Stick Dog Meets His Match Page 5

  “What do you mean ‘the side of the truck said so’?” Poo-Poo interrupted.

  “Yeah, Stick Dog,” Stripes jumped in.

  “Trucks can’t talk. How could it say that it was full of meat?”

  “I mean—” Stick Dog started to explain.

  “Wait, wait,” Karen interjected. “Is this some kind of magical talking truck, Stick Dog? I mean, if it can communicate, why don’t we just ask it for some of its scrumptious meaty contents? We could just say, ‘Hey, Mister Meat Truck, how about you share some meat with us’?”

  “It’s not just going to give us some meat if we ask, Karen,” Poo-Poo said. “That would be ridiculous.”

  “Guys, I didn’t mean the truck could actually—” Stick Dog tried to say. But his friends had placed their attention elsewhere now.

  “Why not, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt. “Why wouldn’t the truck just give us some meat if we ask?”

  “If you had a bunch of meat, would you just hand it out willy-nilly?” asked Poo-Poo rhetorically.

  “No, I guess I wouldn’t,” Mutt replied.

  “Guys, umm—”

  “So, what should we do, Poo-Poo?” asked Stripes. “What should our approach be?”

  “I think we should flatter this talking meat truck,” Poo-Poo suggested.

  Mutt asked, “How so?”

  “Well, we just give it tons of compliments and stuff,” Poo-Poo explained. “You know, tell it how great it looks. How its tires are nice and round. How it smells good. How its headlights sparkle in the sunshine. That kind of stuff. Then, once it’s feeling good about itself—and good about us—we could politely ask it for some meat. It would probably just spit some out the window at us. Then it’s chow time!”

  “Just a bit of flattery will do the trick?” asked Mutt. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do,” replied Poo-Poo. “You’d be surprised how far a few compliments can go.”

  “Great plan!” exclaimed Karen. “Boy oh boy. It’s really fortunate that this meat truck can talk. I mean, who needs a plan when you can just ask it for stuff? That’s the best!”

  Poo-Poo was excited that his friends had bought into his idea so quickly. He said, “Come on!”

  And with that, Poo-Poo took three quick steps away from Karen’s hole and toward the parking lot.

  Stripes, Mutt, and Karen followed him without hesitation.

  Stick Dog did not.

  “Stop,” he called before they could go any farther. He didn’t yell or scream. But he did raise his voice just a smidgeon.

  They stopped.

  “What is it, Stick Dog?” Stripes asked. “We’re in a bit of a hurry here.”

  “I didn’t mean the truck could talk,” Stick Dog explained quickly. “I just read the words on the side. And it’s also, you know, not there. It drove away a little while ago.”

  “It did?” asked Mutt.

  “It did.”

  “Well, where in the world were we going then?” asked Poo-Poo.

  “I’m not sure,” Stick Dog said kindly. “But it doesn’t really matter.”

  Stripes asked, “Why not?”

  “Because I think I know where that meat truck went,” Stick Dog replied, and watched as his friends turned around and came closer to him. “The side of the truck read, ‘Mike’s Magnificent Meats. Get your meat where the four streets meet.’ And there’s only one place I can think of around here where four streets come together. It’s right in the middle of town.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Poo-Poo said. He wasn’t completely convinced. “You think if we go to the place where four streets meet, then we’ll find the meat truck.”

  “And maybe even a meat store or something,” Stick Dog said.

  Then Stick Dog did something he doesn’t usually do. He didn’t wait to discuss the matter any further with his friends. Instead, he just took off toward town.

  And, thankfully, Mutt, Poo-Poo, Karen, and Stripes took off right after him.

  Stick Dog wanted to get to that place where the four streets meet.

  He was thinking about the prospect of a meaty meal for his friends and himself.

  And he was thinking about that German shepherd.

  CHAPTER 16

  DOG FOOD!

  They got to the edge of town quickly. But when they got there, they moved much slower to get to its center. They didn’t want to be spotted. They ducked behind mailboxes, garbage cans, and parked cars. They peeked out from behind stuff to make sure there weren’t any humans around before moving again. Eventually they got to the place where the four streets meet. From behind a bench on the sidewalk, they spied everything around.

  They saw a flower store, a cupcake shop, a post office, and several other places.

  And they saw Mike’s Magnificent Meats.

  “There it is,” Stick Dog said, and pointed.

  It had a big glass window in front. And through that window, they could see a great variety of meats displayed. There were hams, sausages, beef roasts, pork chops, bacon, and plenty of other things too.

  Karen whispered, “Is this heaven?”

  Stick Dog was just as thrilled as his friends. He had never seen so much meat in one place in his whole life. But he knew they couldn’t remain in their current position. Even behind that bench, he felt too exposed. He wanted to sneak behind the back of Mike’s Magnificent Meats. He wanted to find out if there was a back door.

  He knew they couldn’t move yet though.

  And he knew they had to be silent.

  That’s because a woman walked by on the other side of the street just then. She had a dog walking beside her.

  It was a beagle.

