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The Adventures of Rocky

ROCKY ADVENTURE – Rocky the Puppy-Sitter

Apr 16, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

The doorbell rang again, so I could tell whoever or whatever was on the other side of it was getting quite weary about waiting. I was too, but the old man had yet to respond to my calls. I’ll just have to go get him, which I’ve had to constantly do ever since he started up with his tinker-table projects.

I crossed the couch room and popped into what used to be the old spare bedroom. Here, the old man was still engulfed in his toys and was entirely focused on playing, just like when I get a new chew bone. I called to him again, and this time finally got his attention.

He grunted as he got out of his chair and started towards the door, announcing that he was now coming. I rushed back to the door to double check on the situation. I sniffed around, catching a faint whiff of what smelled like a lady and another dog. It had to be a dog. I could smell the treats someone was carrying around in their pocket.

After I had been secured in my buddy’s arms, the old man opened the door and greeted the apparent guests. And just as I had suspected, it was a woman and her dog that looked almost like Izzy. She was all fluffy and had a little short tail too.

Before any formal introductions could be established, both the new dog and I were escorted out into the back yard. I was placed down on the patio, at which point I asked blatantly what the meaning of all this was, to which the old man simply replied by patting me on the head and telling me to be a good boy.

Wow, this whole situation was kind of thrown right at me unexpectedly. And it didn’t help that there was now a strange dog in my yard. I turned to study my “new playmate” with just enough time to see the oncoming tackle, which wasn’t graceful by any means. I pushed her off and set some distance between us just in case.

“Who are you?” I asked with authority.

Her head cocked from one side to the other, her floppy ears perking up halfway- one a little higher than the other. Then she just barked two woofs and a “yup” sound. So I asked again. I got a different answer this time. This is just great. I’m puppy-sitting. This young rascal hasn’t even learned to talk yet!

For her the conversation must’ve been over, as she moved on to more interesting things. One of which just so inconveniently happened to be the garden. Now, I know that dogs weren’t supposed to play there, and even Izzy and Buck know better. But how am I going to tell this puppy that?

I called to her, trying to get her to come back, but she dove right in. And wouldn’t you know it, but the old man had been watering the garden just this morning. Every dog enjoys a good dig on occasion, whether it’s checking for bugs or hiding some treasure, but digging in mud is explicitly irresistible to the younger types. And this pup was no exception.

At the edge of the carrot bed (I occasionally sneak out one when the old man isn’t looking) the mud started to fly. I did the only thing I could think of at the time- I tackled her. We both fell deeper into the mud, at which point it turned into a game for her. She bounced up and pushed me over with her paws, moving me deeper into the garden where the ground was soft and sticky. I stood back up, but my paws sunk all the way up to my belly. It was a struggle, but I managed to get out of the stickiness and back out into the grass, where I discovered that she was at it again. Now she was digging in a new spot, and the funny thing was that she didn’t even look like a puppy anymore. She looked more like a big glob of mud that was digging up even more mud and spraying it into the yard.

Hollers of surprise got my attention, and I turned to see the old man and the strange woman standing on the patio’s edge. His arms were crossed, and he had that very serious look on his face. Solemn expressions turned to shock as the puppy rushed over to them and slung mud all over the place.

Puppies, what a handful. It’s hard to imagine I was once a young and rascally nuisance too. So, I just shook off the mud and calmly told the old man the situation.

“I think we need a bath.”


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Bored with an Attitude

Apr 9, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Well, my cave was fun while it lasted, because now it has met with a most untimely end. First it was folded. Then it was crumpled and crushed. Finally, it found its way out the back door and right into the trash. It’s a shame really, since it was keeping me so interested and entertained. Now, I’m bored at the moment.

All those little pieces of wood ended up being assembled into a rather large table thingy, which would be cool if it had tunnels and toys that would provide a little entertainment. But it has none of that for me. For the old man, it’s a different story. The drawers open, and out pops a new toy for the old man. It’s the craziest thing. I just wish he would get something like that for me.

I do enjoy seeing the old man excited about his new table toy-making thing, but he isn’t paying very much attention to me anymore. He just sits and tinkers, while I fight my stuffed squirrel or watch the birds hop around in the yard. I’d chase them, but that gets a little old after a while.

