Stick Dog Dreams of Ice Cream by Tom Watson Page A

it is?” Karen said as she plopped down.
    â€œDon’t remind us,” sighed Stripes.
    â€œWhere have you been?” Poo-Poo called from beneath the oak tree.
    â€œNowhere,” Karen answered. She panted and added, “It’s so hot!”
    â€œI 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 gray sock and was working on the toe area.

    â€œLook,” 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.’”
    â€œYeah,” 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.

    â€œListen, Stripes and Poo-Poo. Do me a quick favor, 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. Okay?”
    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.
    â€œOne, two . . . ,” Stick Dog said, and then paused. He waited. Poo-Poo and Stripes were ready to move from the oak tree’sshade 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.”
    â€œYou don’t?” asked Stripes.
    Stick Dog shook his head.
    â€œWhy not?” Poo-Poo asked.
    â€œJust changed my mind is all,” said Stick Dog. He winked at Karen and turned to Stripes and Poo-Poo. “Can I ask you both a question?”

    They nodded.
    â€œWhere 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.”
    â€œYes!!” Karen exclaimed, and began hopping up and down. “I knew Stick Dog could prove it! I knew he could! You two just went ‘nowhere’!”

    â€œWait a minute, wait a minute,” Stripes began to complain.
    â€œThat’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 gray 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.
    â€œWell, what do you think?” Stripes called again.
    â€œI 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 gray sock.

Chapter 3
POO-POO IS QUITE SPECIAL
    Halfway through the forest, Poo-Poo skidded to a halt. He snapped his head left and