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thought, one of their toughest food-snatching missions ever.
    They would deal with many, many humans. The truck itself was large and intimidating. And it was moving.
    Stick Dog knew that lots of humans and big, moving vehicles do not make it very easy to grab something to eat. But he also knew something else: he had never tasted anything as sweet and delicious as the small puddles left behind from those ice cream drippings. Not only were they delicious, they were also cold and wet—the perfect combination on this mega-hot day.
    He knew it was worth the risk.
    After the truck made its third stop—and the third bunch of colored puddles was licked dry—Mutt, Poo-Poo, Karen, andStripes prepared to race after it again. They stretched their legs and gathered their energy. But Stick Dog stopped them.
    â€œThis isn’t working,” he said simply.
    â€œWhat do you mean, Stick Dog?” asked Karen with surprise. “We’re tasting some amazing flavors. And we’ve got it down to a pretty good routine. It seems safe and everything.”
    Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo wagged their tails in agreement.

    â€œWe’re getting some great flavors here, that’s true,” Stick Dog responded. “But the reward isn’t worth the effort. I’m getting tired of all this chasing, and at the end, all we get are a few good laps at a few small puddles. We’re just getting the tiny drippings from that ice cream. We need more than that. It’s delicious—some of the best flavors I’ve ever tasted, to be honest. But ultimately not very satisfying.”
    At this, the others all came to the immediate understanding that Stick Dog was right.
    â€œWhat are we going to do, Stick Dog?” asked Karen.
    â€œWe actually need to grab some of that ice cream from the truck,” he answered.
    â€œBut how?” Mutt asked.
    â€œLet’s think about it a minute,” said Stick Dog as he led them into the shade of a big oak tree by the side of the road. There were a few smaller trees, bushes, and mailboxes around them, and it was a fairly secure place to decide their plan of action. “We’ve chased and observed this ice cream truck for a while now. What have we learned so far?”
    Karen spoke up first. “I like the light-brown flavor the best! That’s what I’ve learned.”

    At that, Stripes, Mutt, and Poo-Poo all declared their favorite colors too.
    â€œOkay. Umm, that’s good to know,” Stick Dog said. “But what have we learned about the whole process? About the pattern of things? About the truck and where it goes and what the driver and the other humans do? What have we learned that will help us get some ice cream?”
    Poo-Poo, Stripes, Karen, and Mutt all thought about this for a moment. They tried their best to help Stick Dog.
    Mutt said, “I have some information that might be useful, Stick Dog.”
    â€œOkay, let’s hear it.”
    â€œIt’s really hot out today,” Mutt said with satisfaction in his voice.

    â€œOkay, Mutt,” Stick Dog said slowly. He panted a little to cool off a bit. “Good observation. I’ll remember that. Now what about something that could really help us get some ice cream from that truck? Let’s try to be specific.”
    Karen then said, “Stick Dog, I have something important to say.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    â€œI’ve changed my mind,” she said. “I think I like the yellow color the best. Instead of the light brown.”

    â€œOkay, Karen,” said Stick Dog. He knew that the ice cream truck was getting farther and farther away—even though it was moving quite slowly. “I’ll make a note of that.”
    Poo-Poo seemed to take this all very seriously. “I have an observation that could help,” he said, and pointed to where the truck had been. “The truck is no longer there.”
    Stick Dog looked at the spot where Poo-Poo