R is for Rocky and Rosie

 

                                                                Rocky and Rosie

    I had six kids and two of them in diapers. I'm at home and my husband calls me and says, "hey, you gotta' come down to Pet Pals and see these Boston Terrier puppies." I am thinking - "you've got to be kidding me." All I need is a puppy to potty train and clean up after. Those were my first thoughts instead of thinking about the joy a dog could bring to our home.

    I pulled the double stroller out of the suburban, put my two little ones in it and went into the pet store. There was a puppy play pen with half a dozen baby Boston Terriers scampering about. "oh my goodness, I thought." This was a play pen full of black and white adorableness! After observing for several minutes, we noticed this one little guy who kept picking on his brothers and sisters...harassing everybody. He was a gangster alright and he was the one for us. After the paperwork (and writing a check), he went into the stroller with my other two babies, and back to the house we went. Well, now I had 3 in diapers (so to speak).

    Rocky was a gem. He was house trained in three days. Yes, three. He was just the cutest little thing. He indeed brought joy to our home. He was our family pet 🖤. A few years later, we decided Rocky needed a friend. At the time, we were living in Carmel Valley. We contacted a Boston Terrier breeder from Santa Cruz, who agreed to bring a litter of pups for us to choose from. He brought a group of 6 or 7 pups into our back yard for us to observe. They were running around playing and having a blast. We noticed the smallest pup that didn't seem to mesh with the rest of the gang. She was just off to the side sitting by herself. Naturally, we were drawn to her. We held her and kept her. We named her Rosie. She didn't house train in 3 days. It seemed more like three years. She had more of a nervous and shy temperament, whereas Rocky was a "ready to go party" kind of guy. They got along beautifully.

    Rosie is now 15 years old and sadly, Rocky passed last year. He died a natural death. In the end - one early morning, he was in far too much pain. We called the vet to immediately bring him in so he wouldn't have to hurt anymore. He took his last breath in my husband's arms as he lifted Rocky out of the jeep to take him inside. This is the hardest part about having a pet.

 There is no way to measure their gift of friendship and unconditional love they give.

                                                                 Rocky in his prime