My ears alert me to something awry. My sweet dreams of grassy fields and tasty treats have been interrupted by unknown sounds. Iâ€™m used to the occasional rumble of a car out on the road, but this was very different. This sound came from inside my home.
I drop down to the floor, the jingling of my tags and the patter of my paws the only noises for now. Whatever it was has stopped, but still my curiosity has gotten the better of me. After a sniff of the air, I exit the room and proceed to investigate.
My eyes take a while to adjust to the darkness as I navigate from room to room, searching for the source. Then I catch the scent of something new. An awkward smell, then itâ€™s joined by food- an assortment of food at that. Like thereâ€™s a festival going on and no one bothered to tell us about it.
I enter the kitchen, the smell now filling my senses, only to discover a catastrophe has taken place. Food and garbage are everywhere! A shadow moves and dives for an open window. I bark furiously at the invader, angry that the trespasser has destroyed my lovely home.
Iâ€™m still barking furiously when the lights flicker on. The old man stands there, his own eyes squinting in the blinding light. I proceed to tell him about the invader, but his expression is grim as he observes the scene for himself. Please, you gotta believe meâ€¦
The old man wasnâ€™t too happy with the situation. He blamed me for destroying the kitchen. But I guess I canâ€™t blame him. The culprit got away clean as a whistle, leaving me holding the consequences. That just wonâ€™t fly- not in my home.
So here I am, waiting for trouble to arrive. The day flew by, and the old man had softened up by afternoon. He brought some new foods earlier, but I could tell he was still a little upset with me. My usual treats were forgotten, and even the affection was neglected.
The sound of leaves rustling pulls my attention to the open window. It stays open to let the fallâ€™s cool air in. While it might be good for the atmosphere, I am sure that it is an irresistible entrance for any thief- a guilty thief that not only took our food, but took my pride as well.
Iâ€™m up in a flash, and move to hide in the shadows near the window. I want to catch the vermin once heâ€™s done the deed, so that I can clear the good name of Rocky. Then I see them, the little pawsâ€¦or are they hands? The critter pulls itself up and through the open window. After the thief approves of the area, it slumps to the floor and waddles to the cooler. I manage to wedge my nose behind the edge of the window and swing it closed, blocking any escape.
â€œI have you now!â€ I pounce without mercy. Well, maybe just a little bit of mercy. After all, Iâ€™m a nice pup. The thief screeches in alarm and pins itself against the wall and stands up on its hind legs just like a man. Then I realize that the culprit isnâ€™t much bigger than me. I can handle this situation with ease. â€œI have you now, thief!â€ I bark furiously, calling for the old man to see.
The lights flash on, just like I had planned. A raccoon stands, very afraid, in the corner. â€œItâ€™s just a baby raccoon!â€ the old man says drowsily.
I tilt my head in wonder. I study the critter and agree. Itâ€™s too tiny to be grown up. â€œWhereâ€™s your mama?â€ I ask the thief. â€œYouâ€™re in trouble now.â€
â€œMama!â€ the raccoon squeaks, its eyes lighting up.
â€œIâ€™ll call Christy, sheâ€™ll know what to do with you,â€ the old man said timidly as he picked up his noise box. He always speaks at it, but I still canâ€™t figure out why. It doesnâ€™t do any tricks like I can.
Iâ€™ve still got the critter pinned to the wall when our neighbor, Christy, arrives. She has her own crate, ready to capture the villain. It takes a bit of skill and a little luck, not to mention a handful of sweets, but she gets the baby raccoon in the cage. She talks to the old man for a few minutes while I sniff the area to make sure everything is secure. I give one last bark at thief as they leave.
â€œSee, it wasnâ€™t me!â€ I tell the old man. A relieved expression proves his agreement. Then he offers a few words of approval- and a long neck rub as he carries me back to bed. That feels so good!
Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.Â Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a â€œdogâ€™s eye viewâ€ and share in their thoughts.Â Please enjoy, and we hope that youâ€™ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dogâ€™s very own Rocky Adventures.