Stick Dog heard the truck’s mechanical arm whir to life. The worker concentrated on the joystick device that controlled the truck’s arm. Stick Dog didn’t think the man could see Karen from the angle of his descent. Stick Dog estimated he had a little more than one minute to get Karen back before the man reached the ground. That wasn’t much time.
“Karen!” he called quietly. Stick Dog was concealed safely behind some old, fallen branches, but he couldn’t risk calling too loudly. “Karen! Get back here!”
“Where is she, Stick Dog?” Mutt asked. He, Poo-Poo, and Stripes now peered through the tree branches and foliage too.
“She’s right there,” Stick Dog said, and pointed with his nose. “She’s got her head in that big Styrofoam cup.”
“How do you know that’s her?” asked Poo-Poo in a whisper.
Stick Dog hesitated for a split second before answering. “It’s her tail and her body sticking out of the cup. Don’t you see?”
Poo-Poo answered, “I see all that, yes. But it’s really the head that makes a dog, don’t you think? And we can’t see that thing’s head. It might not be Karen at all.”
Stick Dog couldn’t believe what he heard.
“Yes, Stick Dog. It could be anybody,” Stripes chimed in.
The man was fifty-seven seconds away.
“Maybe it’s Phyllis, the raccoon,” Mutt suggested. He always tried to help in this kind of way.
Stick Dog decided instantly not to partake in any further discussion with Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes. Instead he called out sharply again, “Karen! Karen! The big man’s coming back!”
Karen’s body didn’t move in any way to indicate she heard Stick Dog. In fact, it seemed that she pushed her head even farther into the cup.
The man was forty-six seconds away.
Meanwhile, the conversation among Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo continued.
“I don’t think it’s Phyllis, Mutt,” said Poo-Poo. “Raccoons have striped, puffy tails. And that tail sticking out of the cup isn’t puffy at all. That tail is more like a giraffe’s, I think. Maybe there’s a giraffe in the cup.”
“Good point,” Mutt conceded.
“Karen!!” Stick Dog called again.
The man was thirty-seven seconds away.
“Maybe it’s a raccoon who had its tail groomed,” suggested Stripes.
“Hey, you know what?” Poo-Poo said suddenly. It seemed as if a new idea had popped into his mind. “You know whose tail that does look like?”
“Whose?” Mutt and Stripes asked in unison.
The man was twenty-eight seconds away from descending all the way down to the ground—and climbing out of the basket. And Karen couldn’t even see him coming.
Stick Dog understood the problem. Karen had burrowed her head so deep into that large Styrofoam cup that her ears were inside. She couldn’t hear him.
In the meantime, Poo-Poo answered Stripes and Mutt. He exclaimed, “That tail looks like Karen’s! I wonder if that might be her.”
“Hmm, I never thought of that,” said Mutt.
“It’s possible, I guess,” said Stripes. She didn’t sound completely convinced yet.
The man was nineteen seconds away.
“Hey, Stick Dog!” Poo-Poo said, and twisted around to face him. “I think it might be Karen in that cup. Hey, where’s Stick Dog?”
But Stick Dog didn’t hear Poo-Poo at all. He had already leaped from the forest’s edge and raced toward Karen. When he reached the truck, he placed his front paws on the back bumper. He bit down softly on the loose skin at the back of Karen’s neck—she hadn’t, thank goodness, pushed any farther into the cup.
“I found him,” Poo-Poo said slowly as he stared out of the woods. He couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. He couldn’t understand why Stick Dog had Karen in his mouth.
Neither could the others apparently.
“Why is he eating Karen?” Mutt asked. “I mean, if it’s even her.”
“He’s been hungry before,” Stripes added. “But never so hungry that he ate one of us. At least, as far as I can remember. I’m almost certain he’s never eaten me.”
“Although, I must say, Karen does look rather delicious, if you think about it,” said Poo-Poo as he watched Stick Dog struggle to return as quickly as he could with Karen in his mouth. The truck’s arm was almost all the way down now. And its whirring motor slowed and made less noise. “Remember that time she imitated a frankfurter? I have to admit, she was a pretty good-looking frankfurter.”
