Inside the store, there were two long glass cases where the vast variety of meats were displayed. Those two cases were connected by a counter with a cash register straight ahead. There was a door in the back of the store near where Mike, the meat man was. As Scott headed toward the counter, Stick Dog turned left as quietly as he could.
He crouched low behind the long glass case. He propped himself up just high enough to see the humans in the store. He could hear them too.
“Scott, good to see you,” Mike the meat man said as he turned around and put his metal cleaver down. “Is it a barbecue weekend?”
“Yes, it is, Mike,” Scott said, smiling and looking around.
Stick Dog ducked down. As he did, he saw—and smelled—what was in the glass case he hid behind. There were platters of big hamburger patties, huge piles of sausages, and a bunch of the longest hot dogs he’d ever seen.
He listened to the conversation between the two humans.
“Well, what will it be? I just cut some rib eye steaks,” Mike the meat man asked, walking over to the other glass case. He pointed at the steaks from behind the case while Scott eyeballed them from the front. “They’re good for grilling.”
“Sounds great, but I think I’ll go with the basics this time,” Scott answered after thinking about it for a moment. “Alex likes hamburgers and Josh likes hot dogs. Do you have any foot-long hot dogs?”
Stick Dog opened his eyes wide.
Hamburgers and hot dogs? That’s right where he was. Scott would walk over and look through the glass and probably see him. Mike the meat man would walk around from the back and definitely see him.
He was stuck.
For the first time in a long time, Stick Dog didn’t know what to do.
Then something hit him in the head.