A/N: hello readers.
IM BAAAACK.
And a new chap has arrived!
Pardon the lateness. I got into other fandoms, and I discovered discord, so 80% of my time is there and tumblr. SO MUCH has happened during these past months, both good and bad, so it's been a new chapter of my life I've entered and adjusted.
I also wanna say thanks for being so patient! Even though I haven't updated in one year (Jesus Christ) I still see reviews coming in and PM's bout my work! You guys are fucking dedicated ;-; So here's something nice and long.
COMMENTS
NaluDragonRage – oh no don't give on me~~~ I'm still writing this! I wont stop
Robloxmaster225 – yeah, life hit me like a whirlwind. But glad I've sparked your interest new reader!
Anonymous – I'm blushing! Thanks for your kind words (This is probably not the best, but I do believe my writing style is strong)
Galaxycat2405– aww thanks! And yeah I grew fond of her full name
LucasTheHybird24 – Oh noooo. Whelp, Chase's story is arguably the most tragic (but there are other ones we'll know soon that are pretty high in the angst category)
Guest – lol that's the point to bring you to tears
SharpDragonKlaw – thanks!
desgabiuz – muchosgracias.
Ace the new pup – to be revealed in either this or next chapter! Also, Skye and Ryder make an appearance.
Guest – Thank you
JetSet1980 –His reasoning behind his aquaphobia will be revealed in this chapter!
Guest – haha yeah he is! It's odd cause he's surrounded with nature, but has a love for fire and burning/blowing things up. Irony of it all.
And yes! Glad you caught that reference.
marcogalmich – yeah, Rocky has quite an active family.
And I'm so happy that I've helped you and gave some encouragement. Really, this has been such a thoughtful comment you almost made me cry. I totally understand how the online family can help through troubled times.
I hope you, your family and friends are safe down there. Sending love.
The Not-So-Ultimate Writer – you're getting ahead haha. Yes, I have a sequel planned, but again not for awhile.
To your newer comment, haha yes, it IS a scar. But the origins of it shall be revealed later.
Deathruler862 – Lol yeah for sure it's hill-billy! A complete contrast to the fancy polished arc of Skye's. For Tracker I do have something for him, but it won't be revealed...yet.
R.L. Chathouse – This is part one of the PPO series I'm writing for. As we're currently in the past time, I'll eventually move onto the present one (like the one in the show).
And don't worry I won't. Tracker's story is relevant to future fics I have planned.
Daisy Rhime – aww, thanks hun!
Enfreakomoron – Haha yeah Hunter is a cutie. Unfortunately Rocky didn't pick up any of his natural charisma from his father. XD
By the way, I've always liked your name! Make me laugh.
Zuma Lover – All the questions you asked are answered in chapter 17. And no, Zuma didn't grow up with Rocky, but he does know his family personally. Their friendship will be more fleshed out in Zuma's story.
Sammuelsmwong – thank you ^^
Robloxmaster225 – appreciate the enthusiasm!
TechWolf2.0 – haha thank you. And funny you have a southern accent too. Hope I made your people proud.
Yeah, I realized we haven't had much Rocky or Zuma dialogue for the last three stories, so here they are, coming in full blast! Everyone gets their time to shine.
And aww, really? I'm glad someone liked it lol
Mdmpinkie9088 – thanks for the mega compliments! Glad you consider this a top story in your books ^^ And surprised people are eager to read Ryder's! I find him kinda dull sometimes haha
Mattwurm99 – lool oh no! Sweetie is like a pup in present timeline, and this was before the pups were born (well, most of them). That would literally make no sense.
And if curious I would add her…I don't know. I haven't thought of it. I have no real reason to put her in, but I've been playing around with the idea, and I'm kinda on board with it.
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It was a usual day of farming in the McKay household. Bright and early, near the crack of dawn, everyone was up.
Mr. McKay, Gizmo and Hunter were prepping themselves for the daily ride to the fields, all while Mrs. McKay and Buttercup took care of the farm animals and gardens.
As Hunter was drinking the last of his water before heading outside in the morning chill air, something tugged at his bottom leg.
Hunter smiled as he whirled back. "Yes Rocky?"
The tiny pup, only four weeks old, stared questionably at his father. His light grey fur was full and bright, sprouting a dark spot on his left eye. His eyes were an exact replica of his mother's, an orange hue, with curiosity etched deeply in his puppy face.
Rocky now tugged his father's arm, and Hunter filled in the gaps of Rocky's actions.
"Ya know I have to go to the fields again Rocky."
"…Why?"
"Because my son, that's what we gotta do. It's our job."
He still didn't look satisfied with that answer. "Why?"
"Because it just is. We all gotta do our part in this family."
"Who?"
"All of us. Your grandpa, your ma, may-self, Mr. McKay –"
"When?"
"Well, everyday."
"Why?"
This time Hunter laughed, "Oh Rocky, ya ask so many questions! Trust me son, I'll answer em' all when I get back."
Rocky pouted in dismay, and Hunter thought his son looked incredibly adorable. "When?" the pup returned sourly.
