At the breakfast table on Sunday I was quite surprised to see nearly an entire plateful of food on the floor. Was our four legged voracious vacuum cleaner still sleeping? Typically Rocco seizes falling food before it has a chance to land on the floor but on this day our ravenous furry friend was not at his usual post.
I had no intention of cleaning up the atrocious mess myself (my kids have got to be the messiest eaters ever) so I went on a quick sweep through the house to rouse our lazy dog into keeping up his end of the bargain when it comes to mealtime cleanup.
Panic set in as we realized that Rocco was no where to be found. Roger remembered letting him out earlier so we ran to call him in, hoping he was rolling in bird poop or consuming another animal’s waste and was simply too busy and content to come inside. This was definitely unusual behavior for Rocco though – unless it’s 90+ degrees outside he makes minimal trips outside to do his business and is begging to return to the warmth of the house within mere seconds of being out in the cold, rainy weather.
But one look outside and we found the one allure that will entice Rocco to stay outdoors and investigate – the back gate was wide open…
Darn! I was going to have to find my elusive broom (I can’t remember when I used it last) and sweep that floor myself if we don’t find the dog soon. We gathered up the little kids in their PJs and split up to find our runaway.
Roger and Riley went on foot and I went in the car – assured by this point that Rocco would have been run over on either 135th or Scholls Ferry. I missed our little Billy Dog already and all the joy that he has brought into our lives (specifically his ability to meticulously mop our floor after each meal) and our life with Rocco quickly began to manifest like a documentary in my poignant thoughts.
Almost 6 years ago when our family consisted of only three we had a tradition of eating at McMenamins on Friday nights and our weekly ritual always ended with a trip to the pet store to ooh and aah over all the adorable puppies confined in small little cages, all vying for our attention. Despite our concern for all these caged puppies Riley never asked to bring a dog home and Roger and I remained steadfast in our desire to preserve our “dog-free” house.
Everything changed one fateful Friday night when we met an endearing dapple miniature Dachshund with huge paws that dwarfed his small body, complete with one blue eye and one brown eye. We all immediately fell in love with this charming little puppy who was full of spunk and genuinely happy to have a few coveted moments of play time outside his cage.
We left for the evening and returned home without a word about this dog that we had all obviously fallen in love with. My firm opinion about a dog-free house was slowly wavering and I thought about him often that week… what would our life be like if we brought this dog into our home?
The next week the ritual continued and despite our sadness at seeing this poor dog in a cage I was delighted to see the dapple mini Dachshund still at the pet store. This time he was sleeping and we had to arouse him to play with us. That night when I tucked Riley into bed we talked about the Dachshund and how much fun it would be to bring him home. We named him Rocco even though we knew the possibility of making him part of our family was pretty minimal.
We continued to play with Rocco at the pet store the following week and by this point we had all openly talked about how much we missed this little guy between visits and we found ourselves anxious each week wondering if he’d still be around.
We were undoubtedly attached to Rocco. After a lengthy discussion of the responsibilities that came with a dog Riley promised wholeheartedly to take on all the chores and even offered to pay for him using his own savings. Riley and I begged Roger and he reluctantly gave in stating that he would have no part in his upbringing. While that might have been enough for Riley I was not about to partake in this adventure unless Roger was completely invested in the decision. I didn’t want his halfhearted approval – I wanted him to be excited and devoted to this dog. But Roger was attached to Rocco as well and he finally agreed that he would be a family dog and we would all participate in his daily care and upbringing.
Off to the pet store we went – with much anticipation and enthusiasm (and a little bit of fear that just possibly this dog who had been at the pet store for nearly 5 weeks would now be gone). When we walked in we saw another family playing with him so we raced to the counter to buy him. Just as we were completing the paper work we overheard the other family mention that Rocco was the dog they would take home. My heart sank… I began to panic but my brain automatically went into fight mode. I was not going to let this dog get away – we had already planned our lives with Rocco and I could feel it all slipping away. I confidently announced that we had already purchased the Dachshund and after some brief whispering between the husband and wife they left the store obviously disgruntled. I didn’t feel one bit bad and shortly felt justified in my persistence when they returned a few minutes later and decided to take a miniature schnauzer home.
