I popped out this afternoon to see what was going on. My friends came over earlier, so we’ve been busy playing a game of tag inside. But the situation for our companions has been a little different. In and out they’ve been moving. I once even caught a whiff of something yummy, but it went out the back door as well. And that’s what had my attention.
The weather has been much nicer this last week, not completely warm, but not too cold for my paws either. For the most part, it’s been quite enjoyable, which is probably why all our people are out enjoying the outdoors today.
The old man and Debbie are organizing a table with bottles and plates, while Christie and Marty’s companions (whom we have dubbed “the joggers” since they’re always out jogging in the mornings, rain or shine) have been preparing something around the outside cooker. And I might be just a dog, but as far as I’m aware, that device is only used during the summer. But when there’s food concerned, who am I to ask?
So we dogs are now quietly observing from a set distance. Containers move from one table to the cooker, which is opened to reveal the smell of something wonderful. What’s in the container goes into the cooker and it’s closed again. But that part doesn’t interest me as much as what happens next. One, two, three and four drops hit the ground, the splat echoing clearly in our ears. We all see it. Marty, though young, has excellent restraint, which waivers for only a brief second as his eyes twitch and his nub wiggles a little. But, none of us move, for we all know that to get involved would only get us banished from the area. We have to be clever about it.
“I want to see what it is,” Marty whispered. “It smells so good.”
“No!” Izzy warned. “Wait until they’re not looking.”
Buck simply nodded, his previous encounter having made him all the wiser. We would have to wait, then go in for a taste and sniff. So we waited. Christy returned inside with her container, so Buck followed to investigate further while we three sat and waited. The joggers had joined the old man and Debbie, paying strict attention to whatever was on that table.
“Go,” Izzy nudged Marty. The pup waddled over to the spots, detecting a few elements of something tasty indeed which he proceeded to engage feverishly with his tongue. But I could tell that Debbie was losing interest in the table, and possibly getting ready to turn about.
“Come back, hurry!” I yipped as quietly as possible. But Marty wasn’t listening. I’d have to take action quickly or we’d all lose access to the event. I trotted nonchalantly over to him and wacked him with my tail to initiate a chase, which worked. Marty nipped at me and followed me just far enough away as not to raise any unnecessary attention.
Success. No one was any the wiser. We would just have to be patient and wait for the next window of opportunity. And as luck would have it, that wouldn’t be too long. Debbie and the old man each carried something back inside. Once the door closed behind them, we knew that was our chance. I watched the joggers carefully to see if they were watching me. But they were focused on that table for some strange reason.
The spots were still saturated with enough flavor to offer a sample of what might be to come. My tongue told me it was quite tasty, while my ears were deaf to the warnings of my friends.
“Rocky, they’re coming!” Izzy announced, but I didn’t hear. At least not until the old man was standing over me, arms crossed and displaying that look in his eye told me I wasn’t supposed to be doing exactly what I was doing. The old man swept some dirt over the spots, eliminating their flavor forever. Saddened, I returned to my friends as Buck and Christie emerged from the house with more containers.
“Oh well,” Izzy said in a disheartened tone. “It was good while it lasted. Just wish I had gotten a taste.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” I said confidently. “Every time we eat outside, our people are always messy eaters. Just wait and see.”
And sure enough, it took little time for Christie to drop her plate, much of which tumbled here and there and everywhere. Being the helpful pups that we are, we decided to assist her in the act of cleaning up such a mess. After all, what are good friends for?
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.