"When I get home, around six." And before he could ask another, Hunter affectionately rubbed his son's head. Now while all parents believed their children were brilliant, Hunter had no doubt in his mind his son truly was. Barely was already talking and asking questions at a stage where pups were barely saying mama or papa.
"Now be good, and help your ma and Mrs. McKay 'round the farm. Yur mom's still sick, so they're gonna need their little helper."
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It was a weekend, and while work persisted into Saturdays, the intensity of it was surely cut in half.
Buttercup was happily tending to her garden, keeping track of the vegetables' growth. At this time of day she would usually bathe her pup (which was a difficult thing to do), but Hunter had insisted he would tackle this on his own today. She didn't argue with him, and the two went inside as she remained outdoors with her garden.
Her gardening was something she neglected after Rocky's birth, and while that was expected, the recovery process took much longer than she had thought. In truth she had a tough pregnancy and became fairly ill after birthing Rocky. She was bed-ridden for three weeks, broke out into deadly fevers, and lost a ton of weight. She missed crucial weeks to nurture Rocky, but thankfully her family took on the job, especially Mama Fran, who made sure Rocky was nursed with milk. While it ached her she couldn't really attend to her pup or garden for awhile, she's now become healthy again to attend to her farm and motherly duties.
An hour passed, and still was no sign of her two boys. Buttercup was mildly concerned, but tried to remain positive. Perhaps they're just having a bubble bath and having fun.
Satisfied with the data she had collected about her plants, Buttercup ventured into the house with her newly collected stats.
"Biscuits!" she almost passed out at the sight of her pup, literally covered head to toe in mud, standing innocently in the country-themed hallway. He was contently playing with a mud ball in his paws, trying to sculpt it to some type of structure.
She approached him cautiously. "Ah, Rocky sweetie…why are you covered in mud? Wasn't your father supposed to bathe you?"
He smiled messily, pointing outside to the mud pile near the barn.
"Papa." He said simply.
"Papa." She repeated, and suddenly it all made sense. "Where is your father Rocky?"
He shrugged.
Buttercup observed the mess. The floor had dirty paw print marks, somehow there was mud inside, as if someone picked up a bucket and dumped its contents all over the wood. It was literally gonna take hours to clean this mess!
Suddenly – "Rocky!" Hunter came storming in; he too covered in mud, though not as nearly messy as his son. "The pigs are back in the pen so if we hurry and clean this mess here we'll have time to bathe without anyone –" he froze. "Oh, hello love."
"H-Hunter?! She was dumbstruck. "What happened here?!"
Someone startled by his mate's tone, he grinned nervously. "Ah, ya see," a laughter followed. "Rocky didn't really wanna bathe cause he wasn't done playing with the pigs, and ya know, Imma so busy with farming I thought why nawt I play with him before we get cleaned up? And ah, we took longer than I thought and made more mess than I was bettin' on…"
She looked back with a deadpan look.
"Look, Papa Joe and Mama Fran don't need ta know." He replied.
"And they won't know." She pursed her muzzle in disapproval, now eying her son. "And you encouraged this Rocky?"
Surprisingly, he agreed with a head bob. "Don't like baths!" He said honestly.
"Oh goodness." She shook her head, a smile on her face. "You and your papa."
"I take baths!" Hunter defended. "Besides, we live on a farm love. We get dirty real quick anyway."
With a quiet sigh, she said, "Go bathe Rocky while I clean up the mess out here."
Hunter complied, but Rocky surely didn't. His father dragged the grumpy pup to the bathroom.
Not even a minute passed when Buttercup heard Hunter yelping from the bathroom door.
"Hold still son! Seriously, yur gonna make me – Oomph!" Hunter fell face first into the tub, his whole body sinking in. He popped his head back out, spitting out water he accidently drank.
Rocky bounced like a rocket, sprinting out into the hallway.
From the door Hunter heard his mate giggling at the hilarity of it all.
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"Ah, that's it Hunter! Now bring dem' back boy."
The Border Collie grunted, and with his wit, was able to round up the last of the sheep into the barn.
Gizmo was absent, an extremely rare occasion, and only because he got a cold and Mama Fran refused for him to go back on the fields in his condition. She and Papa Joe were the only ones that made Gizmo listen to some type of reasoning.
Hunter jumped into the truck's front seat, and seconds later, the vehicle roared awake.
Hunter pepped at his owner, noticing his grimace. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Ah, just the recent rains have been higher than usual." He sighed. "Aah just hope no flash floods come anytime soon."
Hunter recalled the last one happen three months before he met Buttercup. It wasn't the biggest, but it surely did damage to some farmers in the area. They were lucky they avoided most of the flooding that time.
"Well if it does come, we'll be ready." Hunter reassured. "We can always get those drainage systems."
"Aah wish." He said. "But they mighty expensive. And the installation fees are off the roof."
Hunter knew that already. But hopefully the thing he and his father have been working on would help out in some way.
"Don't worry." Hunter smiled up. "Me and Pops got somethin' in store."
"Yur workin' together?" Papa Joe laughed. "Gosh it's like snow in the middle of summer."
"Tell me about it."
The truck stopped, reaching the farmhouse. Both males got out.
"Now, where de' go?"
"Who?"
"Rocky. I thought he'll be playin' out here when we came back."