By this time, of course, Stick Dog was nearly back to them. When he made it into the woods with the others, he set Karen down on the ground and slowly unclenched his grip on the nape of her neck.
Because the large cup was still on her head, they couldn’t really tell if she even noticed being set down at all. In fact, the only motion she made was to push her head farther into the cup again.
The big man was out of the basket and standing at the back of the truck now. The motor was completely shut down. Stick Dog had made it back into the forest cover just in time.
He stood there panting to catch his breath. Karen was small—all dachshunds are—but Stick Dog was surprised at just how heavy she actually was. It had not been easy to sprint back to safety with her in his mouth. As he tried to catch his breath, Karen shoved her head deeper into the cup. Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes stepped closer to him.
“Stick Dog,” Mutt said.
Stick Dog nodded toward him. He was panting too hard to answer. But he smiled at Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo as they approached. He knew they were about to congratulate him. Rescuing Karen had not been easy, after all.
“We have something to say to you,” Mutt began. He seemed to be speaking for the other two.
“I don’t know how to say this,” Mutt continued, then paused in a sort of awkward and uncomfortable way. He inhaled deeply and said, “Poo-Poo, Stripes, and I really don’t think you should eat Karen.”
Stick Dog stared at Mutt.
Now that Mutt had broached the subject, Poo-Poo and Stripes joined in.
“It’s really not very polite, Stick Dog,” Stripes said. “I mean, I know you’re hungry and everything. We all are. But chewing on Karen like that just doesn’t seem right.”
Stick Dog started to get his breath back a bit.
Poo-Poo asked, “You know that she isn’t a frankfurter, right? She’s not. She’s a dog. A dog, Stick Dog. Not a frankfurter.”
“I wasn’t,” Stick Dog panted, “eating her. I was rescuing her. That big guy came down from the top of the pole. And she couldn’t hear him or see him because her head is stuffed inside that cup.”
“Why did you stuff her head into the cup, Stick Dog?” Mutt asked sincerely. “Were you trying to hide her in there or what?”
“I didn’t stuff her . . . ,” Stick Dog began, but he was interrupted by Poo-Poo.
“I bet I know why,” he said. His face had turned suddenly stern. His jaw was clenched tight, and he squinted his eyes slightly. “You tried to drink her first, didn’t you, Stick Dog? You stuffed poor, little, helpless Karen into that cup to drink her. And when that didn’t work out, you decided to eat her instead.”
“That’s terrible!” exclaimed Stripes.
Mutt shook his head sadly. “You should know better, Stick Dog.”
By now, Stick Dog had caught his breath fully. And while you may think he would be mad that his friends had accused him of trying to eat (or drink) Karen, the opposite was actually true. He found it all sort of amusing. And now that Karen was safely back with them, he felt relief more than anything.
“You guys,” said Stick Dog. “I wasn’t trying to eat—or drink—Karen. She was about to be seen by that huge human. She couldn’t hear me because her head is in the cup. I had to pick her up and bring her back.”
“You were chewing on her, Stick Dog,” said Poo-Poo. “We all saw it.”
“That was the only way I could pick her up without hurting her. Look, I’ll show you.”
Stick Dog reached down and gently pulled the Styrofoam cup off Karen’s head. It was stubbornly stuck for a few seconds, but then popped off easily.
“See, no bite marks or anything,” Stick Dog said, and pointed. “I was very gentle.”
Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo examined Karen’s neck while she licked furiously at the rim of the cup. There were a few brown drops of liquid there.
After a few seconds, Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Mutt apologized to Stick Dog. It turned out, they now realized, that he wasn’t trying to eat (or drink) Karen after all. With that determined, their attention shifted quickly to her.
She was acting strangely.
“What do you want, Stick Dog?” Karen asked as she continued to lap at the rim of the cup. She didn’t lift her head at all to speak, and her words came out faster than usual. “I heard you calling.”
“You did?” Stick Dog was obviously surprised.
“Sure thing! Totally.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I couldn’t. I just couldn’t! I had to finish drinking this brown liquid! Had to!” Karen exclaimed. She then gripped the cup’s rim in her mouth. She tilted her head back in an attempt to get the very last drops from the bottom. When she finally shook the last drop out onto her tongue, Karen dropped the cup to the ground.
