Tom Watson - Stick Dog Chases a Pizza

If you do, good for you. You follow instructions well, and you practise excellent oral hygiene. And there are only about seven of you in the entire world.

If you don’t, join the club that consists of all the rest of us. Our club has nearly seven billion members. I mean, who wants to spend five minutes running a piece of waxy string between your teeth? Doesn’t it make you feel like a fish caught on a hook? That’s what I always think of. Now, brush often and don’t eat twelve Reese’s Cups for breakfast, I get that. But floss every day? Come on, I’ve got a life to lead, Cha-Cha.

Body hygiene, now that’s a different story. I believe in being very clean and sweet smelling all the time. I live by one hard-and-fast rule: I shower once a month whether I need it or not.

So the dogs didn’t follow Stick Dog’s instructions even though they’d agreed to do so. They simply tore after him to Picasso Park to look for a Frisbee. When they got there, Stick Dog turned around and asked, “Why are you all following me? We were supposed to run in different directions.”

“I didn’t hear you say that,” said Stripes, looking away.

“I swerved a lot,” said Poo-Poo. “So I went in a lot of directions but just ended up in the same place.”

Mutt didn’t say anything. But he did plop down on the ground and start scratching behind his left ear with his right rear leg. He kept almost tipping over and then catching himself at the last minute.

Karen said, “I actually ran in the exact opposite direction. Yeah, that’s what I did. I circled the planet on the exact opposite path and – shazam! – here I am.”

Stick Dog dropped his chin and raised his eyes towards Karen. “You’re really, really fast.”

“Yes, it’s true,” was all Karen said.

“Well, we’re all here now,” said Stick Dog. “Let’s find a Frisbee to play with. And this time, let’s actually go in different directions to look. Meet back here in a few minutes.”

This time they did follow Stick Dog’s directions.

And this time they did find a Frisbee.

Sort of.

So, yeah, the dogs ran all over the place to search for a Frisbee, and in no time, they were back. Stick Dog began to quiz the others and survey the results.

“I didn’t have any luck,” said Stick Dog. “How about you guys?”

“I found one!” exclaimed Poo-Poo. “It’s rubbery and it’s a circle and everything.”

“That,” said Stick Dog, looking at what Poo-Poo had, “is a bicycle tyre. It’s too big and flimsy and hollow in the middle. It won’t glide in the air at all.”

“Oh.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I chewed it off that metal thing over there,” answered Poo-Poo as he pointed. “See that thing with the wheels and the handlebars and the cushy seat? I chewed it off that.”

“That’s a bicycle,” sighed Stick Dog.

Poo-Poo looked at Stick Dog with a confused expression. “If it’s a bicycle, why is that girl pushing it instead of riding it?”

Stick Dog closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them and answered, “It’s missing a tyre, Poo-Poo.”

Poo-Poo looked over at the girl struggling to push her one-tyred bike home from the park. “Jeez, that’s too bad.”

Stick Dog turned to Stripes. “Did you find a Frisbee, Stripes?”

“Yes, I did,” mumbled Stripes.

“Great job. Where is it?”

Stripes began to look all around herself on the ground. She looked around her front paws, her back paws, and underneath her belly. “I know I have it here somewhere,” she mumbled again.

Stick Dog said, “You’re talking funny. Is there something in your mouth?”

Stripes’s eyes popped open as if she just remembered something. She nodded. “It’s the Frisbee!” she said, nearly inaudibly.

Stick Dog decided not to ask how an entire Frisbee could fit inside her mouth and simply said, “Let’s see it.”

Stripes lowered her head, opened her mouth, and sort of flung something towards Stick Dog. It clanked a bit when it hit the ground and then rolled up against Stick Dog’s front left paw.

Stick Dog looked down at it but didn’t look back up. “That’s a bottle top,” he whispered.

Everyone was quiet and still for a moment. They didn’t want to hurt Stripes’s feelings, but it turned out her feelings weren’t actually hurt that much at all.

“It may look like a bottle top to you, Stick Dog,” said Stripes defiantly. “But to a mouse, that so-called ‘bottle top’ would make an excellent Frisbee. So if you really think about it, I did, in fact, find a Frisbee. You have to admit I’m right from a certain perspective.”

“You mean from a mouse’s perspective?”

“That’s right.”

Stick Dog stared at Stripes for a single second and then sighed, “Okay, Stripes. You’re right from a certain perspective.”

“Next time, please try to be more specific in your request,” Stripes added.

“I’ll do that,” said Stick Dog, trying not to roll his eyes. He then turned to Mutt. “Mutt, did you find anything?”

“Boy, did I! I was hoping you’d ask me next,” said Mutt. He then did a most unusual thing. He spread out his legs, took a deep breath, and shook. There was a clunking, jingling, noisy racket as things fell out of Mutt’s fur all about him. “I found a candy bar wrapper, an old pencil stub, a tennis ball that got hit and torn up by a lawn mower, a couple of good rocks, and a piece of rope, and that’s not even the best of it.”

“Is the best of it a Frisbee?” asked Stick Dog.

“It’s an old grey sock!” Mutt exclaimed. “I love these things! I’m going to keep it forever! I mean, you know, until I swallow it.”

“But we were supposed to be looking for a Frisbee,” said Stick Dog.

“Oh,” Mutt replied, but he truly didn’t seem to care. He was very, very excited about the dirty old sock. “I didn’t find one of those.”

At last, Stick Dog turned to Karen.

“I think I found just the thing,” she said before Stick Dog could even ask. She dropped a flat cardboard circle in front of him.

“It’s not exactly a Frisbee,” said Stick Dog. He paced around the circle on the ground, cocking his head a little bit and examining it. “But it is about the right size and shape. It just might work for a little Frisbee tossing. Good job, Karen.”

“Thanks,” said Karen proudly. “I really am quite excellent now that I come to think about it.”