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. Iâ€™ll just have to go get him, which Iâ€™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 buddyâ€™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 didnâ€™t help that there was now a strange dog in my yard. I turned to study my â€œnew playmateâ€ with just enough time to see the oncoming tackle, which wasnâ€™t graceful by any means. I pushed her off and set some distance between us just in case.
â€œWho are you?â€ 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 â€œyupâ€ sound. So I asked again. I got a different answer this time. This is just great. Iâ€™m puppy-sitting. This young rascal hasnâ€™t even learned to talk yet!
For her the conversation mustâ€™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 werenâ€™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 wouldnâ€™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 itâ€™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 isnâ€™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 didnâ€™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 patioâ€™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. Itâ€™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.
â€œI think we need a bath.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 â€œrockyâ€ adventures.