"Haha, Aah would think so too. But Imma thinkin' he's watching Old Gizmo in the barn 'gain."
"Again?"
"Haha, yup. He likes watching his grandpa work."
"And my Pa ain't…annoyed by that?"
"Nawt at all Hunter. Why, Gizmo loves it! He rants how ya were like that when ya were a pup, but Aah reckon Rocky's mighty into it." Papa Joe lit up a cigar. "Maybe he's gotta thing for tinkering. Kinda runs in our family."
Hunter contemplated that timid of info.
Huh…it did make sense. All those questions Rocky asked, never once interrupting when people working…perhaps that inventor gene did course through their dog veins.
"Wait, isn't Pa supposed to be resting –"
Papa Joe huffed. "Ya would think. We know that stubborn dog. Probably ran off when my wife wasn't looking."
Hunter snickered. "She's probably gonna call him in three, two, one – "
"GIZMO! GET YOUR BUM BACK TA BED!"
Both males shock their head in amusement. How typical.
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From the moment he told Rocky to follow him after they finished dinner, Hunter was bombarded with questions. The young father had to force his mouth shut from revealing too much of the surprise.
"Don't worry Rocky. We're getting there."
The pup looked upward to his father. He was now a bit older. "We're going to Grandpa's shed?"
"Nope." They finally stopped, arriving at an obscure looking shed connected to the barn at the back. He pushed open the door, and gestured Rocky inside.
"This one…is mine."
Rocky's little eyes widened in disbelief. Sure, the place was smaller, but it had all the familiar signs of a tinkerer. Scraps were everywhere, half-built objects laid about, endless arrays of paper and drafting tools. But one thing was strikingly obvious.
He crinkled his nose. "Why's it dusty in here?"
Hunter laughed. "Ehh, I don't go in here as often as I should, and I don't clean. I also don't like it when anyone else cleans mah junk."
"Does Papa make anything in here?" Rocky began observing some of the contraptions on the low-ridden table.
"When I was pup I did, and then I stopped for 'while." He nodded in thought. "But now that Imma older, I'm workin' on stuff for the farm. Been doin' that a lot since you came into the picture."
His silence allowed him to continue.
"But this one," Hunter gestured to something covered in a dirty white cloth, and swiftly, he pulled off the drape with his paw. "Is a personal project of mine."
What stood in front of the two dogs was a mechanical skeleton of some sort, connected with wires and various bolts other metal objects. It was nowhere near completion, barely scraping the surface of its beginning, but the framework looked like –
Rocky's mouth gasped. "You're building a robot?!"
"Kinda. Kinda nawt. I like doing things at random. Yur grandpa would trya tell me to plan everythin' but ugh, I hated that. Sometimes the best ideas come sporadically. That's how I made all mah inventions."
Rocky was absolutely marveled at what he was seeing. It was clear he wanted to touch and understand every single wire.
"Yur grandpa loves scraping, fixing things up old things and makin' them better. And while I love that too, I like to be more…adventurous. Make things from the bottom up. This is my first project of actually making somethin' from scratch. I had to make dem blue prints, cause it's a lot of testing out then planning, then testing out again. It's taking awhile, but heh, Imma no rush."
"What's the robot gonna do?"
"Help around the farm. I want to develop it fully into something that can do housework, errands, that type of stuff."
"Is it gonna be a big robot?"
"Who knows. I'll decide when it happens."
"Can I help?"
Hunter's ears twitched at that mention. "Ya wanna help me?"
Rocky nodded vigorously. "I help Grandpa." He said, as if proving his worth.
Hunter smiled. "Ya don't need to ask twice Rocky. Of course you can help! You can be my little helper."
The pup's tail wagged happily.
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"No! No! No! I don't want this!"
Hunter's ears wiggled at the shouting. He was returning from the fields when seeing his mate and son on the porch, and ooh, his son didn't look happy.
"Sweetie," Buttercup tried to reason, "Don't be upset. Please, try to understand it's a good thing."
He didn't hear his son's reply, but right after, Rocky ran away from his mother, heading to the barn.
When the truck made a stop he and Gizmo went to her. "What happened?" he asked.
She sighed with a tired smile. "I told him."
"Oh shucks." Gizmo was always vocal with his opinions. "He didn't take that mighty well."
"Not at all Papa…" Buttercup pouted. "I told him as he was helping me with the garden, and I was thinking since he loved doing it, the news wouldn't blow so hard."
"Well if you want Butters I can – "
"Don't worry Pa." Hunter lifted his paw, already walking in the direction to his runaway son. "I got this."
Strolling along, he eventually found his son sitting at the opening of the barn door, playing with a contraption he and Gizmo built together.
"Hey son." Hunter casually sat beside him.
Rocky didn't respond.
"So…a little birdie told me you know you're gonna be a big brother."
Rocky made a face.
"What's wrong?" he laughed, looking at him with an arching brow. "Not excited?"
He shook his head.
"Why Rocks?"
"Cause it's weird." He said, as if it was a fact. "I don't want little pups running around bothering me."
"Guess that could be a problem. But ya can always call me, yur ma or grandpa to take them away if they get too much."
"Maybe…"
He saw his son's hesitance. That was his opening. "What's really bothering you Rocks?"