Rocco was ours and he turned out to be the perfect dog for us. He sleeps like a true Gronke until the late morning, often early afternoon hours on the weekends. He didn’t skip a beat when we brought home two additional Gronke children over the years. He even genuinely thinks that our disgruntled cat wants to play when she is actually attempting to hurt Rocco when she was hisses and bats at him.
As I continued to drive through the blocks of our neighborhood desperately praying for a safe return my thoughts turned from remembering our life with Rocco to wondering how we would all endure life without him. Riley would be devastated. Hope had already announced that we should get a big dog if we couldn’t find Rocco so I was sure she was already over the potential loss of our beloved friend. And Nico would be too little to comprehend the loss but he spends a fair amount of time sharing meals with Rocco (both dog food and people food) and showing his love by sitting on him, pulling his tail and ears and following our tolerant Rocco all through the house - so I was a bit worried he might turn to our intolerant cat to show his affection, which would surely result in another trip to the hospital. Rocco was the perfect match for us – a member of our family that simply could not be replaced. I was over the fact that I would have to sweep my floor after each meal and I was now genuinely fearing for Rocco’s life.
But it was not time for Rocco to leave us… A neighbor saw him slowly making his way to the park and leashed him up out front of her house until his rightful owners came by to claim him. Rocco was welcomed back with lots of hugs and kisses and lectures from us all (especially from Hope) about how dangerous it was “out on the streets” and how we just couldn’t stand to think about life without him.
Rocco immediately settled back in at home – meticulously cleaning my kitchen floor after each meal, sleeping until noon, and tolerantly letting Nico torture him relentlessly each day.
I had no intention of cleaning up the atrocious mess myself (my kids have got to be the messiest eaters ever) so I went on a quick sweep through the house to rouse our lazy dog into keeping up his end of the bargain when it comes to mealtime cleanup.
Panic set in as we realized that Rocco was no where to be found. Roger remembered letting him out earlier so we ran to call him in, hoping he was rolling in bird poop or consuming another animal’s waste and was simply too busy and content to come inside. This was definitely unusual behavior for Rocco though – unless it’s 90+ degrees outside he makes minimal trips outside to do his business and is begging to return to the warmth of the house within mere seconds of being out in the cold, rainy weather.
But one look outside and we found the one allure that will entice Rocco to stay outdoors and investigate – the back gate was wide open…
Darn! I was going to have to find my elusive broom (I can’t remember when I used it last) and sweep that floor myself if we don’t find the dog soon. We gathered up the little kids in their PJs and split up to find our runaway.
Roger and Riley went on foot and I went in the car – assured by this point that Rocco would have been run over on either 135th or Scholls Ferry. I missed our little Billy Dog already and all the joy that he has brought into our lives (specifically his ability to meticulously mop our floor after each meal) and our life with Rocco quickly began to manifest like a documentary in my poignant thoughts.
Almost 6 years ago when our family consisted of only three we had a tradition of eating at McMenamins on Friday nights and our weekly ritual always ended with a trip to the pet store to ooh and aah over all the adorable puppies confined in small little cages, all vying for our attention. Despite our concern for all these caged puppies Riley never asked to bring a dog home and Roger and I remained steadfast in our desire to preserve our “dog-free” house.
Everything changed one fateful Friday night when we met an endearing dapple miniature Dachshund with huge paws that dwarfed his small body, complete with one blue eye and one brown eye. We all immediately fell in love with this charming little puppy who was full of spunk and genuinely happy to have a few coveted moments of play time outside his cage.
We left for the evening and returned home without a word about this dog that we had all obviously fallen in love with. My firm opinion about a dog-free house was slowly wavering and I thought about him often that week… what would our life be like if we brought this dog into our home?
