“Do you guys remember when we got those donuts?” Karen began.
Poo-Poo and Mutt said they did. Stick Dog and Stripes nodded.
“Well, I think we should use some of the things we used that morning. One thing, specifically,” Karen continued. She spoke with pure confidence as she walked and talked in front of them. Her dachshund chest was puffed out; her stride was steady and strong as she spoke. “I think we should use that nail that we used back then. Well, nails really. A bunch of them.”
“I have lots of nails,” Mutt said. He shook his back left hip and three nails, a bottle cap, and an old orange marker fell from his fur.
Poo-Poo asked, “What do we use the nails for, Karen?”
“When all the humans are sitting down, we’re going to sneak into the gazebo real quiet-like,” she explained. “We’ll get under the tables just like we got under the table at the Tip-Top Spaghetti Restaurant.”
“What do we do under the tables?” Mutt asked as he tucked the orange marker and bottle cap back into his fur.
“Here comes the best part,” Karen said. She stopped to look at them all. She wanted to build up some drama for a few seconds.
Stick Dog asked, “What’s the, umm, best part?”
“We take the nails and hammer them into all the shoes under all the tables!” exclaimed Karen. She was clearly proud of her idea. “We’ll nail them to the floor! They won’t be able to move! We can eat the entire buffet. They won’t be able to do a thing!”
“I’m in!” said Mutt. He then began to shake vigorously to let loose some more nails.
“Great plan!” said Stripes.
Poo-Poo asked, “Humans have more than one shoe, Karen. Should we hammer more shoes to the floor—or just one shoe each?”
“It’s an excellent question,” acknowledged Karen. “I believe nailing one shoe will do the trick, but two would definitely be more secure. Let’s nail two shoes per human.”
“Maybe we should do three,” Poo-Poo added. He liked that Karen had taken his thoughts seriously. “If two is better than one, then three is better than two. Should we do three shoes per human instead of two?”
It didn’t take long for Karen to change her plan further. She quickly said, “Three shoes per human. Yes! Mutt, we’re going to need even more nails.”
Mutt shook even harder. He had found four nails so far.
“Wait, everyone,” Stick Dog said, and shook his head. He had to put an end to this as quickly as he could. The humans inside the gazebo were all eating now. As the dogs continued to propose and discuss their plans, Stick Dog had been keeping an eye on the happenings. He decided not to mention that they couldn’t hammer three feet to the floor per human because, you know, humans only have two feet each. He tried a different approach. “We can’t hammer nails into the humans’ feet. They’ll scream in pain. They’ll kick at us. It will never work.”
“Oh, Stick Dog, Stick Dog,” Karen said, and shook her head. “You don’t quite understand. We’re not nailing their feet to the floor. We’re nailing their shoes to the floor. Big difference.”
“Two more nails!” Mutt exclaimed after a couple more fell out from his right shoulder.
“Excellent, Mutt!” said Stripes.
“Keep ’em coming!” Poo-Poo said.
“Wait, wait,” Stick Dog said with greater urgency. “The humans’ feet will be inside the shoes. When you hammer the nail, it will stab and pierce their feet.”
Everybody stopped moving for a minute. They realized Stick Dog made an excellent point.
Karen wanted to save her plan. After several seconds, she had an idea.
“What if we aim the nail between their toes? That would make my plan work.”
Stick Dog said, “I doubt if we can be that precise. You can’t really tell where their toes are when their shoes are on.”
“What if we take their shoes off and examine the size and position of the toes?” asked Karen. “Then we could shift them around a little to create a nice big gap between their toes. Then we slip the shoe back on and—SMASH!—hammer the nail into the exact right spot!”
Stick Dog just stared at her then. He didn’t know what to say.
For six seconds.
Then Stick Dog thought of something.
“Well, that might work,” he said. “And I really admire your ability to amend your plan to fit the circumstances. Making adjustments like that is difficult.”
“I’m very adjust-y,” Karen said.
“Yes, you are very, umm, adjust-y,” offered Stick Dog. “But I think we have one more issue that will prevent us from using your excellent plan.”
“What is it?”
“We don’t have a hammer,” said Stick Dog. He did his best to sound disappointed.
Quickly, Karen snapped her head around to Mutt.
“Do you have a hammer?!”
Stick Dog really hoped he didn’t.
Mutt shook his head.
“Bummer,” Karen said. Her tail drooped down to the ground. “My plan was so, so, so close to working too.”
“You’re right, it was,” Stick Dog encouraged. “But being really close is way better than being really far away.”
“It is?” asked Karen.
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” answered Stick Dog. “Would you rather be close to some pizza or far away?”
“Close.”
“Hamburger. Close or far away?”
“Close.”
“Ice cream. Close or far away?”
“Close!”
You could tell Karen was starting to feel better. Her tail was off the ground—and beginning to wag.
Stick Dog asked his final question.
“What about your tail?” he asked, and smiled. “When you’re chasing it, would you rather be close or far away?”
“Close!”
Then Karen started chasing her tail with absolute glee.
She didn’t catch it.
Mutt started putting the nails back into his fur, but Stripes stopped him.
“Not so fast, Mutt,” she said. “I’m going to need those for my plan too.”
Stick Dog squinted one eye curiously and asked, “What’s your strategy?”
“It’s simple, really,” Stripes said. “Karen’s plan spurred my plan. It really got me started.”
“Glad . . . I . . . c-could . . . help,” Karen panted as she turned rapid circles to catch her tail.
She hadn’t caught it yet.
“What is it?” asked Stick Dog. He really wanted to keep this moving.
“Well, you know how Karen wanted to hammer nails into those humans’ shoes, but it didn’t work out?” Stripes asked.
“I remember,” Stick Dog answered. “It was just a minute ago.”
“Right,” Stripes said. “Well, since hammering those shoes in place won’t work, I think we should hammer their shirts in place. Instead of hammering their shoes into the floor under the table, we hammer their shirts right into the table. They can’t move that way either!”
Stick Dog couldn’t help but stare. He smiled encouragingly the best he could. It took him nearly a full minute to think of a response, but eventually he did.
“It’s a fantastic twist to an already brilliant idea,” said Stick Dog.
“Thank you. Thank you very much,” Stripes said.
“And adding something to an original idea is often the hardest part of anything,” Stick Dog said. “It truly is.”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t like Stripes was questioning Stick Dog. It was more like she wanted to appreciate better his compliment to her.
“Adding something to improve on something else can make all the difference,” he explained. “Does adding pepperoni to a plain cheese pizza make it better?”
“Yes.”
“Does adding red sauce to spaghetti noodles make them better?”
“Yes!”
“What about adding meatballs?”
“Yes!”
“What about adding beautiful black spots to a white dog?”
“Yes! Yes!! YES!!”
“Now, you see what I mean,” Stick Dog said. “By adding to an already terrific plan, you’ve really improved it.”
“I certainly have!”
“There’s still one small problem though,” said Stick Dog.
“What’s that?”
“We still don’t have a hammer.”
“We don’t?”
“Umm, no.”
Stripes jerked her head toward Mutt. She asked, “Do you have a hammer?”
He shook his head.
Stripes turned back to Stick Dog and said, “I thought maybe he had found one since Karen’s plan.”
“Since a few minutes ago?” asked Stick Dog.
“That’s right,” Stripes said. She seemed suddenly sad.
Stick Dog was about to lift her spirits when a loud announcement came blaring out from the gazebo. It grabbed their attention.
And in just a couple of minutes, they would see something they’d never seen before.
Something beautiful.
Something scary.