Last night was spent wonderfully with all my friends, but now the day has returned with blinding resolution. While we were safe and warm inside by the fire, a plethora of that white fluffy snow has blanketed the entire world. Unfortunately, this leaves me faced with quite the predicament since the amount of fluff has also prevented me from getting outside. My door is stuck and even the old man can’t open his. Basically, we’re trapped.
You might be wondering that since I don’t really like navigating the snowy tundra of my own yard, why I would want out in the first place. The answer is simple. I have to piddle. The old man has his very fancy indoor potty all to himself, so this particular issue isn’t really something he’s familiar with. When he has to go, he just takes care of it in the warmth and comfort of his tiny room.
So with my need to go in mind, I will definitely need the assistance of my companion to figure out a solution to this predicament. Right now, he’s staring at the picture box, watching shapes drift around with no particular pattern (such a strange habit). First, I’ll just have to get his attention. This is accomplished by pawing at his leg and simply telling him what we need to do. The paw he notices, but he seems oblivious to my words. So I speak a little more clearly. Still no reaction. Guess I’ll have to slow it down so he can understand.
So the old man and I play a game of charades instead, and the conversation went something like this:
“Of course, but that’s not the right answer.”
“No, I need to empty myself first.”
I rush to the back door and nudge the bell. I taught the old man to come open the door whenever I ring this simple object (companions are so smart like that). Usually, I only use the bell trick when my little door is closed off because of the rain or late at night, but today seems to be a little stranger than most. So I’m sure I’m going to need the old man’s help even after we get outside.
Early this morning, I had surmounted the window ledge to see what all the brightness was about. And behold, the entire world had been covered in a blinding light. And it wasn’t just covered, it was up to the window, as if something had buried our home with the strange texture. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my puppy years. The tree was full of fluff instead of leaves, making it a bright sight to keep my eyes on. Nothing moved out there either. It was as if the entire world had fallen asleep and had yet to wake up from its cozy nap. Birds should be fluttering around somewhere or I should have at least spotted a scene consisting of Mr. Good Cat strolling along the fence line in search of a good conversation (or a shiny object). But there was nothing.
This quiet world leaves me with the challenge of not only getting out there and taking care of business, but making sure that everyone else is awake too. And I hereby assign the old man to assist me with the situation. Now open the door.
But the door didn’t budge. The old man peaked through the window to see what I already knew. He looked at me (I was doing my “I gotta go” dance) and realized the urgency of the situation. He tried the window, which opened after several grunts of effort. The snow trickled in, splatting right on my head. The cold surprise almost made me lose control, but I managed to maintain composure and told the old man to let me out. But he didn’t. He reached out and his hand simply disappeared. All he had to do was shake his head and I knew that we weren’t going out that way.
The window closed and we headed towards the old man’s little room. It’s such a cozy place, filled with scents of paper, shaving cream, and that strange thing he rubs under his arms amongst other things. His bowl (which is not for drinking) is a strange object, consisting of a lid and a seat for the old man. Me, I get to stand on the seat. He picks me up and lets my paws achieve stability. And while my aim isn’t perfect, my needs are relieved.
After I’m done, the old man puts me back on solid ground and his potty-station makes that sucking noise that always fascinates me. I look up at the old man and propose a good idea- maybe you’d better get me one of my own so we don’t have to do this again next time.
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.