Kitabı oku: «Stick Dog Dreams of Ice Cream»
Copyright
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2015
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Copyright © 2015 by Tom Watson
Cover art © Ethan Long
Cover design by Tom Starace
Illustrations by Ethan Long based on original sketches by Tom Watson
Tom Watson and Ethan Long assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007581252
Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007581269
Version: 2015-05-06
Dedicated to Carol, Donna, Susie, Richard,
Jim, and Tom
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1: Escape from the Heat
Chapter 2: Going Nowhere
Chapter 3: Poo-Poo Is Quite Special
Chapter 4: Running around in Underwear
Chapter 5: A Water Machine Attacks
Chapter 6: It’s Totally Annoying
Chapter 7: What’s Weird about It?
Chapter 8: Rainbow Puddles
Chapter 9: Drips Are Drippy
Chapter 10: Dance Party
Chapter 11: Poo-Poo Figures It Out
Chapter 12: Woggy!
Chapter 13: Karen Tackles Stick Dog
About the Author
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
ESCAPE FROM THE HEAT
It was really, really hot.
Stick Dog, Stripes, and Poo-Poo looked forward to some brief relief from the heat.
And Mutt was just back from the creek to provide it.
He was sopping wet. He didn’t say anything at all but simply sidled up close to the others. They all knew the routine. This was, after all, Mutt’s fourth trip to the creek in the past hour. Stick Dog, Stripes, and Poo-Poo stood at the ready.
And then Mutt began to shake. He started slowly at first, spraying the others with big droplets of water from his shaggy fur. But then his shaking sped up, until he trembled and vibrated so hard the dry dirt around his paws puffed up in little brown clouds. With this vigorous shaking, Mutt was able to spray his companions not with big droplets of creek water but with a fine, cooling mist.
The other three sighed as they felt the wet, cool relief.
“That feels wonderful,” whispered Stripes when Mutt finally stopped shaking.
“I never get tired of that smell,” Poo-Poo said.
Stick Dog enjoyed the temporary respite. He needed a little break from the dry, hot day as much as anyone. “Thank you again, Mutt. That really does feel great,” he said. “Come on, you guys. Let’s help him retrieve some of this stuff. That’s the least we can do.”
Immediately, Poo-Poo and Stripes helped Stick Dog gather all the things that had come flying out of Mutt’s fur with the water. They picked up a crushed Ping-Pong ball, a blue marker, two bottle caps, and an old grey sock. They returned them all to Mutt, who tucked everything back into his fur except the old grey sock. He took that to the shade of a beech tree and began to chew on it.
Poo-Poo and Stripes shared some shade under an old oak tree. And Stick Dog settled beneath a leafy maple. Unlike Mutt’s shaking, the shade provided little help. They all heated up again quickly.
“Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo said. “We have got to do something about this heat.”
“There’s not much we can do,” Stick Dog answered. He seemed to be conserving his energy as he spoke. He didn’t even turn to address Poo-Poo. “My pipe is even warmer than out here. The air doesn’t circulate in there. We’re not going to find better shade anywhere. I guess we could go down to the creek and get another drink of water. That always helps a little.”
“I’m sick of drinking creek water,” Stripes said. She sounded frustrated. “It’s too sandy and gritty. And on a day like this, it’s not even cold.”
“Let’s go look for some new water,” suggested Mutt. “Maybe we can find a better place to get it.”
Stick Dog considered this. “A new water source, hmm? Cleaner, colder. I think it’s a good idea.”
“You do?” said Mutt. “Really?!”
Stick Dog nodded. “Let’s just wait for Karen to get here and then we’ll go look.”
“Did you hear that, you guys?” Mutt asked Poo-Poo and Stripes. There was genuine excitement in his voice. “Stick Dog thinks we should go find a new place to get water. It was my idea! Did you hear me suggest that?”
Poo-Poo nodded his head, and Stripes closed her eyes.
“Another great idea by yours truly,” Mutt whispered to himself as he shifted around a little in the shade. “Old Mutt comes through again.”
Stick Dog took pleasure in seeing Mutt act this way. And he took even greater pleasure when a random summer breeze whooshed through the woods for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and waited for Karen.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Chapter 2
GOING NOWHERE
Karen soon came through the woods and entered the small clearing at Stick Dog’s pipe. She joined him beneath the maple tree.
“Can you believe how hot it is?” Karen said as she plopped down.
“Don’t remind us,” sighed Stripes.
“Where have you been?” Poo-Poo called from beneath the oak tree.
“Nowhere,” Karen answered. She panted and added, “It’s so hot!”
“I said, ‘Don’t remind us,’” Stripes complained. She seemed really agitated. “And you can’t be ‘nowhere.’ That’s impossible.”
Poo-Poo nodded in agreement.
Mutt ignored the entire conversation. He had now chewed through the heel of the old grey sock and was working on the toe area.