The thing I really want is to play with the old man. Right now, he’s tinkering at his table, moving his tools around tediously with paws that don’t seem to be tiring anytime soon. He’s been at it since lunch time, and I’m pretty sure we missed our walk yesterday. I really don’t want to miss it today, so I’m going to have to get him back in the game.

My plan begins with a search through my toy box for something strategically intriguing. If I were the old man, what kind of toy would I like the best? Let’s see: there’s my squeaky carrot, but I don’t think he cares for that one much. I could try my ball, but it’s kind of iffy.

Ball in mouth, I trot over to the old man and drop it under his chair and check his expression for any signs of interest. Nothing. I paw his shoe, just to be sure, but there is still no response. I’ll have to try something else, something that he’ll definitely want to play with.

Back at my box, I dig through my assorted goodies. There’s a throwing dish that’s been chewed beyond flight, the good old little-ball-in-big-ball puzzle that I still haven’t figured out, a soccer ball, and my stuffed squirrel. I think the squirrel will get the old man going today. We always get a good game of tug going when I get this rascal out.

I bring the fiercest play toy back to the old man. There will be playtime now, there’s no doubt about it. I stare up at the old man whose attention has yet to waver from his tedious entertainment. I impatiently paw his leg, higher each time until I’m standing up against his knee. But he still doesn’t give me the attention I need. A bark of frustration is muffled by my stuffed squirrel, so to get my requests better heard, I drop my toy in his lap and bark again.

The old man jumps and his eyes finally train on me. At last, I have his attention. He picks up the squirrel and looks at it carefully. Then he tosses it across the room. Of course, I have to chase it, no matter how long or short the distance. It lands with a squeak behind the sofa, and I have it again, squeezing it until it squeaks again to announce my victory.

My triumph is short lived however. I return to the table and the old man, but he’s right back to playing with his own toys. That’s enough of this. I hop up in his lap and squeak the squirrel right in his face. That gets his attention quickly, but all he does is take the squirrel and nonchalantly toss it away again. I don’t chase it this time.

“Play with me!” I howl. He stares at me. I stare at him. And then he noses me and rolls his eyes. I can feel him getting up beneath me, so I’m sure we’re going to do something now for sure. He rustles through some stuff and finds his outside hat and my trusty leash. Great, we’re finally going to go do something together! It only took most of the day and a little Rocky-attitude, but I got the job done. What else would you expect from a great dog like me?

You ready, old man? Let’s go play.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.


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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Special Delivery for Rocky

Apr 2, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

I was out battling the wind and checking up on the yard when I heard the distinct doorbell sound, telling me that there was someone at the front door. The gust blew more dirt into my face, leading me to sneeze. It had been bad like this the past few days, and both I and the old man had a little nose trouble of sorts. But, he was much worse off than I was, constantly succumbing to blowing his nose.

I stepped through my little door as one last sneeze cleared me up. Now I could listen in on what was going on. I heard voices, two of them, from somewhere near the front door. I raced to protect my home from any unwanted invaders.

I leapt into the couch-room and released a mighty roar of authority from my high place on the old man’s chair. There were two unknown men here, accompanied by the old man who seemed not to care that our home had become overwhelmingly occupied by these people.

With another roar, I had their attention (okay, so they aren’t necessarily roars, but give a dog some credit). Both invaders turned their attention from the object they were carrying and gave me wide eyed stares. Now they would listen to me.

Or maybe not. The old man moved fast and had me in his puppy-hold (I have yet to escape this technique) and held his hand over my face, blocking my view. Though I couldn’t see them, I took careful note of the noises they made and the scent trail lingering in the air. But then I sneezed again.

After a fit of the nose itches, I was able to focus on the scene again, but by then the invaders had left (for their own good), and I was back on all fours, with permission to scout the area for further intrusion.

The first thing I noticed was this thing. A huge block left in the middle of the floor now filled up the majority of my runway. It had markings all over it, and was definitely not supposed to be here. I couldn’t move it though. It was huge, probably bigger than the old man. Maybe it’s a house to live in or something, but it had no doorways. It was certainly tall enough for me, and long enough for me to race around in if need be. The question remained though, how could I get in it?