"Mama and Papa won't love me anymore!" He shouted, all composure gone, "Or Grandpa!"
He titled his head. "What makes you think that?"
"Cause I'm not the only pup anymore. I'm gonna have to share you guys." He grumbled. "I don't like change."
"Ah." Silence came upon them, yet Hunter replied, "Rocky, just because yur ma and I are having more pups doesn't mean we'll love you less. Love doesn't mean getting less of the pie. It's endless."
Rocky contemplated.
"I know it's gonna be a big change 'round here, but trust me, it's good change. Besides, we're gonna need all the help we can get, especially from you."
"Help?" that perked the pup's interest.
"Righty."
"So being a big brother…is that a lot of –res…responsibility?"
He chuckled lightly. Ever since Rocky started reading, pup just loved it when he used big words. "It is Rocky."
"So I gotta protect the pups?"
"Yup. Just like I would do for you and yur ma. Because family always comes first."
Rocky silently nudged closer to his dad, shoving his face into his chest.
"I wanna stay on the farm." Rocky mumbled into his fur, "Don't ever want to leave."
Hunter was surprised. "You wanna take over my job?"
He sniffled. "Yeah."
"Ha, that would be nice. Plus with the other pups coming in, you'll never be alone. They can help you."
"Can I boss them around?"
This time Hunter boomed out a laugh. "Guess ya can! You can even teach them whatever you want them to know. You're a very smart pup Rocky. They're gonna have such an amazing brother."
Rocky's tail wagged. "I want to teach them how to build stuff." He said.
"There ya go!"
"And I want you to teach me more too Papa. If I'm gonna be a big brother, then I…I have to know everything!"
"Of course Rocks. Hey, how bout we do a joint session of tinkering? You, yur grandpa, and I? Won't that be fun? We can do it after supper."
Rocky's eyes lit at that prospect. He smiled excitedly.
"But know this, just cause one day yur gonna inherit my role and stuff doesn't mean Imma be sittin' in a lawn chair. I'll still help 'round, just like my pa does. Buuuut…" he grinned. "Imma not gonna be as bitter and grumpy as yur Grandpa over there."
"Eh! Aah heard that!"
Hunter and Rocky laughed.
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And that's when we met Zuma!"
"Heh?" the old dog blinked. All were seated at the table, midway with their meals.
"Yup!" Scout beamed, "I remember it like it was yesterday!"
"We were no where near that part." Rocky frowned. "Zuma doesn't even come in till two years later."
"But Zuma's the best part of any story! Right Zuma?"
"He makes any story cool." Ash mumbled shyly as he bit into his food. Even Ziggy nodded silently.
"Ugh, pups, don't buff his ego." Rocky shook his head. "It's already big enough."
Zuma mocked hurt on his face. "Nonsense."
Lunch was going over smoothly. Mama Fran knew how to feed her family well, with hearty soups and corn. The triplets as usual were the loudest at the table, now yelling or arguing about silly things, and Zuma (the ever so "good" role model) joined in. Rocky kept trying to settle the table to no avail, ending up with Mama Fran using her stern western voice to silence everyone. Old Gimzo kept laughing to himself mostly, having one-sided conversations. That was both amusing and concerning.
Once it finished, the pups were expected to do their afternoon chores, and cause Rocky was present, decided to help out. Since Zuma came up here so frequency (arguably the same times as Rocky does), he kinda got used to this farm-like environment, and figured he could adjust to helping. But doing things unconventionally by riding a pig wasn't getting approval from Rocky, so he was left to his own devices. Zuma wanted to bother Nibbles, but the damn cat was nowhere to be seen. Figures.
He ventured back into the living room, and literally nothing changed since the previous visit. Heck, not even since the first time he came up the arrangement of the room altered. Seats were plush, decorated in gingham or plaid designs, lace details around, wood at almost every corner. There were probably a dozen carpets and lamps around, but it didn't feel cluttered. It was warm, safe, personal.
There were also pictures framed everywhere, some of paintings, but others were family photos. Zuma saw current ones of the whole family, another of the elderly human couple holding hands, another of the triplets playing in the grass, Rocky and Old Gizmo in the toolshed.
And then he saw a photo of Rocky's parents.
Well, they gotta be. And from that mini-story he was told, it was pretty accurate of their appearances. There were both in the garden (the one he recognized outside), and the white dog was smiling shyly at the camera, while the grey one had a bright toothy grin. They looked happy.
"Zuma," The lab turned just as Rocky walked in, fur grimy with brown and green substance. He was cautious of not making a mess on the wooden floor. "I need your help with something."
He wrinkled his nose. "Dude, you reek."
"Thanks for the comment." He dryly remarked. "Now, are you gonna help me or not?"
"Alright, alright," Zuma followed his friend outside, and it was apparent they were building a mud castle.
Zuma whistled. "Nice. Almost if Rubble made it himself."
"Do you like it Zuma?!" Scout peaked her head out of the castle, smiling brightly. "I made it for you!"
"You mean we made it." Ash muffled as he kept fixing the window. Ziggy kept adding sticks to the structure, nodding.
