It took less than twelve seconds for the dogs to cross that backyard. And there was absolutely no hesitation when they got there. Stick Dog propped himself up to the table, reached for the bag of tacos, and pulled it down. He dumped all the tacos onto the patio.
There were nine tacos. Each one was wrapped tightly in aluminum foil.
Mutt, Karen, Stripes, and Poo-Poo stood in a circle around the tacos. They stared down at them. They drooled over them. It looked like they could barely believe this was actually happening.
Stick Dog smiled and said, “Each of you eat one for now. When you unwrap them, try not to tear that shiny silver cover too much.”
“Aren’t you going to have a taco, Stick Dog?” asked Mutt.
“I am, hopefully,” he answered. “I need to check on the humans first.”
And that’s just what Stick Dog did.
As his friends unwrapped and devoured their tacos, Stick Dog hurried off toward the side yard again. He edged his muzzle inch by inch around the corner of the house until he could see the humans.
They didn’t spot him at all. Their backs were to him—and they stared up into that tree where the birdie was still stuck. The large male human poked the umbrella way up into the tree. Stick Dog could tell that this time they would reach the birdie—and get it down.
Stick Dog hustled back.
Each of his friends was about halfway done eating their first taco. They didn’t need to worry about tipping the taco sideways like the dad earlier. Any taco contents that fell out, they just ate off the patio anyway. No big deal.
Stick Dog asked, “Mutt, do you mind if I retrieve some of those pinecones I put in your fur?”
Mutt swallowed politely before answering. He didn’t want to be rude and answer while he was chewing. He also didn’t want to let a single morsel of that taco goodness fall from his mouth.
“Help yourself, Stick Dog,” Mutt replied. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Stick Dog said, and started to pull pinecones from Mutt’s shaggy fur.
While Poo-Poo, Karen, Mutt, and Stripes finished their tacos, Stick Dog did something entirely different.
He took the four pieces of loose aluminum foil and wrapped up a pinecone with each piece. He then unwrapped the five remaining tacos and did the same thing with them, leaving the tacos themselves on the patio for the time being.
As fast as he could, Stick Dog placed the nine aluminum-foil-wrapped pinecones in the taco bag and lifted it back up to the picnic table. Right when he did, he heard all four members of the human family yell happily from the side yard.
“They got the birdie down,” Stick Dog whispered to himself. He yanked his head over his shoulder and said to his friends, “Grab a second taco each. Take it to the woods! Now!”
They did exactly as he instructed. Stick Dog himself took his first taco in his mouth and raced after his friends.
They reached the safety of the woods just as the dad turned the corner of the house with the umbrella under his arm.