Aha! No time for walkies today, weâ€™re going for a ride. From my spot in the window, I watched the old man scraping last nightâ€™s fluffy snow off the windshield. Things have been extra cold this week. Itâ€™s always neat when itâ€™s cold like this, because instead of water from the sky, we get this fluffy stuff called snow. And luckily for me, snow tastes way better than water. I guess maybe I just like the way it tingles on my tongue, but itâ€™s irresistible nonetheless.
I run around in the fresh blanket of cold wetness as I try to seek a good place to do my daily. A pile of leaves offers something better than the wetness, and I take care of business. Then the old man calls me to load up. I donâ€™t know what weâ€™re doing, but we always have fun doing it. He loves to sing while we drive, and I like to listen. Weâ€™re quite the pair, if I do say so myself.
I hop up into my seat, but somethingâ€™s a little different here. Instead of my regular freedom, I get a leash that holds me fast to the seat. Itâ€™s like the one that the old man puts on, but I donâ€™t like it. It feels strange, and I let the old man know. I struggle against it for a moment while the old man changes something. Then everything is cool, and Iâ€™m back to sitting right in my spot again.
Then the fun starts. Weâ€™re moving, (the feeling is felt rather than seen) and the old man starts up his jolly singing. I stare out my window at the moving world around us. With this fascinating white blanket over it, the world looks rather bland. Usually, you could spot different houses, yards, and people, but today everything looks the same.
We stop for a moment, and I get a new view. Some people pups and their mama and papa are building balls of snow and piling them up on each other. They run and play in the fluffy whiteness, and I see that the snow does change the world in its own special way.
We pull into a place where the people put their cars, and the old man puts ours in a spot next to another. Its cold out, so the window is opened just enough for me to talk to the other pup in the next car. I get a firm pat on my head and am told to be good. â€œIâ€™m always good,â€ says I. Then I offer my most innocent puppy eyes to confirm. The old man chuckles and leaves me alone for now. I watch as he enters the large building where he gets our food stuffs.
When heâ€™s out of sight, I turn back to the window and try to jump up to talk to my neighbor. Unfortunately, I forgot that this leash thing was still on. After some maneuvering, I manage to wiggle enough to get out and start telling my neighbor that this is my car. He says he knows, and tells me that heâ€™s in his car. Then he says that he likes his bone. I tell him that I might like his bone, too. That was a mistake, because he got real mad. I apologized and told him that I didnâ€™t want his bone. It was just that I thought it was probably so good that any pup might like it. He calmed down, and we started talking about toys and food stuffs.
After a while, I spot the old man approaching. Heâ€™s pushing a buggy full of bags (I like to play with them, but Iâ€™m not supposed to). He opens one of the doors in the rear and piles in some of our new goodies. I try to sniff them to see which ones I want, but the old man pushes me back into my seat and wonders how I escaped my leash. I shrug as innocently as possible.
He leashes me back in and takes care of himself as well. Then weâ€™re off, likely back towards home. I recognize some of the same houses. I spot the people pups still piling snowy balls up and putting sticks in them now. We slowed and stopped so I could get a better look.
Thatâ€™s when the craziest thing happened. The whole car shook, and the old man let out a yelp of his own. Our leashes held us fast to the seats so we didnâ€™t fall down. I looked around to see what was wrong. The old man did the same. Then he said a few words that I didnâ€™t understand and picked up his talking box toy and started pushing on it with his shaking paws. He told me to stay as he got out and went to talk to another man.
After heâ€™d talked to some other peoples and a protector man, he got back in and shook his head. It was all a little scary, I guess. He gave me a good pat on the head and checked my leashing thingy again. He secured his own leash and let out a sigh. Then he smiled and started singing again as we headed for home.
Jason Duron 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.