Rocky turned to Zuma. "We're gonna need some water to moisten the mud however –"
"Rocky doesn't want to get it." Scout finished. Her twin brothers agreed promptly.
Zuma rolled his eyes. "You go on sea missions and you STILL won't touch water?"
"This is optional!" Rocky defended. "And you like water, so it makes sense."
"Suuuure." He trotted off, and soon after came back from the barn with a bucket of Rocky's internal distress. He faked a throw at his friend's direction, which gained a laugh from the pups and a horrid look from Rocky. But ah it was worth it.
The pups busied themselves with their new temporary playhouse, and Rocky shook his fur off.
"Uh, that should keep them occupied."
"For whut?"
Rocky turned. "I'm just gonna tend the gardens for awhile."
Knowing how much of a green thumb (or paw) his friend was, Zuma shrugged. "All yours man." A thought suddenly spurns into his head, and Zuma smirked.
"Hey Gramps!" Old Gizmo was fixing something near the porch as he heard his name. "You never finished your story."
"Mah story?" Old Gizmo looked blankly at the lab, "What were we talkin' bout again?"
He seized the opportunity. "How Rocky joined the P.A.W. Patrol."
Rocky's paws came to a stop.
"Ah! That one!" Old Gizmo grinned in fondness. "Ho, it's one of mah best stories for sure! Aah swore Aah told ya before, but eh Aah probably told another pup. Come n' I'll tell ya."
"G-Grandpa," Rocky sweatdropped nervously. "It's okay. It's not like anyone wants to know about it…"
"I wanna know." the lab had a devious-eating grin.
"You already know how I joined Zuma!" Rocky flushed in annoyance. "You just like hearing the part of me hitting myself with a plank board!"
"But dude it was soooo funny."
"I liked it too." Ziggy suddenly said.
Zuma gestured to the younger pup. "See? Even my Ziggy dude agrees." Rocky groaned sourly.
"Another story! Another story!" The other two pups cheered.
Old Gizmo looked absolutely pleased. "Ha! Imma the best storyteller! Gather 'round pups! We have another one!"
Rocky paled. "No, wait –!"
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In a woodshed filled with incomplete contraptions and devices, sounds of clicking, clanking, and metal clashing harmonized in a strange chaos.
There was a pup in the middle of the mess wearing an old welding mask, paws covered in black protective gear. Strapped on the pup's back there was a weird contraption of some kind, attached to the end a small torch flaring brightly. After several more seconds, it flicked off, and the mask popped open.
Rocky examined it carefully.
His tail wagged anxiously, and the pup pulled away to admire the device he was working on.
"It's done." He huffed.
"Rocky!"
His ears twitched, recognizing the sound. "Coming!" He jogged to a table and threw down all the stuff he was wearing. The object on his back snapped off, and in full view it was metal skeleton hand. He shook off any dust that was on him and made his way out of the shed.
And slammed right into Old Gizmo.
"Oompf!"
"Rocky!" the old dog grunted, "Aah figured ya be here."
"Haha...yeah."
His grandpa looked passed his grandson. "Fixed da rake already?"
"Oh, uh yeah. I even added a grip handler with denser patches so Papa Joe can hold it better."
"What time did ya wake up?"
"Uh, four-thirty?"
"Biscuts and honey." He shook his head. "Yur worse than meh." He furrowed his brows. "Come on. We gotta be at the tractor before Joe."
"I was just finishing up." He voiced. "Honest."
"And Imma flyin' piece of Marconi pie." He rolled his eyes. "Aah reckon you not to lie to mah face."
Rocky winced. "Heh, sorry."
The older dog suddenly belted a laugher, and with his snorting, Rocky huffed as he walked away.
"I hate when you do that Grandpa!"
"S-Sorry!" he caught up to his grandson. "But it gets ya everytime! Even ya siblings catch on faster!"
"Not fair." He grumbled.
They sprinted across the farm, passing by the farmhouse, another shed, the main house, heading to the entrance of the lot, where a tractor was being prepped for departure.
"Morning Papa Joe."
"Mornin' Rocks." The old man said, adjusting his boots. He smiled at them both. It was clear he already greeted Gizmo.
"Are we ready?" Old Gizmo said as he jumped in the front seat. Rocky leaped to the back.
"Sure are." He said, and inserting the key to the ignition.
And off they went to the fields.
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"S-Stop hogging the stick Scout…"
"I'm nawt hogging it!" she stuck out her tongue. "I'm still fairy-princess-dragon-tamer of the castle! How can I be a fairy-princess dragon tamer if I don't have a wand?"
"But you can't have all three..."
"Yes I can!"
He pouted. "Then how come I'm just the ranger who can't have any powerups?"
"Easy!" she grinned innocently. "Cause we need our boring role to make mine look better."
"Waaa! No fair! It's my turn to play with the stick!"
"No! This is my stick!"
"We found it together Scout! Besides, it's MY turn to pick the game."
"I'm not playing 'study the tree branch!' It sounds boring!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Fine," she huffed, "We'll ask someone else to decide." They both turned to their third party member, playing idly by himself with some rocks.
"Ziggy! What do you want to do with the stick?"
"Y-Yeah," Ash added, trying to gain the approval of his only other twin brother. "Do you want to keep playing Scout's game, or play mine instead?"
