 Rocky smells biscuits
ROCKY’S COOKIES.
For my wife one of life’s little luxuries is to have once a week for a few hours a cleaning lady. Sue a hard working little woman with a smiley face is new to the house but she was chosen partly because she had said that she was used to all sorts of dogs. Indeed she does seem to get on well with our two - the Heinzie 57 terrier and Rocky the Rottweiler.
During her third visit I was having my breakfast when I sensed something was not quite right – where were the dogs? I quietly snuck back to the lounge to see what was going on. There was Jenna, following along “doing cleaning” but standing there also was Rocky who should by now have been lying on his bed. But No, he was watching very carefully the tube of the vacuum cleaner and I knew exactly what was in his mind. He had found a new playmate in this cleaning lady. Any minute he was going to take the tube away from her and I could see it in his eyes. Of course, she would not have been capable of stopping him. And worse, forever more, he was going to play with her every time she got the vacuum out of the cupboard.
I called out “Oi! – you – BEHAVE” as I am won’t to do and meekly he looked up at me and lay down. But oddly he did not make a move to leave the room – after all he makes the mess, he never cleans it up. I thought for a moment that was it – problem solved, so I left and went back to my cereals.
Shortly afterwards there was another odd sound and I crept back to the lounge. There was Sue giving both Rocky and Jenna a biscuit which she had taken from the pouch of her apron. I suddenly realised that she had a pocket full of biscuits slung around her tummy. I asked her and she confirmed that she had specifically brought the biccies to make friends with the dogs. I looked over to Rocky – he knew only too well, probably from the slight scent wafting from the pouch, that this new cleaning lady was a walking biscuit barrel.
I immediately had this vision of Rocky up on his hind legs, both front legs wrapped around Sue’s waist with his muzzle buried deep within the pouch of her apron. He would undoubtedly snuffle and snuffle until the last crumb of biscuit was gone. I wasn’t quite sure how Sue might take that rather forward approach. If she took it the wrong way, the next thing I would hear is that Rocky had been summonsed for sexual harassment. That big broad gaping pouch was just not a place for any male to reach down in, let alone put his nose into. I had another vision of my standing in the dock saying – “t’wasn’t his fault, Me Lud – it was her fault for leading him on with the scent of cookie”.
I took Sue to one side and explained: – yes, she could give him one biscuit when she arrived but that under no circumstances was she to give him any more. Her best hope was that Rocky would take a small entrance fee , then go back to his bed, nod off and leave her to get on with the job of cleaning up after him. I did not attempt to paint a picture of what might be the alternative scenario. It’s best she doesn’t know.
Rocky Dog's Dad | 
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