Stick Cat saw Poo-Poo’s tail.
It’s my turn to interrupt the story now. This will just take a minute.
You know who Poo-Poo is, right?
He’s from the Stick Dog stories that I write for English class. There’s a bunch of them—like nine or ten. The stories are all about five stray dogs who are always hungry and trying to sneak food from humans.
They’ve gone after hamburgers, frankfurters, pizza, donuts, spaghetti, and a bunch of other tasty treats. Stick Dog is the leader. The other characters are Stripes, a Dalmatian; Karen, a dachshund; and a mutt named Mutt.
And there’s Poo-Poo.
He’s a poodle—and he really, really, really doesn’t like squirrels.
Okay, back to Stick Cat, Edith, and Millie.
“There’s a dog behind the tree trunk,” Stick Cat whispered. “That’s who is growling. I think it’s one of the dogs we’ve seen before. A poodle.”
“A dog?” Edith whispered back.
“A dog.”
“Not a monster squirrel?”
“Not a monster squirrel.”
“I think we should try to leave here. Quietly. Super quietly,” Stick Cat added. His job right now was to get Millie out of the forest and back home. He figured a dog would only complicate the mission. “Maybe if you start walking toward home, then Millie will follow you.”
“Makes sense,” Edith responded in a hushed tone. “I am her favorite, after all.”
“That’s right,” Stick Cat confirmed.
Edith took one slow, silent step toward home.
But she didn’t take a second step.
That’s because right then, Poo-Poo circled the tree toward them. His head was fixed in an upright position, staring toward the top of the tree. An enormous growl raged from his mouth.
“He’s growling at the squirrel up in the tree,” Stick Cat explained. Poo-Poo didn’t hear him. They were too far away—and Poo-Poo’s full attention was on that squirrel.
“He doesn’t like squirrels?!” Edith whispered with genuine enthusiasm.
“I don’t think so,” said Stick Cat. “That’s why he’s growling.”
“I love this dog,” Edith exclaimed. “If he doesn’t like squirrels, he’s okay by me! Maybe he finds their airy, puffy tails as utterly revolting as I do. Have I ever mentioned their disgusting puffy tails, Stick Cat?”
“You have, yes,” he confirmed quickly.
“Well, let me just reiterate how incredibly distasteful me and this magnificent mutt find squirrel tails,” Edith said, and took a great inhale of air. It appeared she was about to go off on another long speech about the awful attributes of squirrel tails. Stick Cat didn’t want that. They didn’t have the time.
But Edith didn’t get the chance.
Right then Poo-Poo stopped growling.
He stared up into the oak tree.
And barked.
LOUDLY.
It was an angry bark.
It startled Stick Cat.
It startled Edith.
It made Millie giggle.
And then Millie did something totally surprising.
She barked back.
LOUDLY.
But it was not an angry bark.
And Poo-Poo lowered his head and jerked it toward them.
Poo-Poo stared at Stick Cat, Edith, and Millie.
And Stick Cat, Edith, and Millie stared back at Poo-Poo.
“Hello there, you marvelous mutt!” Edith called to him. He, of course, could not understand her. “I don’t like squirrels either! Aren’t their puffy tails ridiculous?!”
Then, to prove her disdain for squirrels, Edith looked up and hissed in the squirrel’s direction.
Then Millie barked again.
Stick Cat had no idea what would happen next. Ideas raced through his mind.
Bad ideas.
Would that poodle charge right at them? Would he bare his sharp teeth and snarl? Would he attack?
Stick Cat felt the fur on the back of his neck stand up a bit. He felt his claws emerge slightly from his paws.
And then Poo-Poo moved.
He took action.
He charged.
