“See these little things?” Stick Dog said, and pointed at a few of the yellow, green, purple, orange, and red balls scattered about on the ground. He pushed a couple around with his paws. They wobbled and rolled around a bit. “These must be candy. I heard the witches talk about it when they passed by.”
Poo-Poo sniffed at one of the red candy balls. “It smells funny,” he whispered after a couple of long sniffs. “It smells sweet and familiar. Do you think I should taste it, Stick Dog?”
“I think it’s safe,” Stick Dog said immediately. “I’ve been watching the little humans who are out tonight. They reach into their sacks and buckets and eat the stuff they grab.”
“You’re sure?” asked Poo-Poo. He was becoming a little more comfortable with the idea.
“Pretty sure,” Stick Dog answered. “But I’ll go first if you want me to.”
Poo-Poo immediately raised a paw in the air. “That won’t be necessary, Stick Dog. I’m not afraid,” he said as he leaned down to pick up the red Skittle. “I’m really the expert here, as we all know.”
Stick Dog nodded. “Okay, then.”
Poo-Poo gripped a tiny red ball with his lips and lifted it off the ground and into his mouth. You could tell by the movement of his jaw and cheeks that he was rolling it around in his mouth. After several seconds he bit into it and began to chew.
And chew.
And chew.
And then he smiled and chewed some more.
“Well?” Karen, Mutt, and Stripes all asked at once.
“This so-called ‘candy’ is an invigorating blend of high-fructose corn syrup, sugar, and fruity flavoring,” Poo-Poo announced at the start of his description. “I taste perfectly ripe cherries at the front of my palate and a tart but sugary blast against my inner cheeks. This savory and sweet flavor evokes memories from my early days as a puppy on the dairy farm. There was a small orchard there with a few cherry trees.”
“There were cherry trees on the dairy farm, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt.
“Mm-hmm. Yes, those early days rollicking beneath the cherry trees are easy to remember. In my mind, I can still look up and see those trees. The sun shining and the cherry bunches glistening with clear morning dew. And the . . . and the—”
Poo-Poo suddenly stopped speaking then. His voice had been calm, almost soothing, until that moment. Then a strange, out-of-place grimace came over his face. And his voice turned harsh and angry. “And the . . . and the . . .”
“And the what, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt. The others were curious too. The stark change in Poo-Poo’s expression and voice had caught their full attention.
“And the SQUIRRELS! That’s what!” Poo-Poo screamed. His eyes were wide and menacing as he remembered. “I can see those nasty tail-shakers up in those cherry trees! They’re up in those trees with their puffy tails and snickering mouths. Chitter-chatter-chitter! Look at us! We can have all the cherries we want! We can bounce from branch to branch. Aren’t we SO special?! YOU have to wait for the cherries to fall! But WE can have cherries whenever we want! We can shove them into our chubby cheeks anytime! Erggh! Those darn squirrels! Oh, I can’t stand those sniveling chatterboxes!!!”
“Poo-Poo?” Stick Dog said calmly.
Poo-Poo didn’t hear him.
“They got all the perfectly ripe cherries! Those rotten, fluffy-tailed varmints!” Poo-Poo snarled. “All I got was the leftovers that fell to the ground. And the pits! They shot cherry pits at me like machine gun fire!”
“Poo-Poo?” Stick Dog said calmly, but louder.
“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! Watch out for cherry pits! Incoming cherry pits!” Poo-Poo was practically screaming. He was dodging his head up and down, left and right to avoid the imaginary cherry pit bombardment. “Rat-a-tat-tat!”
“Poo-Poo!” Stick Dog said—even louder.
This finally got Poo-Poo’s attention. It wasn’t very often, after all, that Stick Dog raised his voice. Poo-Poo turned his head immediately to face him.
“We’re not at the dairy farm,” Stick Dog said. His tone was calm but firm. “You’re with your friends now. Besides you proved your superiority to squirrels on that glorious day when we discovered donuts. Remember? And those squirrels back on the dairy farm?”
“Yes?” Poo-Poo snarled, conjuring the memory again. “What about those cherry-pit-dropping villains?”
“I bet they’ve never tasted candy like you just did,” Stick Dog continued. “If they could see you right now, chewing on sweet, delicious candy—they would be SO jealous. Wouldn’t they?”
This thought turned Poo-Poo’s snarl into a smile instantly.
“I bet they’ve never tasted candy before in their lives!” Poo-Poo exclaimed.
“Or hamburgers,” added Mutt.
“Or frankfurters,” Stripes chimed in.
“Or pizza,” added Karen.
“Or ice cream,” said Stick Dog.
This cooled off Poo-Poo completely. He waved at the air above his head where he had imagined those cherry trees from his puppyhood had been. “Keep your cherries, you furry-faced fuzz-buckets,” he whispered up at the empty space. Now satisfied, Poo-Poo dropped his head and looked toward Stick Dog.
“You okay now?” Stick Dog asked.
“I’m cool as a cucumber,” replied Poo-Poo.
“I lo-o-o-ve cucumbers,” Karen moaned instantly. “Even more than grapes.”
“We’ll look for cucumbers some other time,” said Stick Dog quickly. He didn’t want Karen distracted from their current mission. “But right now, we’re after some more of this candy.”
“How are we going to get some?” Karen asked, having already forgotten about cucumbers entirely.
“We’ll need a plan,” Stick Dog said.
They shared, ate—and LOVED—the rest of the candy. And they contemplated possible ways to snatch some more.