ROCKY ADVENTURE – Stolen, Part 1

The festivities of the last few days have left me a little tuckered out. Even the old man has been taking a few extra naps during the day. Of course, it is a little cooler now. But all the falling leaves and cool afternoons are something I enjoy playing in, even if it is alone.

For now though, it’s sunbathing time. I’ve been resting here, being a little lazy, but it’s what I do. The afternoon sun is warm, contrasting against the cool air. Both feel good on my furry body.

Then something strange happens. A car, unfamiliar to my territory has parked just outside the fence. I growl to warn, but a kind looking fella emerges. With him comes the scent of something rather delicious. It’s hard to resist when food is involved, so I move in for a closer look. The kind fella is nice enough to toss me a piece of his parcel which I do appreciate. I sniff, and when things seem tasty enough I begin to munch.

Sadly, that’s when I was stolen.

Two large hands haul me up and away with my snack still in mouth, and I go for a ride in this mysterious man’s car. The smell of several other pups fills the air, but no one but this thief and I are present. I hop to the window and start barking furiously, calling to the old man to help. Thieves the raccoon sits on the edge of the fence, waving goodbye to me. He seems almost as sad as I am.

We don’t drive long, and my growling doesn’t seem to bother the man. But my marking does. Oh yeah…I messed that whole back seat. Perhaps I was a little scared (I’d never admit it to anyone else), but it was possibly just because I could smell all the other messages that were left in that car. Most were scary. I knew I was in trouble.

We arrived somewhere other than my home. Things were getting confusing, and everything was happening so fast that I didn’t really know how to react. I snapped and growled, but was bagged and carried away against my will. The feeling of being carried in a sack is scary, as if you have no control over where you’re going, but you can still move. I struggle, but nothing comes of it. Then, I’m tossed carelessly away, and I find myself in free-fall. That tasty snack finds its way up before I even land.

I escape the sack and look around my new environment- four walls, no windows, and a couple of those floor sweeper things that I love to attack when the old man is brushing the floor. The only light that invades the room is the beam from the door’s bottom. Then I see them. The light reflects of another creature’s eyes. I growl a weak warning, but the creature’s response relaxes me.

“Guess they got you, too.”

The other pup sniffs me, and I sniff her. She’s a lot bigger than me. She’s one of those pups whose job is to round up sheep. I saw it on that glowing box that Izzy watches. He knows all the different types of pups. I think he said they were Boring Collies or something like that. He said they were know-it-alls.

“Well, what do you think? I don’t want to stay here, and I’m sure you wanna get back home, too,” she whispers to me. Not really an introduction, but she’s right. If I ever want to see my companion again, we have to get out of here with the quickness.

Author:

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.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Thanksgiving, But No Dogs Allowed?

There has been a lot of commotion for the past couple of days. The house has received a thorough cleaning, and the furniture has been moved around. Everything is a little unfamiliar- and I’m not sure I like it. Though I love getting a little messy from time to time, I enjoy having everything in its specific place. It makes me a little nervous when things change. It’s a feeling that doesn’t quite scare me, but does make me uncomfortable.

But today makes it all better. Christy and Izzy’s companion, Debbie, have been bringing food over to my home (and you know I love that). The air is full of tasty smells that make my mouth water, and even Izzy is drooling a bit. We’ve been trying to keep our minds off the irresistible smells by playing, but it’s proving quite difficult.

So here we two pups are, sitting in the back yard and trying not to think of what’s going on. Luckily, a very familiar car rolls up into the driveway and out pops Tim and his companion. The two of them enter the front door. And three, two, one…out exits Tim back into the yard with us. Tim turns right back around and bolts for the door- and fails entry as the door slams shut. The ill-mannered rascal hops up on the screen and starts whimpering.

“Ha! You didn’t think they were going to let you stay in there, did ya?” Izzy laughs and moved to inspect the newcomer. “Don’t ya know? No dogs allowed!”

“But, it smells so good…” Tim returns his attention to whining and scratching at the door.

“No worries, bubba. The time to enjoy will come when it comes.” Izzy inspects Tim, and then tries to start a game of “ears.” Izzy loves to grab your ears and tug on them until you give. It’s a fun game for him, but it’s hard for me to get ahold of his ears, since he stands well over my nose.
Tim resists at first, but starts wrestling back. Taking advantage of the situation, I pounce in and grab for one of Izzy’s low hanging ears. Since Tim isn’t much bigger than me, we team up against our far larger rival, and the match begins.

We wrestle around until we’ve all worn ourselves out. Eventually, Izzy gives a yelp as we tug him to the ground. “Rematch…in a few.” he wheezed. I plop down on the grass to catch my breath. The others do the same.