The old man answered my question a few moments later. One side of the box opened up, revealing a block of wood. Cedar, as my nose knows best. But, that wasn’t the only thing to come out. By the time the old man had cleaned out the box, there was pile of wood scraps that a dog could play fetch with for a lifetime. I picked up one of the smaller pieces and offered it to the old man. He just took it away and told me it wasn’t my toy.

“So, where’s my stuff then?” I obstinately inquired, “Surely there’s something in here for me.”

After another sneezing fit, the old man gave me a sly look. With a slight push, the old man scooted me into the box, where I was surrounded by a new world. It was like being in a cave. I wandered down the way, the light growing dimmer as I explored.

Wow, my new toy was a cave and the old man had cleared out the wood blocking the entrance. Think of all the cool games we could play now. I turned and raced out, scrambling for traction. As I exited, I pounced into the air and made a lap around the room in search of my ball.

Once I remembered where I hid it, I brought it back to the old man, who was now studying some book. It’s strange how simple things can fascinate my companion sometimes. He needs to have more fun. We’ll play ball in my new cave.

I dropped my toy in his lap, but he didn’t even look up. But, he did understand what we were supposed to be doing, even if he was still fascinated with his silly book thing. He tossed the ball, exactly how he was supposed to- right into the cave. I dove in hot pursuit as the ball bounced erratically down the cave walls. We did this all afternoon, the old man sitting and looking observant of both the wood and his book while I chased the ball and played in my new cave. And I’ll tell you, my best friend sure knows how to make a pup happy.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Springtime Journey

Mar 26, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventures

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventures

We hadn’t gone far and I was already panting hard. My tongue rolled out, and dangled around, cooling me a little. Sometimes I think the old man has it easy, since he can just take his coat off when it gets warmer. But we dogs are seemingly stuck to our coats. And even if we could, it isn’t really in our nature to change our fashion every day, especially when you can’t improve excellence.

But, it is these rather hot moments that leave me wishing I could at least take a dip in a puddle of water. Not too deep though, since I can’t really doggy paddle that well. Izzy can. I check him out of my peripheral, seeing if he was as tired as I was. Nope. In fact, he was constantly pulling Debbie further ahead. Probably just trying to show off.

I wasn’t interested in tugged ahead. I set my pace to the old man’s and we keep our steps in tune. I come to the conclusion that tugging just makes me more tired. And I’m always choking myself. I can even hear Izzy wheezing a little, just because he’s pulling so hard. He’s still young though, and he’ll learn eventually.

Behind us, Buck isn’t exactly walking with the group. He keeps stopping at every single fence post to bark at some leaves or leave a message for others. Christy calls him and tries to tug him to keep up with us, and even Debbie and the old man give a holler. Izzy just boasts challenges to incentivize the slow poke. As for me, I’m just trying to save my breath. It’s my first walk in a while, and I’m definitely out of shape.

Sure, I could sprint across the yard to chase a squirrel out of my territory, or even make it from the bedroom to the kitchen before you even drop a crumb. But when it comes to endurance, I’m not the pup I used to be.

The old man stops, so I do as well, giving my haunches a rest on the shaded walkway. Apparently, we’re all going to wait for Buck, since this is supposed to be a group activity. But seeing as how I’m going to be out of breath by the time we get to the park, I don’t think I’m going to be doing much playing.

My water bowl drops down in front of me, empty. The flimsy thing was cool, but it wasn’t producing any water no matter how much I licked it. What I didn’t see was that the old man was trying to fill it up, but I was in the way. It’s okay though, since I did get a cooling shower in the process. I shook off the water, trying to keep it from getting in the ears (that does not feel good), and then commenced to enjoying a few laps in the water bowl.

Izzy nudged me out of the way, and apparently, the announcement of fresh water drew Buck right back into the midst of the group. We took turns cooling back down, offering an occasional cough when the water went the wrong way, and recommenced the journey.

It wasn’t much further to the park. The big trees loomed overhead, just now beginning to fill back up with shade. From here, I could see a few dogs and their companions playing together. There were some people grouped together under the trees, cooing and chatting with one another.

Izzy was tugging harder than ever now, whining that he was missing some immediate fun. Buck sounded our arrival as the gate opened up and we entered the park. Izzy and Buck immediately raced away, joining a game of keep-away. Some Great Dane had the ball and was charging ahead of the pack, barking challenges to the pursuers.