  “Shh,” whispered Stick Dog.

  Now, he and his friends had often seen other dogs, of course. When they had, those other dogs always had humans with them—just like this beagle. And Stick Dog and his friends were strays. They always—always—stayed hidden the best they could when humans were around. Stick Dog never risked the chance that he or his friends might be caught and their group separated.

  So they stayed hidden—and stayed quiet—behind that bench.

  Until the woman and the beagle were out of sight.

  Only then did Stick Dog speak to his friends.

  “Okay, it’s time to move,” Stick Dog whispered to them. “I want to see if this store has a back—”

  “Stick Dog?” Karen interrupted.

  “Yes?”

  “Why was that beagle walking next to that female human?”

  “I think the beagle and that human live together,” Stick Dog said. “They’re roommates.”

  “Why wasn’t he tied to her with a string?” Poo-Poo asked.

  “I think those strings are called leashes,” Stick Dog answered.

  Mutt asked, “Why wasn’t there a leash?”

  “You’re right,” Stick Dog said quickly and quietly. He wanted to move out of there and get to the back of the store. “We usually see humans and dogs connected with leashes. But sometimes we don’t. Sometimes, the dog just walks beside the human like that beagle.”

  “Why didn’t that beagle run away?” Stripes asked.

  “He must, you know, like being roommates with that human,” Stick Dog answered.

  “But what about running around wherever you want?” Poo-Poo said. “And knocking over garbage cans? And seeing the stars at night? And hanging out with your friends whenever you want? Wouldn’t you run away as fast as you could to do those things?”

  “I see what you mean,” Stick Dog said and smiled. “But dogs who have human roommates like the way their lives are too.”

  “How so?” asked Mutt.

  “Well, they always have a warm place to sleep,” Stick Dog explained. “They always have food to eat. They always—”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Karen said. “Are you saying that when you have a human roommate, you’re never hungry?”

  “Pretty much,” Stick Dog said. “I think humans feed their do
g roommates every day.”

  “Every day?!” Poo-Poo exclaimed.

  “Shh,” Stick Dog said. He took a quick glance above the bench. He saw a male human coming toward them on their side of the street. He ducked back down. “There’s a human coming toward us. But, yes, humans feed their dog roommates every day.”

  An unusual sentiment seemed to wash across his friends then as they considered this idea. Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes tilted their heads a little. They glanced upward a bit.

  Poo-Poo seemed to speak for the group when he said quietly, “Getting fed every day wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, there are days when we don’t find anything to eat at all.”

  “It’s true,” Stick Dog said. “There are some days when we don’t eat.”

  “What do these human roommates feed the dogs?” asked Mutt.

  “Do they feed them hamburgers, hot dogs, and pizza?” asked Stripes.

  Karen asked, “And ice cream, donuts, and spaghetti?”

  “And candy and barbecue ribs and tacos?” asked Poo-Poo.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Stick Dog whispered even more quietly. He figured that male human was getting pretty close by now. “I don’t think dogs with human roommates get things like that to eat at all. I think they get dog food.”

  “Dog food!” Poo-Poo exclaimed.

  “Shh!”

  “Food made out of dogs?!” Stripes yelped.

  “Shh! Shh!” Stick Dog answered as quietly and urgently as he could. “Not food made out of dogs. Food made for dogs. It comes in little pieces.”

  “What’s it made out of?”

  “I’m not sure anybody really knows,” Stick Dog whispered. He could hear the big male human’s footsteps getting closer on the sidewalk. “They eat it every day though, I think. It’s just given to them.”

  Then a completely different feeling seemed to come over his friends.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that!” Poo-Poo exclaimed, shaking his head. “Who would want to eat the same thing every day! And not even know what it is! That’s ridiculous! Where’s the variety?! Where’s the hunt? Where’s the adventure?!”

  Stripes, Mutt, and Karen all agreed with Poo-Poo.

  “Quiet!” Stick Dog scream-whispered.

  Those footsteps were super-close now.

  And then they stopped.

  And the male human sat down.

  On the bench.

  CHAPTER 17

  SCOOTER TAKES A SEAT

  “What a beautiful day,” the man said as he plopped down on the bench. “I’m just going to sit and enjoy it for a minute.”

  Stick Dog didn’t say anything.

  He couldn’t.

  Obviously.

  That male human was just inches away.

  Stick Dog held a paw up to his mouth and stared wide-eyed and seriously at his friends. Thankfully, they all understood. They didn’t make a sound or move a muscle.

  For two whole minutes.

  During that two minutes, the man stretched and sighed. He stared up as the white clouds drifted across the deep blue sky. He yawned and stretched again. And then he stood up.

  “Well, Scott,” he said to himself. “These supplies for the barbecue are not going to buy themselves. Time to get moving.”

  The man looked left, then right, then left again. He stepped off the sidewalk and onto the street.

  He headed straight toward Mike’s Magnificent Meats.

  And Stick Dog got ready to go too.

