Stick Dog Wants a Hot Dog (10 page)

“Stick Dog?” whispered Mutt. “Can you explain any of this? This guy's scaring me. I mean, really scaring me. I think he's mad at the carpet or something. He's pounding it with his whole body.”

“I can't explain it,” Stick Dog answered, and shook his head. “Oh no! I think he's coming out. Be ready to run if I say so.”

Indeed, the bearded man with the wire in his ear had stood up and walked toward the sliding glass door.

“Should we run?” Poo-Poo asked. “Please say yes. I want to get out of here!”

“No, wait,” said Stick Dog. “Hold still. I don't think he's coming out.”

The man did not reach toward the handle to slide the door open. Instead, he turned his body sideways and stared blankly at the glass. He then sucked in his belly and puffed out his chest. He did this several times.

And then he left.

The dogs all looked at each other with shock on their faces. They had never seen such a weird display of actions from a human.

Finally, Mutt asked the question that all of them were thinking. He asked, “What was Mister Beard-O Strange-O doing in there?”

It was quiet for a moment while they tried to figure it out. Then Poo-Poo provided a theory.

“I think I know,” he said. There was confidence in his voice, as if the correct answer had suddenly dawned on him—and he was now quite sure of it.

“What?” asked Mutt.

“I've seen birds doing it in the forest,” Poo-Poo answered. “It's called a mating dance. He's trying to attract a girlfriend.”

“That makes sense,” said Mutt.

“Well, of course,” said Stripes. “I was just about to think of that myself.”

Poo-Poo, now gaining even more confidence from his friends' reactions, continued. “That's why he did it here in front of the glass door. He's hoping a female is looking in. Obviously, there wasn't one around, so he stopped.”

Mutt and Stripes nodded and then turned to Stick Dog. “What do you think, Stick Dog? Do you think all that stuff was a human mating dance?”

“I don't know,” answered Stick Dog. He then shook his head vigorously for a couple of seconds. It looked like he was trying to shake the visual memory of the human's behavior out of his mind. When he stopped shaking his head, Stick Dog tilted it ever so slightly to the side. “Wait a minute. Quick! To the screen door at the front of the house! Follow me!”

“Why?” Poo-Poo asked, tensing up and getting ready to run.

“I'll explain when we get there.”

They ran along the side of the house to the front. To their good fortune, there was a line of bushes on either side of the front door. The heavy main door was open, but the screen door was closed securely. They hid out of sight between the house and the bushes. Panting and crouching there, Mutt asked Stick Dog, “What's the plan? Why are we here?”

“This is going to be easy,” said Stick Dog, looking at each of them in turn. “That human is getting ready to exercise. He's going to come out any minute and ride a bike or run down the sidewalk. That's what he was doing in there—getting his body ready to move.”

“You mean it wasn't a mating dance?” asked Stripes.

“I don't think so,” said Stick Dog.

“I'm not so sure, Stick Dog,” said Poo-Poo doubtfully. “I think he was trying to get a girlfriend. Let's be honest; that guy looks desperate.”

Stick Dog was nodding his head while listening to Poo-Poo. He was also searching under the bush for something. In a few seconds, he had a long stick in his mouth. He dropped it right in front of him and then addressed Poo-Poo.

“You might be right—and I might be wrong, Poo-Poo,” said Stick Dog quickly. “He may have been performing a mating dance ritual or he may have been getting ready to run on the sidewalk. Either way, I think he's going to be coming out this door any minute—either to start running or biking. Or to look for a girlfriend.”

This was enough to satisfy Poo-Poo. “You're right: either one of us could be correct,” he said. “What do we do when he comes out?”

“I know how these doors work,” said Stick Dog. “They swing open fast when humans push on them. But they close slowly before slamming shut. We're going to hide right here. When he comes out to run or bike or whatever—”

“Or go hunting for a little lovey-dovey,” added Poo-Poo.

“Right, or, umm, what you said,” Stick Dog conceded. “That door will close slowly behind him. He'll be several steps away, and I'll slip this stick into the door before it closes. It won't shut all the way, and we'll be able to push it open and let Karen out.”

They crouched down and waited for the bearded human to come to the door.

After three minutes, someone did come.

It wasn't the man with the beard.

Chapter 8
Plummeting Clumsily

It was Karen.

She stood on her back paws and put her front paws up on the door and pressed her nose to the screen, stretching it forward.

Stick Dog saw her first. He ran out from between the bush and the house. He spoke urgently. “Get back! I think that human is about to come out! When he does, I'm going to slip this stick into the door. It won't close, and you can escape! Go hide again! Fast!”