As for me, I’m going to take a rest with the old man here. We sat on a shady bench, taking a moment to catch our respective breath. We both took some water and followed it up with a recharge treat of jerky. I was careful to eat it in secret, as other dogs might see and want. I know I would.

After a little cool-down time, the ball emerged from the bag and the old man tossed it out into the field. He looked at me, and I looked at him. I sighed. Okay, I guess I’ll go get it for you again. He does this to me every time. I go get it for him and all he does is throw it away. It looks like it’s going to be a busy day at the park.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

Bookmark and Share


Mar 19, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Stretching is my primary concern at the moment. It feels so nice to wiggle my paws and see how long I can make myself. In addition to feeling good, it is a great way to instigate a good belly rub when someone else is around. But, I’m all alone right now (on the couch) hanging out for the afternoon.

That’s when I hear the wrappers. The rustle and the noise give advice to the fact that the old man is probably preparing an afternoon snack. And that’s enough reason to dismount my comfortable spot and head for the kitchen.

Back on the ground, I find that my leg is all tingly, almost like I stepped in some stickers. I must’ve been sleeping for a while. And even with the sun popping out earlier in the day, my schedule hasn’t changed much from the regular snooze moments I’ve been accustomed too.

The sensation goes away after a few moments, and I’m back on all fours by the time I get to the kitchen. Yup, the old man has definitely spread the jelly on the bread, and snack time is about to commence. It’s time to put my sweet-face on. No one can resist my level of charm.

At the table, the old man settles down to enjoy his tea (which I’ve never gotten a single lap of, but it’s apparently delicious), and is munching on a snack. First, I have to get his attention, which is done with a light pawing at his shoe. Once I do that, I put on my cute face. I try. I try harder. I even add in a tiny woof to make sure he knows what he’s supposed to be doing.

But, he just shakes his head. No, this is impossible. No one can resist my charms. Why? Why would you deprive me of such goodies? I ask him this, but his only reply is that I shouldn’t have it. Why shouldn’t I have it? That’s outrageous talk! We’ve enjoyed it together for so long now; I can’t see why I shouldn’t have it.

Then, with a silent, but meaningful gesture, the old man pats my flanks. I know I’m cute, but quite frankly, I’ve always thought that the little chub on my sides made me just irresistibly adorable. And that’s an image I intend to maintain.

But the old man doesn’t waver from his decision, so no snack-sharing for today. Though, he does offer me something. It’s something new, a treat I’ve never seen before in my life. Well, maybe I have, as I proceeded to munch it down too quickly to take note of the visual characteristics.

The thing here is that I’m teased with the treat. Is it mine? He puts it close enough for me to smell it, which only makes the situation worse because it’s quite fantastic. The bag crinkles and crunches in his hand, assuring me that there are more where this came from.

He doesn’t give it to me though. Instead, he walks away, the treat dangling in his hand. We exit the kitchen and enter the living room, the old man walking as I hop along, trying to snatch it from his grasp. Before long, I’m huffing and puffing, finding it more difficult to breath than normal. I can’t help it, as the very idea of munching on that treat has me so excited. I have to get it. But the old man moves faster and he’s getting harder to keep up with.

So, I turn and race the other way in an attempt to cut him off. But, all he does is turn the other way, and I’m forced to keep up with him. We dance like this for a while, with my breathing getting difficult at every turn. I stop to cough every few bounds I take, slowing my efforts to get at the goods.

Finally, the old man caves in and stops the teasing, offering me the treat and rubbing my back while I enjoy it. And even though it doesn’t taste awesome, the effort to get it made it all that much more enjoyable. He pats my sides, letting me know it’s something we need to work on. And quite frankly, I agree. I’ve been a little too lazy for too long, and such games (plus a walk) definitely give me a chance to stretch my legs more often.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Alright, Who Stole My Bone!?

Mar 12, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Back in my cushion pile, I double check to see if any paws have been prying at my secret stash. Ball? Check. Fluff collection? It’s still here. Bone… Where’s my bone? Someone has been here. Someone has taken my bone.

Panic sets in at first. Who would have taken my bone? Who would know where it was hidden? No one knows about my stash, not even my best friends, Izzy and Buck. And surely, Christie and Debbie wouldn’t want it. Or would they?