“You’re talking funny,” Stick Dog said to Karen. Then he looked at the cup that had now rolled to a stop. He read the words on the side out loud, “Dizzy’s Big GULP Coffee.”
“Coffee? That’s what it’s called?” Karen asked urgently. “I’m going to remember that. Coffee, coffee, coffee!”
Stick Dog asked, “How full was that cup when you took your first drink?”
“Almost totally full. Almost totally. Real high. To the top. Not anymore though! It’s empty. I drank every drop. I couldn’t stop!” Karen said, and giggled.
“I see,” said Stick Dog slowly.
“I see. You see. We all see. For coffee,” Karen sang, and giggled again. “I just made that up. It rhymes and everything. Just made it up. Right here. Right now!”
“You seem kind of hyper or something,” Stick Dog said.
While Stick Dog was extremely curious about Karen’s hyperactivity and the strange new way she talked, the other dogs had lost interest. Their thoughts returned to far more urgent matters.
“We really do need to get some more of those donuts, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said. He licked a few crumbs from his lips and whiskers. “That thing was fantastic!”
“Stick Dog?”
“Yes, Karen?”
“I’m going to chase my tail now,” she said. “I just really need to move. Like right now. Fast.”
“Umm, okay. Go ahead,” Stick Dog said.
Karen immediately began chasing her tail with tremendous energy and glee. She spun clockwise for about half a minute. Then she stopped and panted for a few seconds. Instantly, she began chasing her tail counterclockwise just as fast. This process continued while Stick Dog and the others talked.
“I agree with Poo-Poo,” Mutt said. “We should fetch some more of those donuts. Those things are scrumptious.”
Stick Dog nodded and repeated, “I like the idea. But it will be tough getting past this guy.”
He stopped to peer out at the man, hoping that maybe he had climbed into the basket to go to the top of the pole again.
He hadn’t—but he was doing a most unusual thing. He searched all around on the ground and in the back of his truck and muttered to himself, “Coffee . . . coffee. Where did I put my coffee?”
At hearing this, Karen abruptly stopped spinning.
“Did someone say ‘coffee’?!” she asked. “Let’s get some. I’m in. Let’s do it! Like right now.”
“You really liked that coffee, didn’t you, Karen?” asked Stripes.
“Liked it? I LOVED it! Coffee, coffee, coffee!!” Karen squealed. “Stick Dog?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to run into the woods and back again, okay?”
“Umm,” Stick Dog began to respond. But he didn’t say anything else. Karen was already gone.
Stick Dog would have watched Karen—her behavior really was quite peculiar—but Stripes grabbed his attention.
She said, “Stick Dog, the man’s leaving.”
He was indeed. The man had picked up a wrench and climbed back into the mechanical arm’s basket. Stick Dog heard him mutter to himself some more.
“Gotta find my coffee,” he said before starting his ascent. “Must have left it up on the platform.”
Stick Dog knew the man would be back up in the air in a minute—and their path would be clear. It was like a miracle. They had discovered this delicious new food source and the human was leaving it—again. As soon as the man reached the top of the pole, they could sneak across the road and grab some more donuts. He knew there were plenty more in the box—he had seen them himself.
“Okay,” Stick Dog said to Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes. “As soon as Karen gets back, we’ll go.”
“I’m back!” Karen announced, and bumped into Mutt as she skidded and slid to a stop.
Stick Dog jumped back a little bit. He had not expected Karen to return so soon. But they were on a mission now—and their first task was to snatch some more donuts from the box. He would investigate Karen’s spazziness later.
“The coast is clear,” Stick Dog announced after looking in both directions down the road. The man was at the top of the pole and no vehicles were in sight. “Let’s go!”
He scampered out of the woods, and the others scrambled behind him. It took just fourteen seconds for Stick Dog to cross the street and reach the truck. He crouched down by its side. He was pretty certain the man on the pole could not see him there. He checked behind to make certain the others were with him.
They were.
Except for Karen.