  CHAPTER 18

  SNEAKY AND STEALTHY

  The discussion he just had with his friends about that beagle made an idea pop into Stick Dog’s head. It happened right when that human started toward Mike’s Magnificent Meats.

  Sometimes, Stick Dog reminded himself, dogs walk close to their human roommates without a leash.

  It looks perfectly natural.

  Nobody would suspect a thing.

  Stick Dog snapped his head over his shoulder to look at his friends.

  “I’m going into the meat store!” he said quickly and with complete conviction. “You guys sneak around to the back. I’ll try to meet you there!”

  Before any of his friends could say a word, Stick Dog hustled out from behind the bench. He looked left. He looked right. He saw a few humans around, but none of them were very close. There were no cars coming.

  He looked ahead.

  Scott, the human, was almost halfway across the street.

  And Stick Dog hurried to follow him.

  He was used to moving quietly—and sneakily.

  He had snuck around town looking for scraps. He had moved through the woods silently to avoid detection when he could hear humans wandering about. He wasn’t absolutely positive he could move behind the male human without being seen by him.

  But he thought he had a pretty good chance.

  Stick Dog took his steps in rhythm with the man’s steps. He set his paw pads down lightly without making a sound or scattering a pebble. He crouched his head down, lowering his profile. They crossed the double-yellow line in the middle of the street and kept going.

  Stick Dog stayed stealthy.

  The man stepped onto the sidewalk—and two seconds later, so did Stick Dog.

  The man pulled the glass door open.

  Stick Dog could see Mike the meat man past the counter inside the store. He was turned away from the door, cutting something with a big rectangular knife at a table in the back.

  Scott went into the store.

  So did Stick Dog.

  CHAPTER 19

  STICK DOG IS STUCK

  Inside the store, there were two long glass cases where the vast variety of meats were displayed. Those two cases were connected by a counter with a cash register straight ahead. There was a door in the back of the store near where Mike, the meat man was. As Scott headed toward the counter, Stick Dog turned left as quietly as he could.

  He crouched low behind the long glass case. He propped himself up just high enough to see the humans in the store. He could hear them too.

  “Scott, good to see you,” Mike the meat man said as he turned around and put his metal cleaver down. “Is it a barbecue weekend?”

  “Yes, it is, Mike,” Scott said, smiling and looking around.

  Stick Dog ducked down. As he did, he saw—and smelled—what was in the glass case he hid behind. There were platters of big hamburger patties, huge piles of sausages, and a bunch of the longest hot dogs he’d ever seen.

  He listened to the conversation between the two humans.

  “Well, what will it be? I just cut some rib eye steaks,” Mike the meat man asked, walking over to the other glass case. He pointed at the steaks from behind the case while Scott eyeballed them from the front. “They’re good for grilling.”

  “Sounds great, but I think I’ll go with the basics this time,” Scott answered after thinking about it for a moment. “Alex likes hamburgers and Josh likes hot dogs. Do you have any foot-long hot dogs?”

  Stick Dog opened his eyes wide.

  Hamburgers and hot dogs? That’s right where he was. Scott would walk over and look through the glass and probably see him. Mike the meat man would walk around from the back and definitely see him.

  He was stuck.

  For the first time in a long time, Stick Dog didn’t know what to do.

  Then something hit him in the head.

  CHAPTER 20

  LUCY HELPS OUT

  It was a yellow rope.

  It was the yellow rope that he had seen in that German shepherd’s—Lucy’s—mouth in the truck at the parking lot.

  Stick Dog snapped his head around.

  He saw her there.

  His heart raced.

  His heart fluttered.

  Lucy leaped toward him.

  She stopped right in front of him. She picked up the rope with her mouth and pointed urgently toward the door at the back of the store.

  Stick Dog understood.

  Lucy was helping him.

  H
e got down low and scurried on his belly as fast as he could toward that door. While he did that, Lucy ran around the front of the case with her rope. She jumped and yelped and wagged her tail.

  Scott, the customer, jumped back a bit and stared at her.

  Mike the meat man came to a halt. He looked over the opposite glass case at her. He seemed surprised too.

  “Lucy-girl!” he called happily. “What are you so excited about? You want to play? I thought you were taking a nap in the back room!”

  Lucy jumped and barked and wagged her tail even more.

  “All right, all right!” Mike said, and changed direction, coming out from behind the glass cases on the other side. Stick Dog saw this and hurried into the back room.

  Inside the back room, Stick Dog saw a desk, a chair, a back door with a belt hanging on it, a blanket, several cardboard boxes, and two big silver refrigerators. He picked out the darkest corner of the room and backed into it. He listened to what happened out in the store.

  He heard Mike the meat man play tug-of-war with Lucy for a minute. He heard the two male humans discuss the proper way to cook hamburgers on a grill. He heard Mike package up some hamburgers and hot dogs for Scott. He heard two more customers come in.

  And then he heard Lucy pad her way toward the back room.

  He watched the doorway.

  He saw her come in—and he knew he had to trust her. He was trapped. And she had already helped him. He stepped from the darkness of the corner.