I have to calm down. There are too many variables racing through my mind right now and all I’m doing is blaming everyone. But, it can only be one of them, so I have to find the clues that’ll lead me to my bone. Let’s see, the old man and I began our travels many days ago (I have since forgotten when it was that we left), and as far as I know, there wasn’t anyone else in the house when we left.

I dig in deep, sniffing all of my treasures to see if there are any trace elements of the perpetrator. There’s nothing on the ball, but I catch a faint whiff of something different stuck in the fuzz. Evidence? It’s not the old man’s scent, but it is somewhat familiar.

The fluff pulls apart easily, revealing a new item caught in the tangles. It smells fruity, and a little gummy, like those treats that Christie likes to snack on sometimes (she doesn’t ever share those ones). This is a great clue to start out with and gives me an excellent place to start investigating the whereabouts of my bone. But first, I eat the clue (just to make sure nothing is overlooked) and it isn’t that great.

It’s time to go check on some possible suspects. Down the hall and out into the yard (it’s nice to be able to go out whenever I want to again). I braced for a cold blast, but was met with a comfortably warm breeze. I can already smell the new grass beginning to grow and even the birds have begun hopping around in the tree again (though the leaves aren’t there yet).

Then I spot Buck, who is now sniffing around some new flower pots. He looks suspicious. It’s time to see what he knows.

“Hey, Buck,” I call out nonchalantly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” he sharply responded, his leg hiked up halfway while he checked his surroundings. When he realized it was just me, he finished what he was doing and joined me at the fence.

It was time to get down to business. “Have you seen my bone?” I started. “You know the one that smells really delicious?”

“Not me,” Buck answered without hesitation. “Where was it?”

“Ha! Nice try, Buck. I’m not telling you where my secret hiding place is.”

“That’s okay. I already know where it is.”

“What?” I drew back in surprise. “Alright, where is it then?”

Buck shrugged confidently, “behind the third couch cushion after you pass the zipper on the left.”

How could this be? I’ve been hiding my things there forever, and suddenly everyone knows where it is. And I know that if Buck knows, every dog in the neighborhood surely knows. Then it hit me. Buck did have my bone. If he knew where it was, then it’s obvious that he took it.

“So it was you that took it!” I accused. “Why did you try to lie to me? You must’ve known I’d figure your scheme out in the end.”

“You asked if I had seen it. I didn’t. But Christie, she could smell it,” Buck chuckled to himself. “She went over there to take care of some things, and I heard her scream that she’d found something smelly.”

“She could smell my secret hiding place?” I was befuddled. Rarely could our companions appreciate a good sense of smell. But, she must’ve liked it so much that she took it for herself. And that’s just rude. “I guess it’s gone now. I really liked that bone too. It still had a lot of flavor stuck to it.”

“I don’t think she liked the smell, so I’m sure she didn’t keep it,” Buck assured. “In fact, I think it bothered her so much, that when she came back out, she tossed it out into the yard. And I don’t remember her picking it up.”

“So, it’s in the yard?”

“Probably, if the squirrels haven’t taken off with it yet,” Buck affirmed, but then turned away thoughtfully. “Those rascal critters, I think they stole the flowers out of the pots too.”

“I’ve got to go,” I cut him off before he started ranting on any further. He can drift off with his wild accusations and they’ll last for hours, especially when it comes to squirrels or bunnies.

I scanned the yard, searching for anything out of place. Zigzagging, I checked under sticks, leaves, and even some dirt. Then I caught a whiff of something.  It was strong and powerful, floating in on the breeze. I followed it right to the far edge of the fence, and uncovered my bone. Victory!

I knew I would find it. And now, it’s time to chew. Unfortunately, the smell was obviously less appreciated by others, and as soon as I returned it to its spot, the old man found it and replaced it with something new. And this one did taste a little better too.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

Bookmark and Share


Mar 5, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

I peeked out my little window, and watched as the old man stared outside. The rumbling has since faded into a distant hum, so I can’t quite figure out what’s so interesting outside that window. The old man has been staring out of it for a while now, occasionally stopping to check on me. But he seems so intrigued about what’s out there.

