Regardless of what you might be thinking, I didn’t get in trouble. The cat may have been quick, but the old man was clever. Paw prints littered the counter tops, spilled flour and sugar posing as an alibi that I am, of course very appreciative of. But, the sandwich was still the victim of a needless crime, and neither he nor I enjoyed it’s remnants.

“Don’t touch that!” the old man warned, “You don’t know where that cat’s been!” His expression is a mix between silly and serious. I can’t tell. Sometimes his humor can be confusing, so it can be difficult to know whether he’s playing with me or scolding.

I watched as the still very delicious smelling leftovers were disposed of beyond my reach. And needless to say, the window has been closed ever since, which is fine with me, especially since the sound of distant rumbles and water falling from the sky make the outdoor air most uninviting.

To add to the fun, I’ve just received a new treat for being such an honorable guard dog (my ferocity is renowned throughout the world). This object is very different from the usual toy, and actually smells unique. Its fluffy texture tickles my tongue, as the composition gives way beneath the grasp of my jaw. But, biting and chewing isn’t the fun part- it’s the strings that make up the object that I most enjoy. I love to bite these strings and pull them till the innards come out. These innards are soft and fuzzy, and often get stuck in my mouth. While tasteless, I still enjoy filling my belly with it. Even the outer parts manage to find their way down. The hard plastic eyes were my favorite to chew on- until I quickly learned that wasn’t what the toy was for.

Christy has brought more goodies over, smiling at me and asking what I’ve been up to. I cough up a ball of fuzz along with my answer, and she, being the tattle tale that she is, has caught me doing what I’m apparently “not supposed to be doing.” While not in trouble, I quickly lost my new toy as she tugged it from my grasp and picked up the remains of the shredded goodie. While frustrated that my treat was gone, I got to watch he old man get a scolding of his own. Something about “belly aches” comes up in the conversation. I laugh and tell them to give the toy back. Nothing could hurt this belly of iron.

No matter how much I argued, or even begged, I didn’t get my new toy back. Funny thing is that later that evening, I understood why. I guess soft and fluffy things aren’t very good to eat. Perhaps they tickle your insides or something. Even when it came to dinner time, I didn’t really feel like filling my belly (that didn’t stop me from doing so though).

So now we sit here, the old man watching the picture box full of other people and rooms. A man talks to another man while people laugh in the background. I don’t know what’s so funny, but then again, I’ve never understood “people” humor. Sometimes they get hurt, and then laugh about it. Silly and perhaps senseless, I think to myself. And that’s when it hits me. No, it has nothing to do with humor, but instead, it is definitely something tickling me from the inside, and it wants only one thing- to get back out.

I hop down from the couch and try to get to the back door. I can’t make the distance, and find myself coughing and hacking right in front of the doorway. I can feel the fluff escape me, and it is a very uncomfortable sensation. The old man pats me on the back and rubs me down as he tells me everything is going to be alright.

After the mess gets cleaned up, I get another surprise. I feel much better now, but there is still some rumbling in my belly. So, the old man has whipped something up for me. It is another fluffy and soft substance, very much unlike my usual foods which are quite crunchy (but still delicious). The old man called it rice- but I call it excellent.

I gobbled it down, regardless of my belly’s argument. A little while later, as the old man sits and rubs my belly while we watch the box, I notice that I feel much better. I’m no doc, but I can safely say that a little love and plenty of attention always does the doggy good. Especially when it’s a belly rub I’m getting!


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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