Like I said before, I think I have to potty. Luckily, it’s just an “I think” for right now. It’s hard to tell if it’s just all the commotion around us or if I forgot to take care of business before we left. A little tingling compared to the mild shakes can be difficult to differentiate, especially if one were to find themselves as worried as I am.
I can hear all the voices and foot-steps echoing in this place (and a low rumble from somewhere I can’t quite put my paw on). I even catch the scent of some old leather shoes that seem to call out for a little nibbling, which would definitely help take my mind off the present situation. It helps when I imagine the old man’s shoe I hid away long ago, just for this type of occasion. Bad thing is, I can’t get to it right now and I doubt it would fit in this small tent with me.
Sure I can move around, at least as long as the old man is holding onto me. But as soon as I hit the ground, that blasted top comes down on me. And I would like to point out the fact that a good old game of blanket-hide and seek is fun, but not this time. Not a good time. Not a good place.
Right now I can hear the old man speaking and making his silly sounds, some of which I have yet to decipher. At this moment, what I would really like to hear is that it’s time to get out so we can get to playing. For the first time since we arrived here, I decided to speak, just to make sure that we were planning to play sometime soon.
All I got was a “hush!” from the old man. Not mad, but he was definitely a little upset. You’d figure that with all the commotion around us, nobody would mind if a pup spoke up about their playtime. But there was no sense in arguing. Once the old man hits the “quiet” button, I’d better keep my comments to myself.
The nice thing is that after enduring a bumpy ride in my box (the old man was definitely having trouble carrying me, and I probably should lose a few pounds), we started traveling like the kings we are. The car was quiet, simply rolling past other people with graceful speed. I could see them flash by through my little windows, which remained un-obscured as long as I kept the roof from plopping down too much.
When we stopped, I noticed something very peculiar. That rumbling, the one I mentioned before, was very near us. I could hear it, but it said nothing in particular. Just a low howl, almost lonely it might seem. So I howled a little, just to see what it would say. And just as the old man told me to hush again, the howl drowned to a whine. And I don’t like whiners, so I decided to ignore it.
Unfortunately, we were back to bumpy cruising. I tried to stay as flat on the floor of my box as I could, so I wouldn’t slide around, but it was a hard task set before me to do so. But eventually, we settled down. Well, my heart didn’t settle down, but the journey seemed to have come to a climax. The old man stashed my box on the ground, but I could still see him through my window. He looked calm, but I know that face. I could hear his heart going a little fast too. Whatever is going to happen, it’s got the old man excited. Must be a good thing we’re here.
“Hey,” I call out to the old man, “let me out if it’s time for the fun to begin.”
But once again, he hushed me. Such attitude. What could I have done to make him upset? I’m a good pup. So I turned to my squeaky for answers. It always comforts me in these times of confusion. The mellow consistency of the “squeak” is rarely appreciated by our companions, but I adore it. Makes me feel good.
I didn’t get to squeak for too long though. No one took it away from me. It wasn’t that at all. It was that once distant howl. It had turned from rumble to thunder. It was thunder I could feel in my very paws, and with it came the most amazing feeling ever. It felt like I was flying.
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.