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Rocky love
by Debra Bailey
My brother found Rocky under a dumpster where he worked, along with with his brother and sisters. My brother had always a big orange cat and Rocky fit that to the letter. The problem was Rocky was about seven weeks old and a little young to be away away from his mom. So I got to take care of Rocky,as I was the big sister. Rocky got his name one day shortly after my Mom noticed that Rocky liked to set on his hind feet and "box" with whoever was brave enough to take him on.
My Mother said she didn't know what my brother was going to name him, but we should call him "Rocky" after the Slyvester Stallone character in the Rocky movies. That name stuck and our "Rocky" was just as tuff as his famous counterpart. He was was the center of all our lives as we were his. Everywhere my Dad would go, so would Rocky. You could call Rocky and he would come running like a dog from where ever he was with a happy smile on his face. After my parents retired and built a house on the Oregon Coast, Rocky went with them. Always a fiercesome hunter, Rocky found his true calling on my parents wooded property. Continuely bringing them gifts of shrews and snakes, my Dad finally had to close Rocky's private entrance to the house. Rocky then became known as Mr. in and out, as my Mom was always opening and closing the back door for Rocky. My visits to see Rocky were only yearly, as I lived in a different state, but he always was happy to see me and stayed at my side a great deal of my visit. When Rocky turned 10 years old he was found to have Diabetes. No matter we did, we could not find the proper dose of insulin to help Rocky and he died in his sleep one night. We buried him in one of his favorite spots on the side of the hill under a cherry tree he liked to sleep under. A simple slate marks his grave. He will never, never leave my heart and his love lives on in my memory forever.
Comments would be appreciated by the
author, Debra Baile
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