Dogs Rock!

I’m a rock star.

Don’t let my paws and curly-white hair confuse you.

Just because I look like a stuffed animal, doesn’t mean my personality is mellow. No way! I’m a rocker, the lead singer in my own band. My first two families didn’t know this. They thought because I was a cute little puppy they could make me into a cuddly couch potato. I don’t’ like cuddling, not unless I’ve played and run a lot. I’ll curl up with my pack and nap after I’ve had a good jam session.

Barking is my thing!      Sid Vicious is my nickname. I earned it by nipping people and being a wild guy at the Petaluma Animal Shelter. But I like to think I got that name from my singing act. I like enjoying myself, gyrating, yipping, yapping, shouting, and partying every time my pack returns home. I bound, bark, and jump, adding bucking so they know I am really, really happy to see them. I’m a one-dog band.

After I have a bath, I turn into a super-charged racer. I rub myself on all the walls and the furniture. I bump up against people because I’m so glad to get out of the bathtub. I don’t like water. I don’t care if my grandparents were great swimmers, I don’t like water. Poodles and cocker spaniels all love water. Being half of each breed should make me a water dog, right?


Someone said that I have the ears of a terrier. I hear everything inside and outside the house. I must comment on anyone approaching my house. “There’s someone there! Hurry and go see.”

As for cuddling, I’m not crazy about it. I’ve learned my pack likes to pet me and hug me. It is their expression of affection. I lick their faces and hands and hope they won’t hurt me. Sometimes, I truly enjoy their massages. I groan in pleasure and roll belly up. Those are good times. But it took a while for me to learn that they were not going to hurt me. I have a fear of being squeezed too hard or pinned down.

And walking around the house is tricky, some times even dangerous. I’m fourteen pounds and being under the giants in my pack is tricky. I like staying close to my people. Yet there are times where their feet or a door comes too close, and I have to sprint away. I’ve had my paws stepped on before. I scream sometimes. They apologize. I don’t hold a grudge.

They even carry me around. I let them but I’d rather walk. Most times, I’m not given a choice they just scoop me up. I’m no longer a puppy but they don’t seem to notice. I forgive them.

They play with me, feed me and sleep with me. I’m not alone much. I’m not the kind of dog who enjoys being by myself. I follow my dog leader from room to room. I know our schedule. Mornings, we go downstairs to let me out then back up to the office. I like having a schedule. I know that I will get a breakfast, play some games and go outside everyday. My favorite thing is to ride in the car. I wear a seatbelt and sit up high to see out.

If you want to know how I got my nickname, read my story “Punk Rocker with a Poodle Brain” in Vintage Voices Four-Part Harmony.

You can read my story in Redwood Writers Vintage Voices Four-Part Harmony

5 thoughts on “Dogs Rock!

  1. Jesse says “Hi” to another kindred spirit and buckin’ bronco.
    “We may have more energy than our cuddly cousins, but we live life to it’s fullest. No one believes I’m twelve years old–must be doing something right.”


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