ROCKY ADVENTURE – Rocky the Puppy-Sitter

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.”

Author:

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

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.

Author:

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

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.

Author:

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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