Porch Potty: Rocky Adventure

The cold woke me up again. Now usually, I’d be snuggled up on the couch with the old man, but he’s busy wrapping those silly boxes again. So, I’m left here alone, tucked in-between these two cushions. Right now, my main goal is to get back to that wonderful dream I was having before (I swear on my tail’s honor that I had dug up a bone bigger than me!).

But that’s not going to happen anytime soon so I’d better take care of this itch that just sprung up on my hip. They tend to be such annoying little tickles. With a few nibbles, it dissipates and I’m back to studying the old man again.

First he puts something in the box (nothing I find attractive). Then he puts the box on the paper and start’s covering it and putting that sticky stuff after to keep things in place. Occasionally, he messes up and makes a ball out of it, which is tossed to the side. At first, I took it as an invitation to play a game, but apparently those aren’t for me to mess with.

Though, I do remember the first time I discovered what that stuff was before it was balled up. A few strands were lying around, which mysteriously found their way onto my paws. Whew! I thought something was trying to get at me. After some wrestling and tugging at my paws (I do believe it managed to steal a tuft of my precious and quite lustrous fur), the strands came off. After that, I figured I’d be better off staying away from such annoyances.

Unfortunately, my time spent on this couch is always interrupted by something. This time it happens to be the one thing that isn’t just going to snag me from my ever so very comfortably warm spot, it is going to take me into the snowy tundra’s of the great outdoors.

Now during the warm weather, this is something I definitely look forward to. Perhaps a quick chat with Buck or even offering a greeting to other neighbors, including the always annoying Mr. Good Cat, make my day that much more interesting. But when it’s this cold outside, I tend to just wish I could take care of business inside where my paws won’t freeze off.

Up from my spot, the cold is already nipping on my left side (it’s always the warmest spot that gets coldest the fastest). I move quick, since the faster this goes, the quicker I’ll get back to snuggling in my spot. Down the hall and to the door which is breathing in the cold as we speak.

I pop my head outside and look both ways. Things changed last night. Usually, you can see the grass and some scattered leaves (some fresh dirt where I was exploring), but the situation outside has drastically changed. Snow, as the old man calls it. And while it excites him, it isn’t exactly my bowl of chow. It’s cold and wet and sticks to my paws.

I hop out onto the clear pathway, which has strangely resisted the magic of this snowy substance. Staying close to the side of the house, I look for a decent place to relieve myself. The garden hose is a no go. Pile of bricks isn’t enticing. Ah, the flower pot (which is home to a pile of snow instead of a flower) presents the ripe opportunity.

Done with business, I hurry back inside. And while the walk is clear, it still manages to neglect providing me with any traction. My rear paws lose their grip and my tail end hits the wet path with a “plop.” It’s just not my day.

Back inside, I get as far away from the door as possible. In fact, I go ahead and tuck back into my spot as best as I can. I lick my paws to warm them, and that’s when I discover the taste. My paws taste funny. They taste like people food. I can’t help but lick them, even after normal feeling comes back.

One thing does stop me though. The looming shadow of the old man hovers over me. “What are you doing, Rocky?” he asks.

“Getting warmed back up,” I inform while showing him my paws.

So, he helps me, and I didn’t even have to ask. A towel envelops me and he starts rubbing me all over while I try to get out. Of course, hide-me is a favorite of mine. All you need is a blanket and a doggy and you have an instant game that never gets old. Though when you stop to think about it, no game ever seems to get old if you’re a dog. And the ones we play together are the best – especially when it keeps my paws warm and toasty.


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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