Their quiet brother blinked at them blankly, but he eventually made his way over and took the stick from his sister's paw.
Both siblings watched in curiosity as he brought it back to his rocks. He grabbed two and began rubbing them together.
Something flashed in his paws, and suddenly the stick was on fire.
"ROOOOCKY~~!" Scout puffed her checks in annoyance as Ash cowered at the sight of the small flame. "ZIGGY DID IT AGAIN!"
Something clunked in the barn, and Rocky stumbled out, covered with mud and grim from the pigpen he was currently cleaning. He ran towards them, seeing the mess that was there.
"Ziggy!" In no time Rocky grabbed the stick with his teeth, and threw the stick into the nearby pond.
Rocky scolded his brother. "What did we say about starting fires on the farm?"
"Have oxygen, heat, and fuel."
I knew I should've never read him that book about explosions, he sighed. "Ziggy we talked about this. You can't burn everything around you! Especially your siblings' toys."
He grumbled. "They asked me."
"We didn't ask you to buwn it Ziggy!" Scout exclaimed. Ash ironically was looking at the ash from their burned out stick, sniffling mournfully.
Rocky sighed. "Look, I'm almost done with the pen, and Grandpa and Papa Joe are coming back soon. Why don't you clean up around here and after we'll play?"
All three pair of eyes lit up. "Okay!" Scout answered.
Time went by quickly for the cleanup, and soon Rocky was pretending to be a horse for the three pup knights.
"Onward!" Scout shouted bravely. "To fight the monsters!"
"Y-Yes." Ash interjected. "To fight and protect the village."
Ziggy raised his paw in the air stoically.
Carrying three smaller pups was no easy feat, and Rocky pretended to neigh as the knights discussed how they would slay the dragon.
The sound of tire tracks rumbled in the distance, and their ears twitched at the familiar greeting.
"Grandpa's back!" and all leaped off, making Rocky fall onto his stomach.
"Papa Joe!" the triplets ran to the elderly man as he parked the truck.
He got out from his truck door, smiling down. "Hello little critters."
"How was the trip?" Rocky asked as he made his way over to greet, dusting his fur off.
"Excellent! The folks in the other town were very receptive 'bout the wool." He laughed lightly. "Shoulda brought more if Ah knew it was gonna sell so quickly."
"What about that farmer you had to meet?"
"Farmer Al? Ah, our meet went along smoothly. Ah reckon he's gonna buy our other truck. Hear that? We got ourselves a buyer!"
The pups kept pounding him for more questions as Rocky greeted his Grandpa, who kept yapping away about the craziness they apparently saw on the road.
"Aah saw so many ferrets Rocks! Aah think we almost ran over five of 'em!"
"Ferrets don't come out in the day Grandpa..." he weakly smiled. He shook his head as his grandpa continued to rant, and Rocky listened on.
But then he noticed a shift of fabric.
He stared at it for several more seconds, thinking his eyes were tricking him, but sure enough, the fabric moved again.
"Papa Joe,"
"Hmm?"
"Uh, there's something moving in your truck…"
"What?" Curious, the old farmer made his way to the back of his rusty truck, and his hand was just about to grab the brown throw-over blanket when something jerked under, and he stumbled back a bit.
And suddenly, the thing shot straight up, and it made Rocky's eye twitch in confusion.
There's a pup…in the truck?
The pup in question was white with black spots all over, and from that, Rocky immediately knew the pup was a Dalmatian. And it seemed the mystery pup was just as confused, blinking dumbly at those around him, noticing his surroundings.
"Uh… this isn't Adventure Bay." He realized.
Rocky was dumbfounded, frazzled of the pup's demeanor, and was about the question him when suddenly the pup's face spattered into some weird expression, and he slowly tipped over the side of the truck and onto the ground.
Scout summed it best. "Uh...What just happened?"
Old Gizmo appeared from behind, clenching a shovel in his mouth. He spat it out. "Gotcha crazy ferrets! See Joe? Aah told ya, Aah told ya, one day animals are gonna be hitchhiking in the truck! But haha, Aah got em'! Nothin' gets passed Old Gizmo!"
Rocky horribly realized what happened. "Grandpa!"
"What?"
"That wasn't a ferret. It was a pup!"
"Oh." He glanced down to confirm his grandson's suggestion. "Aah thought he was ferret."
"What kind of ferret has black and white spots Grandpa?!"
"Aah don't know Rocky! There's strange creatures out there! I was just telling ya!"
"Is he dead?" Scout asked bluntly.
"Do we have to bury him?!" Ash nervously asked.
Scout giggled. "I wanna dress him up before we bury him!"
"What if he turns into a zombie?!" Ash continued to panic.
Ziggy's eyes gleamed in rare excited delight, looking up at his older brother. "Can I light the zombie on fire Rocky?"
"What? No!" he shook his head. "No one's dead, no one's dressing him up, and no he's not gonna be a zombie where you can burn him!"
The pups whined.
Papa Joe checked the sleeping animal's pulse. "The pup's gonna do fine, he's just…unconscious. Should be wake' in a hour n' so."
Rocky let out a breath. "That's good."
