Read Online Stick Dog Dreams of Ice Cream by Tom Watson - Free Book Online Page B

the road. It was louder than even the annoying music.
    It was a sound every stray dog feared. And it was a sound that a stray dog who had just snuck into an ice cream truck, snatched several cartons of ice cream, and thrown them out the window to his friends fearedmore than anything in the world.
    It was a police siren.

    Stick Dog ducked back into the truck and jumped down to the floor. As he did so, he knocked over the box that he had climbed on.
    He knew about police cars. They were fast and loud, with flashing red lights. Bighumans in blue uniforms were inside them. They were called policemen. They had loud, booming voices. Most important, Stick Dog knew that policemen who drove around in the loud cars with flashing lights did not like stray dogs.

    He and his friends had been chased away from garbage cans, Picasso Park, and theback of the mall a few times by these giant humans in blue uniforms.
    For the first time in a long time, Stick Dog was scared.
    He was caught in this enclosed space. There was no way out. Stick Dog knew he couldn’t hop out the window now. The policeman was too close. He had been stealing food from the ice cream truck. The evidence was behind him down the street. And he had nowhere to go.
    The ice cream truck slowed to a stop, and the music stopped playing. Stick Dog could hear the police car stop behind the ice cream truck, spitting gravel across the pavement. He heard a door slam and the heavy footsteps of a policeman approachingthe vehicle. He was coming to speak to the driver.
    Stick Dog knew what that policeman would say. He would say, “You have an ice cream thief in the back of your truck. I’ve seen ice cream cartons scattered down the street for the last half mile. I’m going to catch whoever is back there and take him away forever.”
    That’s what the policeman was going to say.
    Stick Dog listened as the policeman made his way with thundering steps to the driver’s-side window. It was, indeed, a booming voice. Stick Dog could hear it easily through the open screen window even though it was on the opposite side ofthe truck. And he could hear the driver’s softer voice as well.
    â€œYes, officer?” the ice cream truck driver said. “Was I doing something wrong? I certainly wasn’t speeding.”
    â€œI have to tell you something,” the policeman said in his deep voice.
    â€œYes? What’s that?”
    Stick Dog squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what was coming. For that instant before the policeman answered, Stick Dog thought of Poo-Poo, Stripes, Karen, and Mutt. In his mind, he could see them enjoying all that ice cream he had thrown out just minutes ago. It made him feel good to know that all hisefforts had paid off for them in such a big, tasty way.
    â€œI have to tell you,” the policeman continued, “on a day as hot as this, I could really go for a chocolate cone.”

    Stick Dog couldn’t believe his ears. He was not caught snatching the ice cream. The others either hid it fast or the policeman had just turned from a side street or something. He felt a tremendous sense of relief.
    But only for a single second.
    That’s because a single second later the driver said, “I totally understand, officer. I’ll make you one right away.”
    Stick Dog felt the truck move a bit as the driver got out. And he heard his door slam shut. He was coming around to open the back door to climb in and make the policeman an ice cream treat. In seconds, the back door would open, and the first thing the driver would see would be Stick Dog.
    There wasn’t even enough time to push the box back and scramble up to the open window. He would be trapped by the driver. And the policeman was right there to help him.
    The door handle turned. The door itself cracked open, allowing a sliver of bright sunlight to enter the back of the truck. The door swung halfway open, flooding the truck with light and illuminating Stick Dog right