“Look,” Stripes said to Karen. “You don’t have to tell us where you’ve been. It’s your business. But you have to agree that you can’t go ‘nowhere.’”
“Yeah,” Poo-Poo said. “You have to admit that.”
Karen’s chin rested on the ground. She didn’t respond, but she did shift her eyes to look at Stick Dog next to her. It was almost as if her eyes were saying, “I really want to prove these two wrong, but I don’t know how. Can you help me?”
Stick Dog got the message. And he thought it was just too hot for this back-and-forth conversation. On a nicer, cooler day, it would be fine – maybe even amusing. But not today. Not in this heat.
“Listen, Stripes and Poo-Poo. Do me a quick favour, will you?” Stick Dog asked. He stood and stretched his legs. He knew they would leave soon. “On the count of three, will you two go and climb into my pipe? It’s not a race or anything. I just want you to get into my pipe for a second. OK?”
It was an odd request, but neither Poo-Poo nor Stripes saw any harm in doing so. They nodded to indicate they would do it.
“One, two …,” Stick Dog said, and then paused. He waited. Poo-Poo and Stripes were ready to move from the oak tree’s shade to Stick Dog’s pipe, but they held still, waiting for the signal. Then Stick Dog said, “Forget it. I don’t want you guys to go to my pipe after all.”
“You don’t?” asked Stripes.
Stick Dog shook his head.
“Why not?” Poo-Poo asked.
“Just changed my mind,” said Stick Dog. He winked at Karen and turned to Stripes and Poo-Poo. “Can I ask you both a question?”
They nodded.
“Where did you guys go?”
Stripes looked at Poo-Poo. Poo-Poo looked at Stripes. They both looked at Stick Dog, shrugged their shoulders, and answered together, “Nowhere.”
“Yes!!” Karen exclaimed, and began hopping up and down. “I knew Stick Dog could prove it! I knew he could! You two just went ‘nowhere’!”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Stripes began to complain.
“That’s not right. That’s like word magic or something,” Poo-Poo said, and shook his head. “That’s what it is: word magic.”
Stripes turned to Mutt, hoping that he could help them. She called over, “Mutt, what do you think about all this?”
Mutt lifted his head. The other dogs were too far away to see it, but grey and white threads hung from the corner of his mouth. He seemed to take the question very seriously. He tilted his head a bit to the left as if pondering something that concerned him quite deeply.
“Well, what do you think?” Stripes called again.
“I think,” Mutt said, “that was the best darn sock I’ve ever eaten.”
Stick Dog smiled and said to them all, “Come on. Let’s go find some nice, cold water.”
Karen followed Stick Dog with light, happy, and energetic steps.
Poo-Poo and Stripes followed as well – glad to end the conversation.
And Mutt came along too. He was eager to find something to help wash down the final threads of that old grey sock.
Chapter 3
POO-POO IS QUITE SPECIAL
Halfway through the forest, Poo-Poo skidded to a halt. He snapped his head left and right, up and down. He sniffed continuously as he jerked his head all around. The other dogs had all slowed and stopped to watch this display.
“What is it, Poo-Poo?” asked Mutt. “Do you smell something?”
“Oh, I smell something, all right,” Poo-Poo declared. He inched closer to a large oak tree. “I just can’t put my paw on it. But it smells familiar.”
“Is it hamburgers?” asked Karen with real hope in her voice.
“Or frankfurters?” asked Stripes.
“Maybe pizza?” Mutt asked.
Poo-Poo answered all three questions by shaking his head. “Up in the tree,” he whispered as he stepped quietly toward the big oak’s trunk. “Squirrel.”
This is what Stick Dog was afraid of. He knew that Poo-Poo could stalk a squirrel for hours. And it was too hot – way too hot – to be delayed by this.
Poo-Poo circled the tree a few times, stopped, and peered up through the leaves and branches. He took a couple of short, quick sniffs. “There’s a fuzzy-tailed, acorn-munching chatter-mouth up there, all right,” Poo-Poo whispered. “If I could see him, I’d get him.”
“Can’t you see him, Poo-Poo?” Karen asked.
He shook his head but kept peering up into the top branches.
“Then how do you know there’s a squirrel up there?” asked Stripes.
“Are you kidding me?!” Poo-Poo exclaimed, taking real offence. “I can smell a barbecue potato chip three miles away. I can smell a smoking grill in the next county. I can distinguish whether a tortilla chip in a rubbish bin on the other side of Picasso Park is nacho cheese flavour or cool ranch flavour. You think I can’t sniff out a nasty, nutty-breathed tail-shaker?!”
“OK, OK,” said Stripes.
Mutt didn’t pay much attention at all. He was twisting his tongue around inside his mouth trying to get the sock strings dislodged from between his teeth.