He grabbed the pup in his arms. "Let's head inside. Rocks, come help meh set up a spot for him."
"On it!"
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.
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After waving the triplets away from decorating the sleeping pup's body, Rocky was forced to take a reluctant bath. Oh how he hated them. His owners knew too for obvious reasons, so they accommodated by allowing Rocky a bucket and limiting himself to how much water he wanted to pour on him for each rinse. Mama Fran was the only one he allowed to do this process, since, well his mother used to do it. And she was his mother's owner.
After drying himself faster than lightening, he was just about to check on his triplets when he heard a groan in the living room as he walked past.
Rocky called his grandpa, seeing how the guest was waking up, and eventually two blue eyes sleepily opened.
"Hm? Ryder?" The pup lifted his head, yawning, but he suddenly winced. "Ouch!" he rubbed his head, and finally his eyes came into focus. He blinked dumbly when the realization crashed onto him that he wasn't somewhere familiar. Then he noticed the two dogs staring back at him.
"Uh…" he started. "What happened?"
Rocky began. "You were –"
"That's somethin' we should be askin' ya!" Old Gizmo interjected, almost shoving his face uncomfortably into the mystery pup. "We found ya hidin' in da back of our truck. So what's yur plan?" He inched closer, his one eye attempting to stare the cowering pup down scary-like. "Ya workin' for someone? Somethin? Want our money? Our wool? Our limbs?!"
"L-Limbs?!" the pup gulped.
"Oh my gosh, Grandpa!" Rocky pulled the dog back. "Don't assume that. You're scaring the poor pup."
Old Gizmo frowned. "Dis are good questions Rocky!" he replied. "Who else would ask em' ?"
Rolling his eyes at his Grandpa's odd antics, he stepped forward. "Uh, sorry about that. My name is Rocky, and yes, we found you in our truck. We only discovered you once you came on our farm."
"Your farm?" The Dalmatian flickered his eyes. "Uh…this isn't Farmer Al's?"
"Yur on McKay property pup!" Old Gizmo stood tall. "We just left Farmer Al's an hour ago."
"Whaaaa?" He bounced up, "So I'm not in Adventure Bay anymore?"
"No…?" Rocky arched a brow. "You're in Orchard Fair Oaks. The next town over."
"What?!" He stumbled off the couch, inches from landing on the old dog by accident. Old Gizmo side-glanced to his grandson, eying him 'this is what happens when we leave our town' type look. Rocky couldn't agree more.
As the Border Collie went to go get their owners, Rocky decided to play investigator. "Do you remember why you were at Farmer Al's?" he asked.
"Oh, he asked if someone from the P.A.W. Patrol could help him out on the farm cause his usual helpers were off that day. And since Chase and Ryder were busy, I came by myself."
"P.A.W. Patrol?"
"Ah! Forgot to introduce myself! I'm Mashall, P.A.W. Patrol's firepup."
"Nice to meet you…Marshall of P.A.W. Patrol," he again was curious on that title, "You said firepup, so you're part of a rescue team I'm assuming?"
"Yup!"
"Is P.A.W. Patrol the name of the division?"
"If you mean team, then yes." He answered. "We're the only ones stationed in Adventure Bay!"
"Wow…interesting." Observing the pup, he didn't look much older than him. Was he really a firedog at such a young age?
Old Gizmo returned with their humans, and they greeted their guest. "Imma Mr. Joe McKay, and this is my wife, Mrs. Fran McKay." The farmer explained. "We're sorry we knocked ya out pup. Gizmo tends to take matters in his own paws and gets da shovel."
"Shovel?!"
If Old Gizmo could cross his arms like a human, he would. "And Aah see nothing wrong with dat method."
Mrs. McKay offered a smile. "Do ya need some ice uh,…Aah reckon we don't know yur name."
"Marshall. And ah," he rubbed his head, feeling a minor bump. "Hehe, maybe a little would be nice."
She went to the kitchen, and the farmer continued. "Is there someone we can contact for ya? We did accidentally brought ya here."
"Oh, it's okay, really!" Marshall waved his paws in front of him. "I probably dozed off when I was helping Farmer Al. It's my fault. I can take myself back."
"How though?" Rocky asked. "By paw?"
"Um…" Marshall laughed nervously. "Maybe?"
"Sheesh Aah never knew dogs from Adventure Bay acted this looney!" Old Gizmo commented.
"We can't allow dat Marshall." Mr. McKay shook his head. "Why don't Aah take ya back? Aah got mah truck."
"Uh, s-seriously! It's okay!" Marshall tried to argue. "I don't wanna cause any more trouble."
"It's fine!" Mr. McKay insisted. "Besides, Aah don't mind traveling 'bout." He turned to his oldest friend. "Gizmo, do ya mind watchin' the sheep while we head back out?"
"Gladly!"
Mrs. McKay came back with the ice pack in her hands. "Ya should call someone ya know Marshall hun." She said, "Anyone we can contact?"
"Oh, uh I guess I could call Ryder. He's my leader."
"Alright, and while ya rest up from dat terrible bump, ya can have a snack."
"A snack?" Marshall's ears wiggled. "Ya got pup treats?"
"Ha! Even better." She winked. "I make em'."
