transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:08] Hello, friends, and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Wolf is a corgi who knows he is cute. He knows exactly what to do in order to get what he wants from his owner. On Saturdays, he gets to go to the park to see his friends. And this Saturday, something exciting is going to happen. The Corgi Who Saved the Hot Dogs. Wolf knew exactly how cute he was. He had done the research. A slightly exaggerated waddle, not too much, just enough, followed by a little dance and then the zoomies, which he would have done anyway because zoomies were simply necessary. Every single time, his owner reached for the bag of bacon-liver snacks. They were shaped like tiny bones, which Wolf found mysterious but didn't question. They smelled like something a human would make a face at, and they were absolutely, completely, without any doubt, the best thing in the world. Life was good. On Saturdays, life was even better, because Saturdays meant the park, and the park meant Boogie. Boogie was a Rottweiler, which meant he was approximately the size of a small couch. He looked like the kind of dog that guarded castles in stories. He was actually the kind of dog that sat on your feet and sighed happily, until you pet him. His name was Boogie. That told you everything. This Saturday, Boogie was already at the park when Wolf arrived. So was a barbecue. Wolf had identified hot dogs, something with onions, and a strong possibility of hamburgers from three blocks away. By the time his owner un-clipped his leash, he was already waddling forward with great purpose. The park was full. Families had set up blankets and folding chairs around the big grill near the oak tree. Kids were running. Someone had a frisbee. And there, in the middle of everything, sitting like a very large and extremely relaxed statue, was Boogie. Wolf zoomed over. Boogie's tail went thump, thump, thump against the grass. You're late, Boogie said, which wasn't really true, but Boogie said it every time. There were other dogs, too. A tall, skinny, gray hound named Pepper, who could outrun almost anything. And a golden retriever called Biscuit, who was extremely friendly and not very bright. And who was currently chasing the frisbee in the wrong direction. Wolf liked his friends. He just wished sometimes that he had longer legs. The hot dog smelled so good. He sat down next to Boogie and waited for something good to happen. It happened fast. A kid bumped the folding table next to the grill. Just a small bump, really. Barely anything. But the tray of hot dogs slid sideways, tipped, and the package disappeared through a gap in the old wooden fence at the edge of the park. The gap was narrow and low to the ground, the kind of gap that happens when a fence gets old and one board pulls away from the bottom. Everyone froze, then everyone moved at once. Pepper got there first, being Pepper, but she took one look at the gap and sat back. Too narrow, even for her. Biscuit arrived next, already excited and tried anyway. He got his nose in and that was about it. Boogie didn't even attempt it. He looked at the gap, looked at his own enormous paws, and made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Two adults got down on their knees and peered through. One tried reaching with his arm. Not far enough. The hot dogs were right there, just on the other side, sitting in the grass. Not lost, just completely, totally unreachable. Wolf pushed through to the front and looked at the gap. It was exactly his size. He didn't do the waddle. He didn't do the dance. There was no time for that. And also, this felt like a different kind of moment. Wolf took three steps back, lowered himself flat to the ground, the way he did when he was being very serious, and went. It wasn't exactly the Zoomies, but it was close. Low and fast and straight through the gap, like he'd done it a hundred times. Which, in fairness, he basically had. Just never for anything this important. The wood scraped lightly along his back, and then he was through, blinking in the sudden quiet on the other side of the fence. The hot dogs were right there. He picked up the package very carefully. He had a good mouth, everyone said so, and turned himself around. Going back through was slightly harder with the package, but he managed, emerging back into the park with his ears flat and his tail going and the hot dogs completely intact. There was a moment of silence. Then Boogie made the grown sigh sound again, but different this time, happier. Biscuit barked at the frisbee, which had nothing to do with anything, but that was biscuit. Everyone got a hot dog. Wolf got a hot dog too, which was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he had eaten a bacon liver snack off the floor of a moving car once. So that was saying something. His owner gave him two bacon liver snacks afterward, without any waddling or dancing or zoomies required. Just two snacks straight out of the bag for being Wolf. Boogie put one giant paw on Wolf's back, the way he did when he was being affectionate, which was most of the time. Good gap, Boogie said. Thanks, said Wolf. He still couldn't keep up with Boogie at full speed. His legs were still approximately the length of a pencil. None of that had changed. But somewhere in the park, there was a gap in the fence that was exactly his size, and he knew where it was. And that felt like enough. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.