“You know what’s special about today?” I ask the other two after I have some breath back in my little lungs. They look at me, and the curious looks answer my question. “Our companions make plenty of food for everyone on this day. They make so much food and give it to everyone so that we remember to be thankful for what we get every day. At least, that’s what I think.”

Izzy and Tim just look at me like I’m a little crazy. “Well, what are you guys thankful for?” I ask when they don’t say anything.

“My blanket.” Tim says after a moment’s consideration. “And I like my ball, so I’m guess I’m thankful for that, too.”

“I like the glowing box with the animals in it! That means I’m thankful for it.” Izzy chimes in.

“Mama!” Thieves shouts down from the fence. He gives us a wink and hugs himself.

“Yes,” I agree with the clever rascal, “everyone should be thankful for their mamas- and papas, too.”

“Food!” Tim shouts excitedly and hops to his paws. I start to nod with a very serious look in my eyes. Food is indeed very good. Then the smell grabs my attention. The visitor, Christy, Debbie, and the old man are all standing on the porch, smiles on their faces and our food in their hands. Oh yeah, we will always be thankful for our lovable companions, too.

Author:

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.

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ROCKY ADVENTURE – Rocky and the Visitor

Today started out odd. The old man was quick to start the day. Unfortunately, it didn’t begin with me. An old room got all the attention. Though I tried to help, I was informed that I wasn’t needed for the job. The scent of freshness, perhaps to clean the room, filled the air, and even the old beast was summoned from the closet to roar across the carpet. I hate that noisy thing, but it offers a fun game when the old man lets the beast’s snout grab a powerful scent of my fur. It pulls at my skin, and I bark my fearsome roar to let the beast know who the master is of this house.

Soon enough, the room is restored to a rather comfortable style. New pillows call to me, so I jump up on the bed to grab a few afternoon Z’s. Unfortunately, that seems to be a no-no, and the old man quickly rids the bed of me. I grunt disappointingly, but consider that the couch is probably more comfortable, anyway.

My snooze is interrupted by new voices and scents. Another human is in the house. I drop down to the floor and charge the invader. The old man quiets me with a bit of hushing, and introduces me to the newcomer- and his pup. The stranger carries a crate, and within it, two beady eyes stare back at me.

“Hey!” I call to the other pup, “Who are you?”

“There are those who call me…Tim.”

The visitor speaks a bit of nonsense as he sets the crate down and releases Tim into my domain. Still unsure of what to make of this situation, I follow the curious rascal as he wanders around my home. He goes through the motions innocently enough, but then my fears have come to light when he reaches my couch. Up goes the leg, marking my territory as his own. It’s on, now!

After a bit of wrestling (all a big misunderstanding, so says Tim), both visitors are secured in the freshly cleaned room. The old man is left to decontaminate the area, using some of his cleaners to get rid of Tim’s message. They said it was just because they had a long drive and the rascal hadn’t had time to pee, but I know better. There is a big difference between taking care of business and leaving your mark. Ask any dog, they’ll tell you.

I head outside to take care of my own business…properly. I notice Thieves moving around in Christy’s yard. It’s only been a week, but the rascal has grown on me- and is quite clever, hence the name. His little hands pull the critter up so that he can see what I’m doing.

I ask him how things are going in his world, to which he replies his favorite word: mama. I’ve been teaching him how to talk, and a few words stick, but that one seems to enter every conversation. He hugs himself and waves at me. I tell him to get on back to his mama, before he gets into anymore mischief. I should have guessed that Christy would make room in her home for Thieves, since she loves animals with sincere passion.
After Thieves disappears back over the fence, I get back inside to make sure that everything is secure. The visitors have returned to the kitchen, the old man sharing a meal with his friend. Tim sat at his companion’s feet, begging. I tell him that’s not polite, but he continues. The visitor doesn’t seem to mind, and in fact instigates it by giving the boorish rascal a few strips of meat. I too want a piece, but my manners hold me fast. I’m a good pup, and I’ve been taught better than that.

After dinner, the old man sits and chats with his friend as I tail Tim through the house. He won’t be so quick as to mark again. I can tell he’s nervous, but that’s the way it needs to stay when he’s in my house.

The next morning is terrible. Messages everywhere! I sniff around the markings, trying so hard not to do the same. The old man would have to clean up even more of a mess. Then Tim emerges, a smirk on his face as though he had done a good deed. I corner the rascal, holding the culprit until the law arrives. After a few moments, the old man is there with me, trying to calm me down.

After some discussion, the visitor feels that they have worn out their welcome. At least, Tim has worn it out. They pack up and move out without complaint. Even Tim does little more than whimper from his cage. I’m a nice pup, so I give him a few hints for future use. Don’t mark in the house!

“Well, that was a bit of a mess, wasn’t it?” the old man says to me. I agree, and bark a goodbye to the visitors, hoping they aren’t coming back anytime soon.

Author:

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.

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