DISCLAIMER: I do not own PAW Patrol, the characters, or any association of the series.
A/N: Hello Readers~~ AND MERRY CHRISTMAS. Here's my gift from me to you
TFSTARFIRE – I knooow. I feel like despite it being a kid's show, they could explore the family aspect to make the world more interesting instead of random new power up equipment. But alas, here's where I come in. ;}
Desgarbuiz – ¡muchas gracias! no te preocupes, veremos a Skye en el capítulo final ;)
Story ideas – thank you!
Daisy Rhine – glad you enjoyed reader!
Mdmpinkie9088 – ahhh your comments always make me melt ;-; But yes, you're picking up with what I want to do with Rocky. And his aquaphobia will be clearer after this chapter. I have an idea what I want for Zuma's fear to be, but dunno if I wanna reveal it in his backstory considering it's not the focus of his arc. But who knows I might change my mind.
Haha, yeah Chase and Rocky do have that silent commodore of not talking much but enjoying each other's presence. They have a unique friendship. You'll get more interactions in this chapter!
The Not-So-Ultimate Writer – haha thanks dude. You're also a great writer. Good stuff you produced.
Robloxmaster225 – ahh thanks so much! And thanks for letting me know.
TheStoryBooker – I agree with each verdict you made for the stories. And I noticed I definitely added more the family aspect with Rocky more than Skye and Chase.. However, it doesnt mean that's the end of learning about their families ;)
NaLuDragonRage - *t-poses for dominance* but haha thank you! Yeah I'm not into it much either but I look at it fondly and as a way to take a break from my main projects :D
Night – Yeah, I'm really lazy for finishing this up. It's always been an issue of mine, and I REALLY want to get this wrapped up so we can head to current day timeline with a new plot.
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The ride to the rescue site was quick.
Instead of the stroll in atmosphere Rocky experienced when bringing back Marshall, Ryder immediately took the pup straight to the water tower at the edge of town. The farmer pup didn't waste time installing his device to fix the patch (though he had to consciously keep himself focused away from the idea that much water was near him)
Thankfully, the process went smoother than expected, and after Ryder made the final touches of installing and the other pups cleaning up the site, Rocky figured he wouldn't stay any longer than he needed to.
But boy wasn't he wrong?
As soon Rocky suggested he should head back home, Marshall urged him to come back to the tower, as they didn't have a chance to play before. Not wanting to be rude, Rocky agreed, and thus, well...he was here.
"You're really good Rocky!" Marshall exclaimed happily, passing the ball to Chase. The three were in the yard with Ryder, as he had enough time off to play with them.
"By...passing the ball?"
"Yeah! We try to do rounds keeping it up in the air as long as possible, and you haven't dropped it once!"
"Didn't you drop it already Marshall?" Chase arched a brow. "You fell in the hole over there."
"Ahh that didn't count! I tripped!"
Rocky laughed weakly. "Ah well, I don't play much, but I'm quite familiar with the terms how to play pup games. Pups as siblings can be demanding when they wanna play."
"You have siblings Rocky?" Ryder asked.
"Y-Yes. Two brothers and a sister." He caught the ball, passing it to Chase. "They're triplets."
"Waaa…so cool. I'm the only pup in my family." Marshall sighed in longing. "Must be cool having siblings."
"Not sure if having siblings is cool, but it's enriching in ways I didn't see before."
"Enriching?"
"Ah, like rewarding, interesting." He smiled lightly, reminiscing of being a big brother to them . "It'll be difficult to see how I could live without them."
Marshall and Ryder smiled warmly at this admission, which made Rocky feel relieved what he said was appropriate. Chase however looked pensive at the ball that he held.
Rocky noticed so far he hadn't said much, only saying snippets. He figured it's polite to ask him too. "Uh, Chase is your name correct? Do you have any –"
"None, if that's what you're asking." He said, not even looking at Rocky and passing the ball back to Marshall. Rocky didn't expect the curt tone, wondering if he said something wrong. He checked Marshall's reaction but his focus was on his friend as he caught the ball, cringing at his German Shepherd's words.
He wondered before, but was Chase...anti-social? He seemed fine before at the car crash site, but perhaps it was because he was on duty he set his personal preferences aside. And for the small amount of time he's been here, the police dog barely uttered a word, unless it was directed to Marshall or Ryder. Maybe he didn't like strangers here? Rocky tried to think of something quick to change topic, but the only thing he came up were math equations.
"I don't have any either." Ryder mentioned, stirring the attention to himself. "But a sibling would've been nice to have, considering my family worked a lot."
Rocky nodded at that.
The phone rang, and Ryder picked it up on the first ring. "Give me a sec pups," he smiled, "Perhaps think of a new game while I'm gone." and he walked off into the tower.
"Any pup got an idea?" Marshall said. Chase shook his head, and Rocky blinked in confusion.
"Do you have something in mind?" Chase asked the firepup.
"Uh, I'm not sure, but maybe Rocky has a suggestion?"
The rescue pups turned to the farmer pup, and Rocky began to sweat.
"Haha, me?" he denied quickly, "I-I don't have anything in mind. I'll play whatever you play. Really."
Chase frowned. "You're our guest. We don't care what you pick, even if we don't like it."
"Chase!"
"What?" he said, sounding legitimately confused, "I thought that's what we do."
Marshall gave a tentative smile. "He means we're happy to play what you suggest! It's only polite. We just wanna know your hobbies."
