It was basic information that some dogs slept rather deeper than others. How tiring the last day had been played a part in the matter, as well as who ate the most. Chase always slept the lightest, having trained himself to spring up if something stirred him. The rest of the pups would lay down in their kennels and shut their eyes, a normal process for most that gave them the rest they needed.
But there was a pup among them all who had a more interesting sleep cycle. The one bulldog, the one who held the controls for construction within the Paw Patrol: Rubble. Rubble was the youngest of the team, and he carried an aura of playfulness and innocence, a demeanor that the world lacked. Every time Rubble fell asleep, he was out like a light, or even more so. Evidenced by the small facemask he wore, a "nap" for Rubble was more accurately referred to as hibernating.
"Paw Patrol to the lookout!" Ryder's voice rang through the radio one morning, the brisk of dawn peeking over the horizon. The pups had just begun waking up, complete with Rocky's wide-mouthed yawn and Marshall's almost-drunken stumbling. Nothing got to the Dalmation more than the morning drowsiness.
"Ryder needs us!" The pups said in unison, some voices more awake than others.
Chase immediately jumped to his paws, shaking off his drowsy feeling and quickly hurrying off to the lookout. Zuma and Marshall rolled their eyes and casually walked after him. Skye giggled at Chase's serious manner but was quickly silenced as her drowsiness caused her to collide with her kennel wall. After picking herself up and dusting off, the cockpoo hopped off after her friends as fast as she could.
Rocky picked himself up and began to walk until something came to mind. The mixed-breed glanced behind him at the only yellow kennel, his eyes falling on the one dog who still hadn't stirred. Of course, Rubble wouldn't have heard Ryder's voice on the radio, why would he? The dog slept harder than a bag of rocks.
"Rubble," Rocky called, half-believing the dog would even respond, "get up, we've been called."
Rubble rolled over in response, snoring away as dreamed about something probably food-related.
"Rubble!" yelled the recycle pup, but to no avail. "I swear, it's every time with you,"
He knew what he had to do, and he knew it would make him late for the briefing. At least he'd miss out and Marshall crashing into the elevator as usual, but Chase would understandably be unhappy with him. But it wasn't like everything had to be perfect, Chase would just have to suppress his arrogance for once.
Rocky walked over, closing the distance between him and Rubble. Looking down at the dozing bulldog, Rocky stifled a laugh as he looked upon Rubble's pink sleeping mask. It was unheard of why he wore that thing, and it just made him look hilarious.
"Should've woken up," Rocky shrugged, then leaned in.
He grabbed the mask in his teeth, and slowly pulled it back as far as it could go. Knowing how much it would hurt, Rocky reminded himself to apologize later. He instantly released the mask, and it snapped back into place in blinding speed, slapping against Rubble's face with a good "thwack!"
Unfortunately, the frontal assault was ineffective, and Rubble continued to sleep through the aching sting on his face.
Looking down at the bulldog, Rocky knew he had to play hardball. Normally, the one thing that always woke up Rubble was breakfast. Somehow the sound alone of food hitting his bowl gripped Rubble and yanked him out of his slumber. Nothing made sense anymore.
For just a moment, Rocky contemplated slapping him but quickly shunned the thought. Rubble was the baby of the team, and no one could lay a paw on him, even if it was a playfight. Rocky sighed and looked back to the outpost, no doubt they were waiting for him now. Absently, he reached a paw forward and nudged Rubble's side. A small giggle escaped the sleeping dog's mouth in response.
And that was how Rocky got his best idea all day.
Smiling softly, Rocky tiled his head and nudged the bulldog again. Rubble instantly giggled from the poke, and Rocky realized just how ticklish the bulldog was.
"You asked for it," the mixed-breed chuckled,
He put his paws forward and started gently prodding Rubble in his sides. The bulldog jolted for a moment, pieces of laughter leaking him his mouth. Holding nothing back, Rocky smiled as he nudged his paws in and started tickling him. Rubble's faint laughs quickly rose louder, stirring in his sleep and gently moving his legs. Within seconds, the bulldog rolled over on his back, and Rocky jumped to the opportunity. Rubble had made a vital mistake.
Rocky's own laughter could be heard as he mercilessly tickled Rubble's stomach, somewhere not even Chase could hold back a giggle from. Rubble was quickly laughing a storm unable to take it anymore.
"Rubble!" Rocky laughed, "wake up already!"
"I'm up!" Rubble finally cried out.
Rocky tortured the bulldog for a few more seconds, tickling away at his stomach before finally easing up on him.
"Come on, we're late as it is," the mixed-breed grinned, pointing at the outpost with his tail.
"You didn't have to stop," Rubble heaved, wiping away a tear as his wide smile remained on his face.
"Maybe later, now come on!"
The two dogs laughed at one another as they took off and ran toward The Lookout.
