Stick Dog was cautious and practical in all things. He had to be to keep this gang of strays safe—and fed. He had learned the value of good, smart, secure planning—and carefully executed action.
But he exercised no caution now.
Poo-Poo, Mutt, Stripes, and Karen had never seen Stick Dog run so fast. He hurdled over fallen limbs and branches in the forest. He thrust and pushed through brush they normally went around. He took the fastest, straightest path toward that house at the forest’s edge.
The others did their best to keep up, but even Stripes—usually the fastest of the five dogs—couldn’t do it. Stick Dog was out of sight in just a couple of minutes.
While they hustled after him, Mutt, Poo-Poo, and Stripes attempted to get more information from Karen.
“What’s going . . . on?” Stripes shouted and panted as they ran. “What did . . . you see?”
Karen churned her little dachshund legs as fast as she could. Despite her efforts, she was slowly losing ground to the others. And she was definitely far behind—and way out of earshot—of Stick Dog.
“Some humans . . . were . . . hurting . . . a dog,” Karen called ahead to Stripes as best she could. She was panting even more than the others.
“How?” Mutt asked from ahead.
“They were . . . hitting . . . it,” Karen answered.
Anger and dismay came to all their faces as they ran. They could barely believe what they heard. And they began to run—and pant—even harder.
Poo-Poo called back, “What . . . were . . . they . . . hitting it . . . with?”
“A . . . stick,” Karen called forward. She had fallen even further behind.
“Who . . . was . . . doing it?” Stripes yelled.
“Little . . . humans,” Karen called meekly back. She was almost completely out of breath now.
Mutt asked a final question. They were almost to the edge of the woods now—almost to that house. It would only be a minute or two more. They knew that Stick Dog, in fact, was probably already there.
Mutt asked, “Where . . . was . . . the . . . dog?”
Karen took the deepest breath she could. She called, “In . . . a . . . tree.”