Stick Dog Slurps Spaghetti by Tom Watson Page B

rope?”
    â€œYou want me to dive under the Dumpster?”
    â€œIf you don’t mind,” replied Stick Dog. “I think you’re the only one of us who can fit comfortably under there.”
    â€œHumph!” Karen said, and exhaled loudly. “Are you saying I’m short?! Is that what you’re implying?”

    Stick Dog paused a few seconds before answering. He appeared to be carefully contemplating his response.
    â€œNot at all,” he said. “I’m saying you’re perfectly proportioned for this task.”
    â€œPerfectly proportioned?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œPerfectly?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œPerfect?”
    â€œCorrect.”

    Karen smiled and dove toward the edge of the Dumpster. She squished and squiggled herself past the bottom edge, squirming andsquashing herself with great determination and conviction. Once past the edge there was plenty of room underneath the Dumpster. Karen was more comfortable and able to stand up.

    Stick Dog, Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo stood at the edge of the Dumpster waiting for Karen’s report.
    â€œAnything?” Stick Dog called after a minute.
    â€œYou were right, Stick Dog,” Karen called back. “I really am just the right size for a job like this. None of you giant behemoths could fit under here.”
    Stick Dog grinned a bit. “That’s certainly true.”
    â€œI mean, I was just looking at myself under here,” Karen said proudly. “My length and my shape are quite unique. I can explore strange new places—like under this Dumpster. I can boldly go where no dog has gone before. I can fit where no other dog can fit. I’m truly an amazing canine specimen.”
    â€œYou certainly are right about that,” confirmed Stick Dog.
    â€œImagine—just imagine—if one of you humong-a-saurs tried to get under here,” Karen said, and giggled. She seemed to be visualizing just such a thing. “It would be ridiculous. I’d have to pry you guys out with a crowbar.”

    Stick Dog said, “I suppose you would.”
    â€œWhat was the word you used?” Karen asked from beneath the Dumpster.
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œWhen you wanted me to come under here. When you were describing me?”
    â€œâ€˜Proportioned’?”
    â€œNo. Something else.”
    â€œâ€˜Perfectly’?”
    â€œThat’s it!” Karen yelped. “Perfect! Yessiree! I like that word, all right.”
    â€œI do too,” Stick Dog said, and smiled—hecouldn’t help himself. He loved how quickly Karen’s mood had changed.
    â€œStick Dog?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œWhy am I under here again?”
    Stick Dog shook his head ever so slightly. “You’re looking for a piece of rope. Remember?”
    â€œWe all want to play tug-of-war,” Poo-Poo said, trying to help.
    â€œI ate the last rope,” called Mutt to refresh her memory.
    â€œOh, right. Rope,” Karen said. You couldtell she was turning her head all around to search for rope now that she remembered. She kept bumping the top of her head against the bottom of the Dumpster.
    Stripes wanted to know how Karen’s search was going. “Anything?” she called.

    â€œNo. Nothing. Just an old Styrofoam container. I’ll push it out.”
    â€œShoot.” Mutt sighed. “I really wanted to find some rope to play with. And you know, I wanted to eat it when we were done playing.”
    â€œYou would eat some more rope?” Stripes asked.
    â€œSure,” Mutt answered immediately. “It provides great chewing satisfaction—and it tastes pretty good too.”
    Karen used her nose to nudge the Styrofoam container all the way out from beneath the Dumpster. She squeezed out right after it.

    â€œNo rope. Just this thing,” she said, and bumped her nose on the box’s lid to point at it. When she did, it popped open. It happened so