Rocky Needs Glasses: the Muttely Crew Series Part Five
By Trish Hubschman
“Guess where we’re going?” Cookie says, running into the living room. Tabitha and I are stretched out on different ends of the sofa. We look up. “To Cousin Rocky’s house.” He dances around.
Jumping up, Tabitha joins in, then stops, confused. She’s the only one of us who doesn’t know him. “Whose Cousin Rocky?” she asks Cookie., then looks at me. Yawning, I stretch both my front and back paws, then hop off the sofa. “He’s Cookie’s first cousin, though I don’t remember if it’s on his mother’s side or his father’s. He’s a great guy. You’ll love him.”
“That’s cool,” Tabitha squeals. “We get to ride in the car too. The only time I’ve done that is to go to the vet.”
I roll my eyes. Yep, and I’m stuck in that small cat carrier with her. “Just don’t step on me or kick me,” I warn.
“Cut it out, you two,” Cookie says. “We’re going to have fun.”
Tabitha did. Cramped together in the cat carrier, she kicks me, sits on me, invades my space and giggles when I tell her to move over. Janie sits in the middle. Cookie’s on one side. We’re on the other. Finally, her mother pulls to the curb in front of a house. “We’re here,” she calls out, opening the door. Cookie jumps out and runs up the front path. Tabitha and I have to wait to be carried. How is that fair? Janis slides out next, pulling our little cat house along with her, juggling us. Tabitha rams into me. “Be more careful?” I whine.
“It’s not my fault,” she snaps back.
She’s right. I’m just feeling a little cranky. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Here, Mommy,” Janie says, swinging us high in the air. Tabitha and I crash back and forth, meowing loudly in protest. Lucky for us, the woman takes our carrier. “Let the cats out, Mommy,” Janie squeaks when we’re in the house and the woman does. How wonderful it is to climb out of that plastic box!
“I want to meet Cousin Rocky,” Tabitha says, zipping past me and racing up the stairs. Cookie’s already on the second floor, dancing around happily with his cousin. Slowly, I climb the stairs. “How’s it going, Rocky?” I ask, swatting an old friend. He’s probably the nicest dog I know, besides Cookie.
Cookie answers before Rocky. “He’s been walking into walls. That’s why he’s got a cast on his shoulder.”
I didn’t see any cast at first. Walking around Rocky I see it. “What happened?” I ask.
“Ah, nothing much. I was horsing around with the kids, jumped away and hit the table.” He shrugs his good shoulder.
“It’ll be okay,’ Tabitha says.
Cookie and Rocky look at her. “That’s our new sister Tabitha,” Cookie explains. Rocky nods. “And that’s not the first time he’s hurt himself,” Cookie says to me. “Last week he had a black eye from sliding into the refrigerator.”
“The floor was slippery,” Rocky protests.
“My foot!” Cookie says to him. “You didn’t see it. “Suzie told me that you need glasses.” Suzie was a poodle down the street, Rocky’s girlfriend.
Rocky snorts. “I do not,” he says. “She just thinks I do because…because…”
“Yeah,” Cookie urges, but Rocky doesn’t have an answer.
“I think you would look real cool with glasses,” Tabitha offers, hating to be left out.
“I think you would too,” I add. Why should I be left out of this?
Rocky rolls his eyes. “But I’d be the only dog in the neighborhood with glasses.”
“So, you’ll set a fashion trend,” I offer. “Then you’ll see how many other family pets get them.”
“And you’ll see,” Cookie pushes. Rocky gives him a dirty look.
“I bet you’ll look great,” we all say again.
“And if you get them, Cookie will too,” Tabitha says.
I like that idea, but Cookie makes a face. “We have to give Rocky a hand here,” I put in. “Support him. One for all and all for one.” Cookie licks his lips, looking like he wants to jump me. I know what he’s thinking that he doesn’t need glasses. “If you get glasses, it’ll be easier for you to look for rabbits,” I say. He hadn’t thought of that. His head pops up. “And if Rocky gets them, he’ll stop walking into walls and hurting himself.”
“And maybe he’ll be able to look for rabbits with you,” Tabitha adds.
The two dogs look at each other. I have a feeling our cat logic is winning over. “What do you think?” Cookie finally asks Rocky.
“They’re snowing us,” Rocky replies. “But it would be fun to go rabbit hunting together and not get hurt walking into things. But what if the other dogs tease us?”
Cookie held his head up. “Then we tell them we’re the best rabbit catchers on the block because we wear glasses.”
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