we’re in the dark,” Stick Dog explained quickly. “She just thinks there are raccoons out here because she heard Poo-Poo knock over the garbage can. I don’t think she’s coming out or calling a dogcatcher.”
“Stick Dog?” asked Stripes.
“Yes?”
“How do you think I would look with a raccoon tail?”
“Umm, what?” Stick Dog asked. Considering their current circumstances, he definitely wasn’t expecting this kind of question.
“Well, I was just wondering,” Stripes went on. “You know, she thinks we’re raccoons and everything. I just think it would be interesting if my whole body was covered with my magnificent spots—and I had a striped tail. It would be quite a unique combination, don’t you think?”
“I think so, yes.”
“And I’m quite unique myself, aren’t I?”
“You are certainly unique,” Stick Dog said, and smiled.
Stripes liked that. She wagged her tail and strutted around a bit.
“I think we can still build the blockade and stop that car!” Stick Dog said quietly, turning serious—and urgent—again. “It might work!”
That’s all Poo-Poo, Mutt, Karen, and Stripes needed to hear. They worked with Stick Dog, pushing the other two garbage cans over. They pulled two garbage bags out and spread them across the road.
Stick Dog didn’t care about being quiet anymore. After all, they had already been discovered—sort of. The humans had heard them—though they thought the dogs were raccoons. Plus, the restaurant and car windows were closed now. Without the need to be quiet, they got their blockade built quickly.
The dogs pushed and dragged and yanked the metal garbage cans and lids into position. It all scraped and clanked and rang against the blacktop.
They were done with their blockade in thirty seconds.
They took several seconds to admire their work.
“For being brand-new at this blockade business,” Poo-Poo said, “I’d say we’re pretty darn good at it!”
After all that frantic work and noise, the night turned suddenly silent as they looked at the blockade. You could hear a breeze through the trees and water splashing softly at Lake Washituba’s shore.
Then there was another sound.
The car’s engine revved a little bit.
Stick Dog turned to look at it. He realized instantly that the customer must have gotten the rest of her order.
“The car’s coming!” he said. “Follow me!”
They reached the woods in eleven seconds. They ducked behind some weeds, bushes, and brush and stared at that car as it slowly approached. Its white headlights got bigger and brighter as it rolled closer.
And closer.
And stopped.
“It worked!” Stripes exclaimed in a whisper. “Our blockade totally worked!”
Stick Dog smiled slightly, but he knew their mission wasn’t complete yet. He figured it would take that big female human only a minute or so to move those garbage cans out of the way so she could continue home.
“You guys stay here,” he said, and ducked down as low as he could.
“I’m going to try to get into the car.”
Stick Dog reached the edge of the road and heard the engine turn off.
The big female human opened the driver’s-side door—and got out.
“Please leave the door open,” Stick Dog whispered.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” the female human said as she got out of the car. “That girl was right. Those raccoons really are a nuisance. What a pain.�
��
“Please leave the door open.”
She did.
Stick Dog watched as she walked in front of the car and began to put the garbage bags back into the cans, stand the cans upright, and drag them back to the side of the road.
“This is going to be easier than I thought,” Stick Dog whispered. It was going to take her at least a minute—maybe more—to move all that stuff out of the way. The car even acted as a perfect shield. Stick Dog was confident he wouldn’t be seen as he grabbed the sushi.
He stalked around the back of the car, staying low and stepping quietly. He climbed onto the front seat and saw two bags of sushi on the passenger seat.
He smiled—and reached for the bags.
And stopped.
There was someone else in the car.
Chapter 18
’Mere!
As Stick Dog reached for the bags, he heard two sounds come from the backseat.
He heard a gurgle—and a giggle.
He turned his head slowly—very, very slowly—to find out what made those sounds.
A small female human was in a strange seat back there. She had two bows in her hair.
Her legs kicked wildly—not in a mean way, but in an energetic, excited, fun way. She giggled some more and reached both of her hands out toward Stick Dog, squeezing her pudgy, little fingers open and shut.
“C’mere!” the little human squealed, and giggled again. “’Mere!”
Stick Dog was stuck. He was afraid if he grabbed those sushi bags and hustled away, he might startle—maybe even scare—her. She might yell or cry—and that would get the big human’s attention immediately. But he also knew he had to hurry. He could hear the big human dragging the second garbage can to the side of the road.
“’Mere!”
He had to satisfy this little human—and get out of there as fast as he could.
“’Mere!”
He leaned slowly toward the little female human. He tilted his head a little.
She petted the top of his head—and scratched him behind the ear.
Stick Dog closed his eyes and leaned closer—it felt good.
But he had to go. He could hear the big human outside the car as she dragged the third and final garbage can to the side of the road. Stick Dog pulled his head back slowly to the front seat. The small human gave him three pats on top of the head as he did.
Those felt good too.
“Ba-ba, woggy!” she said after the third pat.
Stick Dog was pretty sure it was okay to leave now.
He grasped the two sushi bags with his mouth and backed slowly out of the car.
“Ba-ba, woggy!”
Crouching down low, he headed back to his friends. He made certain to keep that car between himself and the big human female so he wouldn’t be seen. Stick Dog could hear the big human as he headed back to his friends.
“Well, that’s done,” she said, and clapped her hands after the third garbage can was off the road. “Rotten raccoons.”
He heard her walk back to the car.
Stick Dog stopped and turned to look at the car. He was safely hidden in the dark behind a tall patch of weeds. He watched the big human get in the car, reach back to the small human, and tickle her beneath the chin.
“What were you laughing about in here, you silly goose?” she asked. “Who were you talking to?”
Stick Dog couldn’t tell if that small human answered or not.
The big female human closed the door, started the car, and drove away.
He wondered when she would notice the sushi was missing.
