It’s another one of those days. Yep. I’ve got a whole house full of empty. It’s been like this lately. The old man takes off early in the morning. The hat and coat go on, the keys jingle, then he pats me on the head and tells me to be a good boy.
This might be totally frustrating were it not for the fact that he always comes home with something new. The other day it was a sweater that smelled like fifteen different people. I knew at once that it wasn’t a toy because it came out of the bag and dropped right into a box and was sealed up with paper. Then just yesterday, he brought home a toy. But this one wasn’t for me I was told. It too went into a box and was wrapped up in paper.
As of today, there’s a whole lot of new things around, but none of them are for me. It gets a little depressing, especially since I get the feeling that I’m being forgotten. And the more I dwell on it, the more depressed I get. All alone in this big house with new toys that I can’t play with. Sure, I stop to sniff them through the slightly open hallway closet, but it’s just not the same as the attention that I’m missing out on.
Up and out to take care of potty business, the only thing I can be sure of is that my now warm couch pillow will be cold when I get back to it. Maybe after I get done, I’ll catch a snooze in the dining room window where the afternoon sun keeps the carpet warm.
The air has definitely gotten colder out here, and even though the old man got rid of most of the leaves, many continue to drop from the trees. Some pile up, while others twist and ride the cold wind, accumulating on the fence, which is where I spot Buck, peeking his snout through.
“Hey, Rocky.” Buck barked. “What you doing?”
“Just taking care of the business.” I woofed back and told him I couldn’t go with him watching. He politely took interest in the sky for the few necessary moments.
“Past few days have been boring. Christy brought home some really cool things, but I couldn’t play with them. One was this awesome smelling pair of boots that definitely could use some chewing.” Buck told the sky. “Lots of cool stuff, but none for me.”
“Same here. You think they’re planning something?” I asked, now suspicious of our companions plotting some strange plan. “Maybe they’re going to get some new dogs?”
“No way!” Buck howled. “One of me is enough.”
“True.” I stated, though still suspicious of our companions’ behavior.
“Maybe they’re just saving up a whole lot of treats to give us at the same time.” Buck said with an inspired look in his eyes. Then the expression evaded his grasp when he discovered that his tail was wagging. He seems like such a confused dog sometimes.
“Well it’s too cold for me out here, so I’m gonna head back inside.” I told Buck. “Be careful with the tail this time.”
“Oh, I’m…gonna get…that rascally thing…don’t…you worry.” Buck said between his “challenge” cries.
Back inside, the house seemed much warmer than when I had left it. Of course, being outside in the cold air will make anything inside seem like a better comfort solution. And the spot where the afternoon sun had been shining through the window was so nice and warm. I laid down and turned belly-up.
That’s when the door swung open and the old man peeked around it. He stared. I stared. My tail wagged.
Then came the tree. One of our neighbors, whose name I can never seem to remember, brought the tree…inside. It wasn’t our usual one. This one smelled real. And guess where it went. Right in my sunny spot. This upset me at first, but after the neighbor had left, the decorating started. Bulbs and lights came out of boxes and went on the tree. I played with one of the shiny balls, but the old man took it and put it back in the box. Then he gave me a different one. Still shiny, it smelled completely different than the last. This one was apparently “okay” for me to chase and play around with in the room.
While I was busy trying to get the ball, the old man continued to hang different things on the tree. I was getting frustrated with mine. Due to the old man’s apparent “thumbs” on his paws, he was able to grab onto these balls without using his mouth. Of course, he doesn’t get to really dig into his food and enjoy it the way I get to. He always has to use his paws to put food in his mouth. He’s so silly sometimes.
But, this does seem to present a problem in this particular situation. I chased the ball into the corner, and that’s when I was able to get a good grip on it. I brought it back to the old man and showed him.
“Good boy!” he said, which was always good to hear. I nodded proudly.
Then he picked me up and told me to put it in the tree. Seriously? After all that work? Oh well, like companion, like dog. I reached out and released the ball into the tree. It dropped down a branch, but was caught by another and stayed. Then the old man indulged me as he rubbed my neck and we stepped back to enjoy the new scenery.
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.