Resi in a Sock

Rocky in a sock is much funnier than Resi in a sock.  I suppose this is some kind of Karma thing.  I'm not a fan of Karma.  I get it.  I made fun of him.  He walked funny.  It was mean.  But really?  Really?  Two Socks?  Come On, Man!

Rocky Yockey cannot Walk in a Sock

Coolest thing E V E R.  A cat came in our yard.  Not my cat.  Another cat.  I've seen this cat before.  He chases my cat.  But this time his timing was bad because Rocky and I were outside helping Dad with the yardwork. 

Boy howdy was that cat fast.  But here is the thing, I didn't know cats could swim.  I used to get in the fish ponds and have a swim, but Mom told me that was 'bad dog'.  Nobody told the cat it was 'bad dog'.  So just when Rocky and I almost had him, he jumped right into the pond.  I still would have got him, if it wouldn't have been 'bad dog' to get in the pond too.

So I got Rocky and sent him to the other side of the pond.  I waited on my side.  The cat got on the island in the middle of the pond.  Bummer.  Then Mom came out and made us come in the house so the cat could go home.  Wet cold and shivering, but uneaten.

But somehow Rocky hurt his toe.  I don't want to be mean about it, but they taped a sock on his foot and now he can't walk.  Seriously, can not walk.  He moves about a bit, but he has to kick that sock out behind him like he is a Rockette, not a Rocky.  It is sad.   Bahhahahahahahahah. 

Adoptaversary

I just had my fifth adoptaversary.  I'm not even exactly sure what that means, but Mom says it means I have lived here for 5 years now.  I don't know what a year is.  Mom says, a long time.  I think it is a long time from when Mom leaves for work in the morning and Dad comes home.   So...I really don't get the time thing.

But I've been living here for a long time.  Rocky got here after me, so I get to make the rules and have special privileges he doesn't get.  Like I get to get on the couch when mom is in the room, but Rocky never does.  And I get to sleep with the people, but Rocky only gets on the bed when we are alone...not in a dirty way, stop thinking like that.

We went to the lure course for my adoptaversary even though it wasn't really on the day.  I didn't care.  I LLLOOOOVVE the lure course.  I was sore and tired afterwards though.  Mom says this is because of something called middle age.  It sucks.  She agrees.

Rocky and I got spaghetti sauce on our food too.  Not sure why he got some since it wasn't his adoptaversary.  Mom says his is about the same time, but it is only 4 years.  I win again.

I remember my foster mom and dad.  They were super cool too.  But I'm happy to be home with Mom now.  Life is good.

I Don't Whine

OMG!  I saw mom's post earlier about me whining at the door.  That is ridiculous.  She's asleep now, and I heard she isn't working tomorrow, so I have to defend myself right now.

But first, in Rocky's defense, he never whines either.   I have never in my doggy life seen another dog so frustrated with his inability to speak human talk in my life.  I don't get it.  People yak yak yak all the time but I never hear much worth saying.  Rocky seems to want to participate in all that.  He barks, he growls, he grumbles, he wooooos....he woos....he woooos....wtf is a woooooo anyway?  But that is what he does.  And he jumps around while he is wooooing, just in case you didn't hear him or something. 

But he doesn't whine.  I've seen him get his toenails cut, wear a stupid sock, bang his head, get yelled at, poop blood...but never whine.  So I have no idea why mom would think he was whining tonight.

And I wasn't whining either.  I was just politely trying to get mom's attention.  It was late.  It was dark.  It would be rude to bark.  I don't scratch or claw on doors, that would be bad dog.  I was lying on the couch when mom went to bed.  I wasn't in with Brandon.  I like to sleep with Brandon, but not tonight.  I just didn't get up fast enough to move to the bedroom when she shut off the lights and moved rooms.

So there I was.  The door to the pool was open.  I had two choices.  I could go to the door and shove my toes under it and make quiet polite noises to get her attention or I could go to the window and hope she saw me with some quiet polite noises.  Next thing I know she is on the floor hugging Rocky and acting like I'm not even there. 

I finally get her attention and then she accuses me, publically, on Facebook of "whining". 

I'm just going to go curl back up in bed.  I hope she has the sleep number set the way I like it.  Life is so hard around here.  I wonder how many bones I can take to bed with me???

Resi