The next week the ritual continued and despite our sadness at seeing this poor dog in a cage I was delighted to see the dapple mini Dachshund still at the pet store. This time he was sleeping and we had to arouse him to play with us. That night when I tucked Riley into bed we talked about the Dachshund and how much fun it would be to bring him home. We named him Rocco even though we knew the possibility of making him part of our family was pretty minimal.
We continued to play with Rocco at the pet store the following week and by this point we had all openly talked about how much we missed this little guy between visits and we found ourselves anxious each week wondering if he’d still be around.
We were undoubtedly attached to Rocco. After a lengthy discussion of the responsibilities that came with a dog Riley promised wholeheartedly to take on all the chores and even offered to pay for him using his own savings. Riley and I begged Roger and he reluctantly gave in stating that he would have no part in his upbringing. While that might have been enough for Riley I was not about to partake in this adventure unless Roger was completely invested in the decision. I didn’t want his halfhearted approval – I wanted him to be excited and devoted to this dog. But Roger was attached to Rocco as well and he finally agreed that he would be a family dog and we would all participate in his daily care and upbringing.
Off to the pet store we went – with much anticipation and enthusiasm (and a little bit of fear that just possibly this dog who had been at the pet store for nearly 5 weeks would now be gone). When we walked in we saw another family playing with him so we raced to the counter to buy him. Just as we were completing the paper work we overheard the other family mention that Rocco was the dog they would take home. My heart sank… I began to panic but my brain automatically went into fight mode. I was not going to let this dog get away – we had already planned our lives with Rocco and I could feel it all slipping away. I confidently announced that we had already purchased the Dachshund and after some brief whispering between the husband and wife they left the store obviously disgruntled. I didn’t feel one bit bad and shortly felt justified in my persistence when they returned a few minutes later and decided to take a miniature schnauzer home.
Rocco was ours and he turned out to be the perfect dog for us. He sleeps like a true Gronke until the late morning, often early afternoon hours on the weekends. He didn’t skip a beat when we brought home two additional Gronke children over the years. He even genuinely thinks that our disgruntled cat wants to play when she is actually attempting to hurt Rocco when she was hisses and bats at him.
As I continued to drive through the blocks of our neighborhood desperately praying for a safe return my thoughts turned from remembering our life with Rocco to wondering how we would all endure life without him. Riley would be devastated. Hope had already announced that we should get a big dog if we couldn’t find Rocco so I was sure she was already over the potential loss of our beloved friend. And Nico would be too little to comprehend the loss but he spends a fair amount of time sharing meals with Rocco (both dog food and people food) and showing his love by sitting on him, pulling his tail and ears and following our tolerant Rocco all through the house - so I was a bit worried he might turn to our intolerant cat to show his affection, which would surely result in another trip to the hospital. Rocco was the perfect match for us – a member of our family that simply could not be replaced. I was over the fact that I would have to sweep my floor after each meal and I was now genuinely fearing for Rocco’s life.
But it was not time for Rocco to leave us… A neighbor saw him slowly making his way to the park and leashed him up out front of her house until his rightful owners came by to claim him. Rocco was welcomed back with lots of hugs and kisses and lectures from us all (especially from Hope) about how dangerous it was “out on the streets” and how we just couldn’t stand to think about life without him.
Rocco immediately settled back in at home – meticulously cleaning my kitchen floor after each meal, sleeping until noon, and tolerantly letting Nico torture him relentlessly each day.
Rocco Star… he’s oh so cute (isn’t he?) and really, the perfect Gronke dog. And today we celebrated Rocco's 6th birthday with lots of hugs and dog treats - all very happy to have him back home!!
So why no mention of his jewels Roger refuses to remove or the incessant humping of your sister's legs? xoxoxo Glad you found little roccobilly!
ReplyDeleteRocco - The Runaway Dog with Balls!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteSheez! I don't mind the narrative at all, not at all, soooo sweet. But dang, I thought it was moving toward a eulogy, I was sick the whole way through. Now, I need a drink.
ReplyDelete