Sorry. I just need to interrupt the story here for a minute – because this thing that’s happening to Mutt drives me crazy too.
You probably remember from the previous stories that I need to make little comments here and there sometimes. I can’t help myself. And, umm, you’re not going to hassle me about it, right?
Thanks.
Anyway, I can’t stand that feeling of having something stuck in my teeth.
Worst food for getting stuck in your teeth? Celery.
I love celery. It’s crunchy and tastes pretty good for, you know, a vegetable. Dip it in a little peanut butter, and you almost forget that you’re eating something healthy and green.
But it’s the worst for getting stuck between your teeth. It’s kind of stringy to begin with, and those strands have a special way of getting stubbornly stuck. And here’s the worst part: they’re a little bit slimy because the spit in your mouth combines with the moisture in the celery, and that makes the stringy parts impossible to grab. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve shoved my whole hand in my mouth trying to get a celery strand out. I get a good grip and then – SLIP – I can’t get it.
It’s super annoying.
So I can totally relate to what Mutt’s trying to do here with the strings from that old grey sock. While he did his best to get those strings out, Poo-Poo continued to circle the tree trunk as he stalked the squirrel. Karen and Stripes had found some shade several steps away, where they settled in to observe the whole affair.
“That sneaky, snivelling villain,” Poo-Poo muttered to himself when he stopped once to glare up into the tree for a moment. “If I could just get my paws on him, then I—”
“Poo-Poo?”
It was Stick Dog.
Poo-Poo jerked around for a moment, surprised out of his squirrel-stalking trance. He snapped his head toward Stick Dog and then yanked it back around to stare up into the tree again. “Yes, Stick Dog?”
“I don’t mean to interrupt you here,” Stick Dog began. “And if I’m ruining your concentration or something, just tell me and I’ll stop bothering you.”
“It’s no problem. I can do more than one thing at a time. I can circle the tree while we talk,” Poo-Poo said confidently. He proceeded to pace again. In just a couple of steps, he stubbed his front right paw on a tree root, stumbled, and rammed his shoulder into the tree trunk, knocking off a big chunk of brown-and-black bark. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Well, I was just thinking about what you said a couple of minutes ago,” Stick Dog commented. “About how you can smell things from really far away? Like the flavour of a tortilla chip across the park or a grill from a long way away?”
“Mm-hmm, that’s right,” Poo-Poo said. He nodded his head at Stick Dog, and this seemed to throw him off balance again. He hit his head against the tree. Poo-Poo rubbed it, smiled, and before continuing to circle, whispered to himself, “Just like old times.”
Stick Dog allowed Poo-Poo to regain his footing before he asked, “But can you smell water?”
Poo-Poo stopped. The timing of the question came just when he was on the opposite side of the trunk from Stick Dog. He didn’t move his body but did stretch his neck out and around the tree to look directly at Stick Dog. “I can smell anything, anywhere, anytime,” he said with absolute confidence. And then, with increased emphasis, he added, “I’m Poo-Poo.”
Stick Dog pressed his lips together and nodded his head in full understanding. He then came closer to the tree. By this time, the heat had made Stripes and Karen feel drowsy. They were both lying in the shade with their eyes closed. Mutt did the same, but every now and then you could see his tongue press his cheek out as he probed around to get the sock strings out from his teeth. None of them were close enough to hear Poo-Poo and Stick Dog.
“I don’t want to embarrass the others,” Stick Dog whispered, and nodded toward Stripes, Karen, and Mutt. “But I think you might be the only one here who can smell water. And I’m not sure the four of us can find any cold water without your refined and ultra-sensitive sniffing capabilities.”
Poo-Poo nodded and whispered back, “I see. Yes. I am quite special.”
Stick Dog nodded and continued in the same hushed tone. “Without your help, we might be in danger. It’s awfully hot. And we’re all awfully thirsty.”
Poo-Poo nodded again in understanding. “You guys might not stand a chance without me.”
“That’s right. It’s all up to you,” Stick Dog whispered. “You can stay here and try to get the squirrel. Or you can come with your friends, who are in desperate need, and help us find something to drink.”
Immediately, Poo-Poo cleared his throat. When he did, Stick Dog backed away, and the other dogs all opened their eyes.
“I have an announcement,” Poo-Poo declared loudly. “Despite the fact that my arch-nemesis resides somewhere in the branches above me, I have decided to leave this place. I’m quite certain that it would only be a few minutes before I figured out a way to coral this tail-twitching nuisance. But those are minutes I choose to forfeit so I can use my expert sniffing abilities to deliver my friends from thirst and anguish.”
Poo-Poo lifted his head and took a great and authoritative snort. He turned in several directions, sniffing and pondering. Finally, he pointed with his nose and said, “There is water this way! Follow me, my dry-mouthed comrades!” Poo-Poo then ran off into the forest.
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