Just to be safe, Stick Dog waited until that car’s red taillights were far away. Then he returned to his friends.
Chapter 19
Stick Dog Gets Some Advice
Karen asked, “What do you have there, Stick Dog?”
He put the bags down on the ground and answered.
“The sushi,” he said, trying really hard not to shake his head and sigh. “Remember? We built that blockade? And the car stopped?
And I snuck into the car and grabbed the bags?”
“What a great plan that was,” Karen said with admiration in her voice. “Who thought of that?”
“It was, umm, all of us,” Stick Dog said. “It was a team effort.”
Karen said, “Good for us.”
She, Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes came close to the bags and sniffed them.
And drooled.
“Come on,” Stick Dog said. “Let’s find a place with a little light so we can see what we’re eating. Mutt, can you carry one of these bags for me?”
“I’d be happy to, Stick Dog.”
They ended up back at the dock where the canoe was. With the moon and the distant light from the restaurant, they could see the sushi.
After figuring out how to get the plastic lids off the aluminum containers, they spread all that sushi out on the dock. There were five rolls cut into six pieces each. There were slices of fish on little beds of rice. They discovered those little mounds of green pasty stuff smelled spicy. And there were thinly sliced pink things that smelled sweet.
“It’s time for the chopsticks,” Stripes said hurriedly. You could tell she wanted to eat as soon as possible. She and Mutt ripped open some of the paper sleeves and passed out chopsticks to everyone as quickly as they could.
“You guys want to use chopsticks?” Stick Dog asked. He was honestly surprised at this.
“Of course,” Poo-Poo said. “That’s the way you eat sushi. We saw the humans doing it in the restaurant.”
“Yeah, Stick Dog,” Karen said. “How else would we do it?”
“You’re right, you’re right,” he replied. He didn’t want to delay getting to that sushi any longer. He didn’t believe his friends would want to use those chopsticks for very long—not with all that sushi just waiting for them.
He watched as they tried to pick up the sushi with chopsticks.
None of them could do it. It was hard to hold the sticks with their paws. It was even harder to pinch the chopsticks together to pick up a piece of sushi.
Mutt almost got a piece by stabbing a chopstick through one of the pieces, but it slid off when he brought it to his mouth.
“Errrrggh,” Poo-Poo moaned after failing on his fifth attempt. “This is impossible!”
The others were just as frustrated.
“What should we do, Stick Dog?” Stripes asked.
He was expecting this.
“Well, I think the way to eat sushi for humans is with chopsticks,” Stick Dog said calmly. “But I think the way to eat sushi for dogs is different.”
“How do dogs do it?” asked Karen with hope—and hunger—in her voice.
“I think we lean down and get a piece with our mouths,” answered Stick Dog. “And, you know, eat it.”
They all smiled at him—and dropped their chopsticks to the wooden dock.
The sushi was delicious.
They shared all the different kinds. They saved the sweet pink things for dessert.
They were finished eating in less than five minutes.
With full bellies, they were instantly sleepy.
Stick Dog saw his friends’ eyelids get droopy. Poo-Poo was already lying down—and almost asleep. Karen and Stripes walked toward Mutt, thinking they would settle in next to him.
“It’s getting late,” Stick Dog said before everybody got too comfortable. He knew they couldn’t sleep here. “We have to get back to my pipe.”
“We could just get in this boat and sleep there,” Stripes suggested, nodding toward the canoe. “Nothing bad could happen in there.”
“Yeah,” Mutt agreed. “I wouldn’t mind chewing on that rope some more.”
Stick Dog didn’t mention that the last time they were in the canoe, Mutt chewed on the rope—and they drifted out into the lake.
“No, I don’t think we should do that,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Well, last time it was the fou
r of you,” Stick Dog said. “With me it would be five of us. It might be too much weight—especially after eating all that sushi. It might sink.”
None of them liked that idea.
“You’re probably right,” Karen said, and looked at Stick Dog—sort of examining him. “It does look like you’ve put on a couple of pounds.”
“Maybe you should start working out, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said as he pushed himself up to all fours and stretched.
“You should take better care of yourself,” Mutt said as they walked off the dock. “You’re not getting any younger, Stick Dog.”
They followed Stick Dog to the woods. At the forest’s edge, he stopped and let his friends go first.
“Thanks for the advice,” he said. He pulled a branch aside so his friends could enter easily. He was happy to be on the way home.
“Let’s face it, Stick Dog,” Stripes said, turning left to follow Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Karen. “You’d be lost without us.”
“Um, guys,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. He pointed to the right. “It’s this way.”
THE END.
P.S.
Some people say it’s okay to give dogs sushi, some say it’s not. Now, Stick Dog and his pals (especially Mutt) will eat anything. They’re stray dogs, they’re hungry all the time. They have to eat whatever they can find. They’ve developed super-strong stomachs for that reason. So they did fine with sushi. But it might be best not to offer your dog sushi. Try a hamburger instead. Or a hot dog. Or pizza. Or donuts. Or spaghetti. Or barbecue ribs. Or mashed potatoes. Or tacos. —TW
About the Author
TOM WATSON lives in Chicago with his wife, daughter, and son. He also has a dog, as you could probably guess. The dog is a Labrador-Newfoundland mix. Tom says he looks like a Labrador with a bad perm. He wanted to name the dog “Put Your Shirt On” (please don’t ask why), but he was outvoted by his family. The dog’s name is Shadow. Early in his career Tom worked in politics, including a stint as the chief speechwriter for the governor of Ohio. This experience helped him develop the unique storytelling narrative style of the Stick Dog, Stick Cat, and Trouble at Table 5 books. Tom’s time in politics also made him realize a very important thing: kids are way smarter than adults. And it’s a lot more fun and rewarding to write stories for them than to write speeches for grown-ups.
