I know today is grocery day, and quite frankly itâ€™s a wonderful break from the monotony. Being a dog, I of course love to enjoy some lazy time to myself. But aside from my hobby of sunbathing in the window, I do enjoy giving my legs a stretch.
Needless to say, I enjoy these small trips around town. After all, I canâ€™t very well leave the old man unattended. Who knows what kind of mischief he might get himself into? And even though I wait in the car while the old man fetches (I taught him that) some goodies to whip up and feast upon later, itâ€™s still enjoyable to see the different sites and take in the new smells of town.
But, weâ€™ve strayed today.Â We turned left where we should have turned right, and Iâ€™m sure that the park is supposed to be outside my window. Itâ€™s definitely the wrong way to our next stop. I try to tell the old man, but he just pats me on the head and reassures me everything is going to be all right. I guess thatâ€™s good enough for me. After all, as long as he knows where weâ€™re going, weâ€™re never lost.
Eventually we leave the city behind, but not by far. I can still detect some of its unique scents even though theyâ€™ve grown faint. The ride has even become a little bumpier, jostling me around and had I not been wearing my seat-leash, Iâ€™m sure I wouldâ€™ve ended up on the floor a couple of times.
The new place weâ€™re at is strange. I can smell different animals, plants, and even a pie thatâ€™s probably been set out to cool in an open window. It doesnâ€™t smell as good as Debbieâ€™s, but Iâ€™m sure it would satisfy my belly if they let me have it.
The old man gets out of the car and hobbles around with his walking-stick due to the obviously bumpy terrain. I can hear him calling out, to which another man replies. They talk for a minute, and I add some conversation to the situation.
â€œHey, Iâ€™ve got to go!â€ I whine. Iâ€™m usually patient, but thereâ€™s undoubtedly some stuff around here that needs marking.
The old man complies and lets me out to take care of business and possibly sneak in a little exploration time. Everything looks wide open here. There is a field directly ahead that has plants and what looks likeâ€¦watermelon! One of my favorites! (Iâ€™m not picky, so itâ€™s one on a long list).
I canâ€™t go far though, especially since you can never be sure where the old man might wander off to. But, it turns out that the two of them had their eye on the same thing.
The old man stops at the edge of the field, probably because the ground is so soft, but I canâ€™t. I can smell all sorts of things here. There are cats, what smells like a deer, some bunnies, and what smells like a strange dog. Theyâ€™ve all come and gone, so for the moment, I have the field to myself. I start examining some of the melons and a few markings left behind. Occasionally, Iâ€™ll find a watermelon that has recently been feasted on. So I help myself to a small sample.
Thatâ€™s when the bird came at me. You can never trust a creature that moves as silently through the air as a bird, and I never will. I jumped right out of my fur when it squawked overhead.
â€œMine!â€ he chirped.
â€œMine now!â€ I barked back.
It swooped low again and taunted me once more. Then the chase was on. I hopped up in the air and barked my fiercest, most intimidating battle-cries (I learned them while we were watching Izzyâ€™s picture box). It darted left and right, so we zigzagged through the field. I leapt over melon obstacles and even got tangled in some of the vines, but I would never give up.
That is, not until I looked back and couldnâ€™t recognize where I was. I was lost. Overhead the bird laughed at me, as if realizing the predicament. Then it left.
I cried out to the old man. But all I could hear was the wind and the rustle of leaves. I looked around, but I was at the bottom of a slope, and all that I could see were more melons ahead of me. I sniffed around, looking for my own scent. And it was there, in a tangle of leaves and vines that had slowed me earlier. I followed my trail which was hard due to the erratic nature of my pursuit (I told you birds are not to be trusted).
I finally crested the slope and spotted the two of them, the other man loading up a huge watermelon into the car. My paws moved swiftly and brought me back to the old man.
â€œThought you were lost,â€ he smiled.
â€œI wasnâ€™t lost! After all, wherever I go, there you are,â€ I barked back and wagged my tail. â€œNow letâ€™s have some of that watermelon.â€
Jason DuronÂ 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.