THE ROCKY HALL OF FAME has its share of stars, including Rocky Raccoon, Rocky Balboa, Rocky Road, and Rocky Horror Picture Show. Today, however, we celebrate my border collie Rocky, aka Roxas and Rocky Boy. We celebrate because that’s what you do on birthdays, and not just any birthday but birthday No.14.
Most border collies, I’m told, aren’t likely to see 14. And while Rocky is feeling his age these days, we still take a daily walk or two, and he’s quick to stir when someone’s preparing food in the kitchen — food that might find its way accidentally or on purpose on the floor. His tummy isn’t as tolerant these days and he’s a bit arthritic in those back hips, but he doesn’t complain.
Rocky has a high IQ and EQ. But what he lacks is a coping mechanism for storms and/or fireworks; both rattle his nervous system to its core. His melancholy, caramel brown eyes belie his generally happy nature. Gifted to us by my late father in-law, Rocky spent the first few years as an outside dog because, well, I thought border collies liked being outdoors. It’s a decision I’d reverse if I could because Rocky truly likes being around people and the comforts of the indoors.
But outdoors, especially during his younger days, was his place to shine. He liked to have a job and was a faithful companion as I did mine in the yard. Mowing the back property on my tractor, I’d often see him pop into herding mode as if to organize my path; if only we’d had sheep or goats for him to manage. He liked to cool off in the pool after a game of fetch or running the fence with the neighbor pups.
Today, he chills with us room to room and is a champion napper. I’m thankful for him every day.