There’s no way I can see it, though. Being stuck down here in my little box isn’t exactly fun, and the entertainment is fairly limited. Just me and my bone to pass the time, and since I can’t sleep, I’m pretty much up for the rest of the trip.

This isn’t much different from last time, except that there’s another rather furry creature in the seat behind the old man. I can see them moving around occasionally, offering a light whimper on occasion to let me know how things are going.

It doesn’t seem that boredom has this furry critter by the tail. Rather, it is fear. Perhaps it’s their first time travelling? I was so unsure about what was happening the last time I was in this situation, so I decided to offer some advice.

“Hey,” I whispered, “What’s your name?”

“Who’s there?” her voice shouted back.

“Keep it quiet.” I whispered back harshly, “They don’t like it when you start yelling. I’m Rocky, and this isn’t my first time in this place.”

“What are we doing here?” the voice asked, far more secretive in nature than before.

“We’re just here to hang out for a while, I guess. There’s not much to do but wait, but there’s really nothing to be scared about around here.”

“Are you sure?” the voice was a little anxious in nature, but still minimal in tone. “I heard some thunder earlier, and it sounds like rain outside.”

“I can’t see, but the good news is that it can’t get in here. I stayed dry last time, so no worries when it comes to the weather. Just be cool and everything is gonna be all right.”

“It’s good to have someone to talk to. My mama is asleep right now, so I’ve been trying to wake her up so we can chat.”

“They’ll do that, but it’s still hard for me to sleep here. It’s just too strange. I’ll talk to you though. We just have to keep it down,” I assured my new furry acquaintance.

“What do you think is outside that window?” the voice asked. “I think it’s an aquarium, like the one my mama keeps with all the fishies in it.”

“That might be true. My old man has been staring out there for a while now, so I guess there might be some fish outside. Or maybe, it could be a picture box that shows stories. The old man likes staring at that thing when we aren’t playing outside.”

“I like staring at the aquarium just because those fish do the funniest things sometimes. One time they go left. Then right. Then they swim into the cave and pop out the top. You never know what they’re going to do. Ah, it feels nice to talk to someone else. My name is Lucy. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Rocky.”

“It’s nice to meet you too…” I managed to say as the rumbling started again and that feeling of being tossed up in the air settled in my belly.

“There it is again!” my new friend cried out in a strange voice.

“It’ll be gone in a minute, wait and see,” I assured. And it was. After a few moments of shaking and tossing about in my cage, things calmed down. And it was time to go. The old man picked me up and we began to make our way out of the place.

Then we bumped into to someone. I heard the old man excuse himself, but for a moment, we were face to face with them and their companion. I stared out of my window and into hers, noticing her long whiskers and a very fluffy face. It was Lucy.

“Meow,” was all she said, thanking me for the company, even if it was only for a short trip back home. We wouldn’t normally have gotten along well in any other situation, but today was different. And we proved that to each other. So always be ready, because you never know where you might meet your next friend…or who they might be.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

Bookmark and Share


Feb 26, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Things are definitely weird around here. The old man and I have been here for a while now, hopefully just visiting. The people-pups have been most entertaining to play with, but I haven’t really had much opportunity to get out and enjoy the lifestyle I’m accustomed to.

Usually, I would wake up, stretch my paws, and check on the old man to make sure he’s getting our breakfast ready (where he proves himself incredibly dependable). And then it’s out into the yard to check for any mail, trespassers, and empty myself out. But in this place, I’m basically stuck in our den. And there’s not much room to play around in.

There’s things under our bed, blocking me from investigating or even hiding some of my treasures I manage to sneak away with. The worst thing is that the door is always closed. Now in our house, there aren’t many closed doors. There’s one in the hall, which has the epic responsibility of keeping that noisy sucker-upper thing locked up so it can’t tear around the house (except every other week, when the old man makes the mistake of opening the door). There’s only another one that leads down into the basement, and I don’t care much about going down there.

But here, the one door in this den always stays closed. I’m always trapped in here, and only on occasion do I get visitors. Mostly it’s the old man, feeding me and then carrying me outside for a short walk so I can take care of my necessaries. Other than that, I’m pretty much just hanging out by myself. It’s really not that much fun, and I can’t wait until we get back to our own home.