Another gasping moment from the Dalmatian. "That's so cool!"
While all went to their respective tasks, Rocky lingered in the living room. "Sorry about my grandpa. He tends to get uh, excited."
"It's okay!" Marshall beamed. "I can get excited too."
"That's good." Rocky smiled politely, but then he recoiled. "Oh! You need the phone right? I'll get it."
"No need Rocky!" He said as he pointed to his collar. "Got it right here."
"Your…your collar is a communication device?"
"Yup!"
The pup's eyes suddenly flashed, almost if he saw stars, and he was suddenly looking at collar in admiration. "How is that possible?! The antenna has to be extremely compact to even fit in a dog collar, but you said you can talk to it, so how wide range does it travel? Cellphones can only have short distances since they share hexagonal cellular networks so does yours share cellular network? But wait is your collar more a radio then? Is it a combination of a radio transmitter and receiver?!"
Marshall began to sweat. "Um…I don't know."
"How don't you know?!" Rocky bellowed in shock. "I would be studying this for days if I could. If the antenna is small enough, it could be implanted into other everyday items. But it probably depends on the object itself and how much its signal can carry in those items…"
"Huh?"
"Rocky! You didn't say he was up!" Scout said, and soon after all three pups stumbled into the living room.
"Y-You're on me Scout…" Ash tried to advocate. Ziggy was literally standing on his head.
"Pups!" Rocky suddenly realized their presence. "You're not supposed to bother the guest."
"But we couldn't help big bwother!" Scout exclaimed. She tried to use her sisterly charms, giving a pouting lip to emphasize her cuteness. "We just want to meet him."
"Ugh…" Rocky knew that look. And now that her brothers are joining in on the "I'm too cute for you" look, he gave in. "…Fine. Just be careful around him cause he has a bruise – oomph!" He was pushed off to the side as the triplets wagged their tails to the guest.
"W-Why were you out here?" Ash started shyly.
"Where did you come from?!" Scout yelled.
"And um, are you hurt mister dog?"
"Ahhhh! Your collar is soooo pretty and cool!" She squealed, "I want a pretty collar too!"
"Are you sure you're not a zombie?" Ziggy finally asked.
Rocky was about to pull them back and apologize for their behavior when, "I fell asleep, from Adventure Bay, I'm not hurt that badly, thank you, and haha no!"
"Oooooh." The pups cooed.
Rocky blinked in confusion. "You got brothers and sisters too?"
Marshall laughed. "Naw, but I wish! I like playing with pups."
"Triplets!" The plump woman came storming back in with a towel in her hand. "What did we say? Leave da dog alone!"
"Ah!" they scrambled off, with Rocky sending Marshall a bashful look. And hearing his Grandpa in the distance complaining about crows attacking him again, Rocky had the urge to sigh. His family was embarrassing sometimes.
.
.
.
Marshall called this "Ryder" person, who to be honest sounded fairly young, supposedly being the leader of this P.A.W. Patrol group. Rocky observed how comfortable Marshall sounded when talking to him – the human on the other line even offered to come and grab him himself! Ryder must be a kind person.
Mama Fran came to give Marshall some homemade pup treats and juice, which the Dalmatian gobbled up happily. His happiness could be compared to his younger siblings at the enjoyment of the dessert. And now that the bump on his head swelled down, Papa Joe readied the truck for the trip back.
"Haha, it's okay Mrs. McKay!" Marshall blushed, being given a neatly wrapped brown package. "You don't need to give me anymore."
"Aah insist!" she bellowed sharply, "Aah feel awful bout da bump. Give some to yur friends and Ryder! It's the least we could do."
Rocky sheepishly smiled at the scene. His owner was too sweat sometimes. Made him more thankful to have such a thoughtful human like her in his life. He was too warped in his thoughts that he barely heard: "And shucks, why don't ya join them Rocky? Ya could use some fresh air."
"M-Me?" He almost fell over. "Uh, It's okay. They don't need me to come along."
"Nonsense! Papa Joe and Marshall could use da company."
"What 'bout the triplets –"
"Aah got 'em."
"And my chor –"
"Yur done for the day."
"B-B-But Grandpa –" he weakly protested.
"He's a big dog!" she laughed. "Imma sure he can handle himself on the field."
Rocky still looked unconvinced. "I'm not sure…"
"No point ya being cooped up here everyday." She stated. "Go! Have some fun. And besides, ya never been to Adventure Bay."
"But –"
"Great! We'll see ya in a few hours."
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A/N: So the ball is rolling, and Rocky is heading to Adventure Bay! What shall happen? Who shall he meet? Also a cool fact to know is that his story is interlaced with Skye's! So yes we'll see her eventually. Also to address the elephant in the room...yes Rocky's parents are deceased. They died by the time the triplets were born. HOW THOUGH? You shall see in this backstory. Also to get the confusion outta the way, Scout is a girl. So Rocky, Ash, and Ziggy are her brothers.
Thank you to all those who continuously read, comment and follow my work! (critique/suggestions are welcomed!) ^_^
P.S REVIEW!
P.P.S. Researching Rocky's story, I got heavily inspired by the movie Babe!
Till next time,
mokocchii