Stick Dog Slurps Spaghetti

Dedicated to Michael (65 ROSES)

Stick Dog was on his belly inside his pipe. Karen, Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo all huddled closely to him. The dogs had stopped searching for food more than an hour ago. They retreated with empty stomachs to Stick Dog's pipe and positioned themselves side by side to generate extra warmth.

Karen, the dachshund, asked, “How long has it been?”

“How long has it been since what, Karen?” Stick Dog asked.

“How long has it been since we had some food?”

Stick Dog thought about it for a minute. He cast his eyes up to the gray metal ridges on the ceiling of his pipe. “It was last night. Remember? We found a bag of Cheez Doodles behind the mall.”

“Ergh!” Poo-Poo snarled low and hard at the memory. “I wouldn't even call those things food, Stick Dog. They were more air than anything. You take a bite, and that orange, puffy caterpillar thing just evaporates.”

“I agree,” Stripes chimed in. “Let's not call Cheez Doodles food. Things that are more air than flavor shouldn't count.”

Can I ask you something?

Wait. You remember that I can interrupt now and then, right? Yeah, it's part of our deal. I get to mention little things that
bug me or interest me. It's usually just something from the story that gets me thinking. So here's what I'm thinking about right now.

What the heck are Cheez Doodles anyway?

You know what I'm talking about, right?

Those things that are puffy, curly, and really bright orange?

How do they make those things?

I think maybe it's like popcorn. The corn kernel starts out tiny but then blows up to make light, fluffy popcorn.

Maybe they take a little piece of cheese, blow it up with nuclear energy or
something, and—
Shazam!
—Cheez Doodle.

It would be awesome to work in a Cheez Doodle factory and blow up cheese every day. Plus I'd get to work with nuclear energy.

And I bet I'd get free Cheez Doodles.

Imagine that. Free Cheez Doodles. All day.

I even like saying “Cheez Doodle.”

Cheez Doodle. Cheez Doodle. Cheez Doodle.

I can eat a million of those things. You know why? Stripes is right—they are more air than food.

“Okay, then,” said Stick Dog. “If Cheez Doodles aren't food, then I suppose the last time we ate was yesterday morning. We found those hamburger buns at Picasso Park under that picnic table.”

Karen, Stripes, and Poo-Poo all nodded in agreement.

Mutt, however, did not. He stood up and walked a few steps away and turned his head from the others.

“Mutt?” Stick Dog asked. “What is it? It looks like something is troubling you.”

Mutt turned his head to face Stick Dog. Then he lowered his chin and stared down at the floor of the pipe. “It's just—” he began. But he stopped himself.

Stick Dog smiled. Mutt was the largest of them all. He tended to lumber when he ran. He shook Stick Dog's pipe when he plopped down to relax. He had a deep voice and a slow, friendly way of speaking. Stick Dog suspected he was about to see another example of Mutt's sensitive side.

Stick Dog tried again. “Just what, Mutt?”

This was the final nudge of encouragement Mutt needed. He answered, “It's just that I ate something else yesterday—that you guys didn't.”

“WHAT?!” Poo-Poo yelled.

“You didn't share!?” yelped Stripes.

“Mutt, oh, Mutt,” Karen said. She sighed and shook her head slowly back and forth.

Stick Dog held up a paw as quickly as he could to quiet the others. He thought there was probably more explanation to come. “It's okay, Mutt,” he said. “What was it? What did you eat?”

“Some rope,” Mutt said, and finally turned to his friends before hanging his head again. “I found it behind the hardware store on Highway 16.”

“You're the only one of us who eats rope, Mutt,” Stick Dog said, and smiled. “We wouldn't have wanted any.”

“You guys don't eat rope?” Mutt asked.

They all shook their heads.

“Boy, you don't know what you're missing,” Mutt said. He felt better already. “Well, I'm still sorry I ate it. I wanted to bring it back so we could play tug-of-war.”

“Tug-of-war! I love tug-of-war!” Karen exclaimed immediately. “It gives me a chance to show off my mighty dachshund power! Do you still have it? Can we play now? Can we?!”