Читать книгу Stick Dog Chases a Pizza - Tom Watson - Страница 7

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.”

“Let’s give it a try. Run out a little bit, Karen. We’ll see if this thing flies,” Stick Dog said, and picked up the cardboard disc in his mouth. He bent his neck back and sideways, preparing to snap it forward, open his mouth, release the cardboard circle, and watch it fly.

Only here’s the thing: He didn’t. He kept that flat cardboard circle in his mouth. He remained in that paused, ready-to-throw position. Something peculiar was happening. Karen came running back. And Poo-Poo, Mutt, and Stripes all gathered around Stick Dog.

“What is it, Stick Dog?” asked Mutt.

“Are you hurt?” asked Stripes.

Thankfully, Stick Dog wasn’t hurt. But he was surprised about something.

Very surprised.