The old man raked up the leaves into fun piles for me to jump into. This is one of my favorite things to do, and he knows it. That’s why he makes sure the piles aren’t too big or too small. They’re just right for a good pouncing.
However, Buck was beating me to the pouncing. Because he was such a hound, his body slammed into the leaf piles and utterly destroyed them. All the work and effort the old man had put into getting things just right had been scattered to the wind.
“Stop that,” I barked. “Stop that I say, or I’ll get the madness!”
“I can’t stop!” Buck ruffed and slammed into the next pile of leaves.
The old man stopped raking and shook his head in defeat. There would be no further gathering until the chaos ceased. Fortunately, Christy had not given up yet and was still piling up the leaves on her side of the field. If I was quick enough, I might be able to get a few pounces in before Buck utterly demolished everything.
Buck was still rolling around in a nearby pile when I made a break for the piles that still remained. They were bigger than normal and not as neat, but they’ll do just fine for the fun I needed to have.
I ran. Fast. Very fast. And when I was close enough, I jumped and crunched into the leaves. Then I disappeared. The pile was too big. I chosen the best and neatest one, and it just happened to be large enough to consume the whole of me. Somewhere outside, I could hear Christy yelling at me for doing such a thing, but she can’t see me so I’m okay for now.
The leaves crunched as I shifted around through the pile, looking for a nice spot to peek out. Some parted and allowed me to see what there was to see. To one side, Christy was madly raking up some more leaves while the old man shuffled along the mess that Buck had made. But where was Buck?
“Supplies!” Buck barked as he slammed down on my pile.
The crunch of the leaves rang in my ears and I’m pretty sure my tail made the same sound as well. Maybe most of my little body did it too. And my cool hiding spot was smashed to bits, and I was left struggling to wiggle out from beneath Buck the behemoth. When I was finally free, I darted to the next pile to hide. But it was no use. Buck smashed that one too.
Eventually, there were no more piles to smash and I was left laying in the grass in defeat. Both Christy and the old man had slumped their shoulders and were leaving us pups outside to enjoy our mess. Indeed it was a mess. And the bad part about it all…I didn’t even get to have fun doing it!
Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories. Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky, Nixi, and Dante 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 adventures.