Stick Dog Chases a Pizza. Tom Watson
Frisbee! FRISBEE!!”
“Excellent idea,” said Stick Dog. “Let’s play Frisbee. And what are we going to need to do that?”
The other four dogs just looked at Stick Dog with blank expressions.
“What are we going to need?” he repeated.
Suddenly Mutt spoke up. “I know what we need! Our mouths! To catch the Frisbee with!”
“Well, that’s true enough,” said Stick Dog. “We definitely need our mouths. But I was thinking of something else. What is it that we catch with our mouths?”
This time Poo-Poo answered really fast. He was so certain of the answer that he wanted to beat everyone in saying it. “I got it! Our tongues,” he said quickly and proudly. And as if to prove his point, Poo-Poo opened his mouth and let his tongue drop out and began wagging it around. He snapped his mouth shut on it a couple of times by accident. You could tell it hurt, but he tried to not let it show.
Stick Dog didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess you do sort of need your tongue a little to play Frisbee.”
“See, see, see? I told you!” Poo-Poo said. His tongue flapped up and down and slapped his own face as he nodded with tremendous enthusiasm and vigour. “It’s not easy being right all the time, let me tell you.”
“Mm-hmm. I’m sure that’s true,” replied Stick Dog. “Now, who can tell me the most important thing we need to play Frisbee? Besides our mouths and tongues, I mean.”
Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes all turned their heads towards Stick Dog. Nobody said anything at all.
Stick Dog answered his own question. “We need a Frisbee.”
As soon as he said it, his four friends all started nodding their heads up and down like crazy.
“Didn’t I say that?” asked Mutt. “I’m pretty sure I did.”
“It’s so obvious,” said Poo-Poo, “that I didn’t think it was worth saying.”
“I was going to say that,” added Karen, “but Poo-Poo interrupted me.”
Stripes said, “I was about to answer that exact thing. But the sun got in my eyes.”
Stick Dog looked up at the sky. It was getting near dusk. The sun would be setting soon. He glanced at Stripes and shook his head. “Why would the sun getting …” he began to ask, but then stopped himself. He didn’t finish his question. “Well, I figured you all knew the answer. Let’s find a Frisbee.”
“That’s easy,” said Stripes. “You and Mutt were playing with one just a couple of days ago, Stick Dog. Don’t you remember? It’s orange. We found it by the basketball courts at Picasso Park. It’s probably in the pipe by your sleeping cushion. I’ll go get it.”
“I don’t think so,” said Stick Dog.
“Why not?” asked Mutt.
“Think back,” said Stick Dog, “to when you and I were playing Frisbee, Mutt. Do you remember what happened to it?”
“Oh, Stick Dog,” said Mutt. “I can’t remember that far back.”
“But it was just the day before yesterday,” said Stick Dog.
“That’s what I mean,” Mutt said. “That’s a couple of weeks in human years.”
This, frankly, caught Stick Dog by surprise. He asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, dogs typically live about one-seventh as long as humans. So one dog day equals seven human days. The day before yesterday was two days ago to us – that equals fourteen human days. I can’t remember that long ago,” Mutt explained. “I always measure time that way. It’s easier.”
Stick Dog shook his head for a second and then asked, “It’s easier for you to take a period of time, multiply it by seven, then pretend and think like a human to understand that period of time?”
“Yes, yes indeed,” answered Mutt matter-of-factly. “And that is why I obviously cannot remember what happened the day before yesterday. It’s the equivalent of fourteen human days. That’s quite a way back.”
“No, it’s not a way back at all,” said Stick Dog. He scrunched up his face and tried to understand what Mutt was saying. “It was the day before yesterday.”
Mutt began to talk very slowly, hoping it would help Stick Dog understand. “It only … seems … like the day … before yesterday. It was really … two weeks ago.”
“But that’s only if you’re measuring things in human-to-dog time,” said Stick Dog.
Mutt nodded his head. “That’s correct. I’m glad you finally understand.” He was pretty sure talking slowly had really helped.
“But you’re not a human,” sighed Stick Dog. “You’re a dog.”
“Exactly.”
Stick Dog stood there in front of Mutt for a minute. He shook his head a final time and turned to Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Karen. “Do any of you understand this?” he asked.
“We weren’t listening,” they all answered in unison. To explain further, Karen added, “There was a really cool-looking beetle on the ground over here. It had a red stripe running down its back. We were checking it out. According to Stripes, it doesn’t taste very good though.”
Stripes coughed a little bit.
Stick Dog turned back to Mutt. “Well, I remember what happened to the Frisbee the day before yesterday.”
Mutt shook his head a little. “You mean two weeks ago. Do you want me to explain it again?”
“No, please don’t,” Stick Dog whispered. “Do you want to know what happened to it?”
“Yes, yes! What happened to it?” asked Mutt, now greatly anticipating the answer. He liked playing Frisbee just as much as Karen and was looking forward to it. “Where is it? I’ll go get it!”
“You ate it,” said Stick Dog flatly.
Mutt turned his head and lifted it just a little. Then his eyes opened much wider, and you could tell he now remembered eating the orange Frisbee. “That’s right. I did eat it.”
“You ate it?!” Poo-Poo, Stripes, and Karen asked all at one time.
Mutt looked down at the ground and pawed at the dirt a little. “I was hungry,” he explained quietly.
Now, to you and me, being hungry is no excuse to eat a hard rubber Frisbee. But to all the dogs – even Stick Dog – this made perfectly good sense, and that was the end of this part of the conversation. Unfortunately, while that was the end of this part of the conversation, it did not solve the problem of playing Frisbee when they didn’t have a Frisbee.
You all know what a Frisbee is, right? What with all these newfangled toys, gadgets, and who-zee-bangers, maybe you don’t. Maybe we’re too busy with our jet packs that fly us across the neighbourhood and our particle-accelerator, atom-busting playthings to know what a Frisbee is.