By this time, Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo had emerged from the hiding spot too. They were all crowded around the door now.

“I'm so glad you're safe,” said Poo-Poo. He was shaking with nervous energy.

“Me too!” said Mutt.

“Did you find anything to eat in there?” asked Stripes.

“Just crumbs,” Karen answered casually. “I hid under the kitchen table when I heard him coming earlier. You know, back by the glass door.”

Stick Dog was curious. “Why are you so calm? Don't you want to get out of there?”

“Oh, yeah,” answered Karen. “This guy's a real nut ball. Did you see all that weird stuff he was doing?”

“I'm pretty sure it was a mating dance,” Poo-Poo said, and then puckered his lips. “He's looking for a little smooncha-smooncha. If you know what I mean.”

Karen nodded her head. “That makes sense, I guess. Even though that's really gross to think about.”

Stick Dog tried to get them back on subject. He couldn't understand why Karen was not panicked. “So why are you so calm?”

“Oh, yeah. Right,” Karen answered. “This human's whacko, all right. I need to get out of here. But I'm pretty sure we have some time. He went downstairs, and it looks like he's going to be there for a while. He's doing the strangest thing I've ever seen.”

“Stranger than before?” asked Stripes.

Karen nodded. “He went down some steps and didn't come up. And he was making some weird noises. So I went to have a look. I went down a couple of steps and took a peek.”

“What did you see?” asked Mutt.

“What was he doing?” Poo-Poo asked.

“What kind of crumbs were there under the kitchen table?” asked Stripes.

“Nothing very good. Crackers and stale bread, I think,” Karen answered.

Stick Dog shook his head a little. They had to get Karen out of there. And even if they did have more time to do so than he thought, it didn't change the fact that he had quickly gone from pretty hungry to almost starving. His stomach was growling almost constantly now. And he knew that darn raccoon, Phyllis, was probably getting closer and closer to that frankfurter cart. “Why do you think we have plenty of time?”

“He's doing this odd thing downstairs,” said Karen. “He's running.”

“Running? Inside?” asked Stripes.

“Running. Inside.”

“In a circle?” asked Mutt, tilting his head slightly. “Like when you chase your tail and don't catch it?”

“I caught it once. On January sixteenth. Best day ever,” Karen corrected. And then she said, “No, he's running in a straight line.”

“A straight line?! He must be running face-first into the wall over and over,” said a wide-eyed Poo-Poo. “I'm starting to like this human.”

Karen smiled and shook her head. “No, no. He's on this machine that has its own floor, sort of. The floor goes around and around. He runs but doesn't move.”

Stripes, Poo-Poo, and Mutt all had confused expressions on their faces, trying to picture what Karen was describing. They turned toward Stick Dog to see if he could explain it. He usually could.

“He runs but doesn't go anywhere. On purpose,” Stick Dog said, as much to himself as to the others. “What kind of creature would do that? It's ridiculous.”

It was then that they felt a strong breeze. It flapped the sheets and clothes that were drying on the line. And, more important, it blew the aromas from the frankfurter cart in their direction. They all lifted their noses and sniffed at the meaty scent.

“Okay,” Stick Dog said. “Who cares? This human likes to shove little things in his ears, he moves his body in strange ways, and he's running without going anywhere. It doesn't matter. He can be as strange as he wants to be. That's his business, not ours. Our business is getting Karen out of this house and then snatching those frankfurters.”

With the help of the frankfurter smells drifting past, it was easy for them all to refocus on their mission.

“Now, if he's not going to be coming through this door anytime soon, how are we going to get you out of there?” asked Stick Dog. “There has to be a way.”

“There is,” said Karen. “There's a window open at the back of the house. I found it when I was looking around. I'm just going to hop out.”

“Really?” Stick Dog said, clearly surprised. “Why didn't you hop out before?”

“Well, I wanted to get all of the crumbs I could,” Karen admitted. “And then I thought I heard you guys out here. I didn't want you to worry.”

“There's really an open window?” asked Stick Dog.

“Really.”

“Well, how about that?” said Stick Dog, smiling. “Finally, an easy solution. No elaborate plans or sneaking around. Great. We'll meet you in the back then.”

Karen winked and pointed a paw at Stick Dog, pressing it against the screen. “You betcha.”

They stalked away from the front door, careful to stay out of the view of Peter, the frankfurter man. They scurried on their bellies to stay low and out of sight.

They stopped once about halfway. Another breeze had lifted one of the sheets, and they paused to look at the frankfurter cart and sniff that meaty scent drifting on the wind. When they looked, however, they saw something else.

Phyllis was now positioned in a sycamore tree—much closer to Peter and the cart. And that wasn't the worst of it.