Stick Dog Wants a Hot Dog Read Online Free PDF

raccoon is getting closer to the frankfurter cart.”
    Stick Dog could instantly see that Mutt was correct. He had been so busy listening to his friends’ plans that Stick Dog had neglected to keep a watchful eye on the raccoon. It was no longer in the maple tree four houses away from the cart. It was now in a pine tree three houses away.

    The others saw it, as well.
    Poo-Poo couldn’t stand it. “Errgh!” he snarled, and began pacing. “It’s getting closer. It’s going to get there first! What are we going to do, Stick Dog?”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Stick Dog said. “But we do need to hurry.”
    â€œWe need to do something else too,” added Karen.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Stripes asked, and tilted her head.
    â€œWe need to give the raccoon a name,” she said simply.
    â€œA name?”
    â€œOh, yeah,” said Karen as if this was a perfectly logical thing to do. “If we’re going to have a nemesis who is trying to snatch what is rightfully ours, it needs to have a name—an evil name.”
    Stick Dog could hardly believe what he was hearing. They had to hurry. He knew that raccoons were quite capable of finding and retrieving food. He’d seen enough toppled trash cans and ripped-open garbage bags to know that. He also knew that raccoons had powerful, sharp claws. He’d seen plenty of tracks in the woods and outside his pipe below Highway 16. He did not want to mess with a raccoon—and he certainly didn’t want one to get the frankfurters before they did.

    But instead of hustling along with their plan, they were going to waste precious time naming the raccoon. He was just about to put a stop to this nonsense when Mutt spoke up.
    â€œI have a problem with this whole naming business,” said Mutt.
    Stick Dog exhaled a little to himself. Finally, someone else saw how silly this was.
    â€œWhat is it, Mutt?”
    â€œWell, we don’t know if our new raccoon enemy is a boy or a girl,” he explained. “That’s going to make it difficult to come up with a name.”
    Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes nodded in complete understanding. Stick Dog just stood there getting hungrier. He was trying not to let his frustration show.
    Karen, who had come up with the whole naming idea, took charge of the conversation. “Look, let’s just throw out some name suggestions for the evil raccoon and see what works best,” she said. “Remember the whole boy-girl problem as you make your suggestions. Try to stay away from names that are too girl- or boy-specific.”
    This seemed to make good sense to the others. Even Stick Dog agreed, but solely because he wanted to move the give-the-raccoon-food-snatcher-a-name process along as fast as possible.
    The suggestions came at a furious pace from all of them except Stick Dog.
    â€œDespicaBeast!”
    â€œMasked Mobster!”
    â€œRacc-a-Doom!”
    â€œDevil-Meister!”
    â€œThe Raccoon Typhoon!”
    While Stick Dog listened to these and other suggestions, his stomach became impatient. It grumbled loudly. It was as if his body was telling him to put an end to all this naming business.
    â€œOkay, guys,” he interjected in a firm but friendly voice. “Those are all great suggestions. But we better get moving here. The next name is the winner.”
    You would think that would make them all blurt out a choice quickly. But the opposite was actually true. There was a slight hesitation as they each considered and tried to come up with something really good. But it was Mutt who spoke up first. And it was Mutt who chose the name of their new raccoon nemesis.
    It was Mutt who said, “Phyllis!”

    â€œPhyllis it is,” Stick Dog said instantly, before anyone could object. He nodded toward the house with the drying laundry in the yard. “This way, as fast as we can!”
    As if to add a greater sense of urgency and a spirit of teamwork,