Footsteps outside the door informed me that the old man had come to fetch me for a little time out in the sun, which I’m extremely grateful for. The door opened, and the old man popped in. But he wasn’t here to get me. A quick rummage through his bag and he was done, headed for the door. I stopped him at the door, telling him that I needed to go out, but he told me to get back. I had to go. I had to get out of here, even for just a moment.

The old man didn’t have a chance. As soon as the door was cracked and he had stepped through, I shot out like a lightning bolt. All that energy for the past few days had been stored up for this one magnificent romp through unknown territory. One door. Two doors. Then out of the hallway and into the big room.

The people and their pups were all seated on the couch, chattering away in their silly talk (which I won’t even try to make out this time). Then I was spotted, which was made clear by the high pitched yelps of surprise. The people-pups gave chase, and I led them in a fantastic game of tag. They were bigger than me, but not as cunning. Under the table and behind the desk I raced, evading their grasp with every dashing move I could muster.

Then the pair of them got smart and split up. We had been running circles, but now they were coming at me from both sides. I had nowhere to run but up, right into the lap of the lady-person. Because she wasn’t in the game I didn’t think she was going to play any part in the set-up, but perhaps that is what they wanted me to think. Sometimes these people can be so clever.

I was held fast in the trap. And then the rubbing started. It began on my neck and gave way to a little scratching behind my ear. That felt good. Then the people-pups joined in, and eventually the old man had settled down too and everyone was sitting on the couch, including me.

The only one not happy about the situation was man-person. He sat there, his arms crossed, eyeing me in a rather irritated manner. Perhaps he was upset because he wasn’t part of the game, or that his lady had won. He even tried to take me and give me back to the old man, but the lady shooed him away, as if he were a pesky squirrel. I think he was a little jealous, and with good cause too. After all, you don’t get much cuter than me!


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

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Feb 19, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

Well, the trip wasn’t what I had expected. While I couldn’t see anything out of my little window, I was sure we were headed down one extremely bumpy road for a while. But other than that, the road was smooth going uphill. Up and down we went, my ears popping on occasion which left this incessant ringing sound somewhere I couldn’t quite place.

But after we had arrived, and met the astounding number of new scents that it brought, it was back out to where I could see again. And that is a very good thing, since I’ve had a chance to potty since we first left. The old man plopped me out, leashed me, and set me to explore the new location.

That’s where I met them. The new people. They were a nice couple, but I had no idea who they were and they seemed not to care much for who I was either. They were just a couple of strangers. But it’s their people-pups I was more interested in. The pair of them took right to me, petting and rubbing and scratching behind my ears. Oh, I really like them.

So we went home with them. I had to stay in my little tent bag, but this time the trip was a lot smoother and it helped that my bladder was empty too. The whole ride along, the people-pups kept checking me out through my little window, occasionally putting their paws close enough so I could give them a sniff, mostly checking to see if they were handing me a treat.

When we finally arrived, I was unleashed upon the yard to explore the new scents and listen to the odd sounds. Everything was abuzz, from birds chattering about a twig and a nest, to a squirrel squeaking at me to get out of his yard. I didn’t and instead found a hole he had dug and pulled out some of the goodies he had stashed- just to let him know who the boss around here was.

The indoors were amazing, though there were rules for me to abide by. The people made that very clear to the old man and me. I could go here, but not there. I wasn’t allowed in their room or the kitchen or the other room. In fact, I wasn’t allowed much of anywhere at all. I was lucky enough to be able to bunk with the old man.

With the door closed and the old man’s things being unpacked, I decided to unpack my own stuff. My ball, my favorite fluffy that Christy gave me, and a treat I had stashed when no one was looking. I took it and hid it behind the bed post where the old man wouldn’t find it. I can’t eat it in front of him, since he’ll probably want some too.

After he had unpacked, the old man told me to stay and left me by myself. I tried to follow him, but he pushed me back with a firm “no.” Then he left. So I waited. Maybe he had gone to get some snacks for us. Perhaps he was just going potty. I don’t know and I couldn’t hear much of what was going on out there. Occasionally he laughed, but then it was quiet again.

That is until my door opened. The people pups had come to join me. Or rather, I had now joined them. The girl picked me up and carried me out and into another room. It was completely different in here, not to mention that there was a really strange smell. It was almost like the woods like that time we went camping. But there were no trees here. At least none that I could see.

Then I was introduced to the source. A small creature, fluffy and smelly, was wiggling through a maze of tunnels and burrowing in some wood chips. It was a strange critter that also seemed intrigued by me. Its little paws pressed tight up against the cage and its nose wiggled to catch a whiff of my scent.

“Who are you,” I asked, “and where can I get a cage like that for myself?”

The nose stopped and wiggled no more. Once it blinked. Then again. And finally it spoke.

“My name…is Sir Whiskers the Fluffy, and all that you see is my kingdom. There is none other like it,” the critter proclaimed. “You may leave me now, as it is time to run in the wheel of infinity.” Then the little critter turned and hopped into a wheel where he began to run. The funny thing is that it went nowhere. What’s the purpose in that?

With introductions out of the way, it was time to play. And that we did. Overall, today was a good day. Though the trip was a little bumpy, we met some new people and made some new friends, even if one of them is a little strange. I can’t wait to tell Izzy about this one.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Up, Up, Up and No Way!

Feb 12, 2013

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventures

Porch Potty: Rocky Adventures

Like I said before, I think I have to potty. Luckily, it’s just an “I think” for right now. It’s hard to tell if it’s just all the commotion around us or if I forgot to take care of business before we left. A little tingling compared to the mild shakes can be difficult to differentiate, especially if one were to find themselves as worried as I am.

I can hear all the voices and foot-steps echoing in this place (and a low rumble from somewhere I can’t quite put my paw on). I even catch the scent of some old leather shoes that seem to call out for a little nibbling, which would definitely help take my mind off the present situation. It helps when I imagine the old man’s shoe I hid away long ago, just for this type of occasion. Bad thing is, I can’t get to it right now and I doubt it would fit in this small tent with me.

Sure I can move around, at least as long as the old man is holding onto me. But as soon as I hit the ground, that blasted top comes down on me. And I would like to point out the fact that a good old game of blanket-hide and seek is fun, but not this time. Not a good time. Not a good place.

Right now I can hear the old man speaking and making his silly sounds, some of which I have yet to decipher. At this moment, what I would really like to hear is that it’s time to get out so we can get to playing. For the first time since we arrived here, I decided to speak, just to make sure that we were planning to play sometime soon.

All I got was a “hush!” from the old man. Not mad, but he was definitely a little upset. You’d figure that with all the commotion around us, nobody would mind if a pup spoke up about their playtime. But there was no sense in arguing. Once the old man hits the “quiet” button, I’d better keep my comments to myself.

The nice thing is that after enduring a bumpy ride in my box (the old man was definitely having trouble carrying me, and I probably should lose a few pounds), we started traveling like the kings we are. The car was quiet, simply rolling past other people with graceful speed. I could see them flash by through my little windows, which remained un-obscured as long as I kept the roof from plopping down too much.

When we stopped, I noticed something very peculiar. That rumbling, the one I mentioned before, was very near us. I could hear it, but it said nothing in particular. Just a low howl, almost lonely it might seem. So I howled a little, just to see what it would say. And just as the old man told me to hush again, the howl drowned to a whine. And I don’t like whiners, so I decided to ignore it.

Unfortunately, we were back to bumpy cruising. I tried to stay as flat on the floor of my box as I could, so I wouldn’t slide around, but it was a hard task set before me to do so. But eventually, we settled down. Well, my heart didn’t settle down, but the journey seemed to have come to a climax. The old man stashed my box on the ground, but I could still see him through my window. He looked calm, but I know that face. I could hear his heart going a little fast too. Whatever is going to happen, it’s got the old man excited. Must be a good thing we’re here.

“Hey,” I call out to the old man, “let me out if it’s time for the fun to begin.”

But once again, he hushed me. Such attitude. What could I have done to make him upset? I’m a good pup. So I turned to my squeaky for answers. It always comforts me in these times of confusion. The mellow consistency of the “squeak” is rarely appreciated by our companions, but I adore it. Makes me feel good.

I didn’t get to squeak for too long though. No one took it away from me. It wasn’t that at all. It was that once distant howl. It had turned from rumble to thunder. It was thunder I could feel in my very paws, and with it came the most amazing feeling ever. It felt like I was flying.


Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own “rocky” adventures.

Bookmark and Share