Rocky stared back at the pups, before shuffling his eyes to the ground. He did have an idea, but he doubted any normal pup would be remotely interested. Even his siblings got annoyed with him when he did it cause it was excessive behavior…
"If you don't want to pick, it's okay too." Chase said, and his tone was notably more…kind? "Like, we don't have to do anything crazy. If you want, we don't have to do anything."
Rocky did like that idea. It was easy thinking of games for his siblings because he's used to it, but prompting games to outsiders was strange. However a hobby…
"I like…learning," he said cautiously, observing if they opposed it. When they didn't, he continued. "When I...don't do work on the farm, I try to learn as much as possible in different subjects. It all helps me when I do tinkering."
"Ah tinkering! That's what you like to do right?!" Marshall injected.
Rocky nodded, his tail wagging at anyone mentioning it. "Yeah. It's my favourite thing to do. Anything can be improved with a little work and motivation. You just gotta figure out what."
"Can you fix anything Rocky?"
"If I believe there's a solution to perplexing scenarios that requires logic and reasoning, then… ah yes. But if I have every solution? Um, it would be ideal."
"So…" Marshall began racing to the toybox, diving head first in it. The two stared at him as he pulled something out. "Can you fix this toy?"
Rocky observed the item in the spotted pup's paws. It looked fairly new, considering there were no scratches or dents on it. The toy was those weird monkey ones that had several instruments attached and played music.
"It's broken?"
"I think so! Dancing Maury Money is supposed to move around and chase ya while he plays, but he keeps going in circles and makes weird sounds!"
"I can't believe you want it to work again." Chase groaned. "I hate that toy. I don't want him back."
"But he's fun!"
"For you maybe. For me, it goes off at night, and I can't sleep. Even when it wasn't broken."
Marshall gasped. "Did you break it Chase?!"
"What? No. Why would I do that?"
"You hate the toy! And it's broken! You're the only one who has a motive! The guilty party you are!"
Chase deadpanned. "You're watching my K-9 show aren't you?"
"Uh, a little bit."
"S-Sorry to interrupt," Rocky said, coming between the two, and they glanced at him. Rocky smiled a bit. "but I think I have a solution to your dilemma."
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Marshall's curiosity kept him hovering over Rocky before Chase had to pull him back to let the pup work. But as they waited, anyone could spot how noticeably …different Rocky acted when tinkering verus anything else.
From simple observations, Rocky tended to stumble a bit when he spoke, or talk at a lower volume - cautious and patient. It could be blamed how he didn't interact much outside of his family or people he knew, since he only lived in his hometown his entire life. It wasn't like they got foreign visitors in the sleepy farmtown. Even his manner of speech wasn't natural - it sounded like he spoke right from a textbook.
But when Rocky was at work, it was like a different persona controlled him.
For one, he looked quite serious, eyes narrowed with intensity and focus. When Marshall kept trying to see what he was doing, it didn't stop his workflow. It was as if Rocky had extra eyes to keep him aware of his immediate surroundings.
Another thing was how he handled the tools. How Rocky used them were extraordinarily unique. He somehow was able to use tools that only a human hand could use, which meant Rocky was adaptable at handling anything given to him. A few minutes of deducting an object's purpose and he was able to utilize it strategically.
And finally, after ten minutes, his repair was done.
Marshall turned the toy on, and as expected, the toy began zipping around fluidly across the yard.
"This is awesome Rocky!" Marshall beamed, turning to the farmer pup with a giant smile. "Thank you!"
"Oh don't thank me yet." He said, opening the door to the tower to let the toy in. "Look."
The pups peered as the toy raced into the dark tower, and shockingly, as soon as it entered, it immediately stopped.
Marshall blinked. "What happened?"
"Uh, Chase did mention he disliked it waking him up at night, so I made it sensitive to light automation if anything lowers at 40% intensity. It'll turn off automatically unless it's manual interference."
Chase and Marshall looked absolutely baffled, and Rocky gulped. "Did I... say something wrong?"
"No, just…" Chase was staggered, "Ryder wasn't kidding when he said you were smart."
"R-Ryder said that?"
"Yup!" Marshall chimed, "And Ryder is super smart too. If he's calling someone else smart that means they got something special!"
Special, huh…Rocky never thought he was special. It was all basic mechanics. Anyone could do it if they studied and put their mind to it.
Rocky thought hard about that, even when he arrived home later that day, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He didn't tell his grandpa though. It'll give him an unnecessary ego boost of their family.
Now, he thought his life would resume how it was except for the bi-weekly trips to Adventure Bay, but Rocky felt like he visited the neighboring town too often now. Ryder would call him at least once or twice a week, consulting him about a job before being picked up to help. And as always, his grandpa volunteered him to go without his consent. It's like Old Gizmo smelled his hesitation a mile away.
Last week it was a school bus breakdown. Another was a fencing issue at the beach. Then there were several wiring issues regarding the satellite. And then there were stuff Rocky didn't think it even involved tinkering. Strictly science-based or math knowledge he told over the phone.
Rocky didn't know why he kept doing this. He had so many responsibilities at home, with herding, farming, taking care of the pups, his owners, his grandpa…spreading out his attention wasn't gonna do any good for him. He tried distancing himself politely away from it, but he always caved, guilt eating him if he said no.
Rocky knew it's always been in his nature to find a solution for those in need, and volunteering with Ryder's group was another task to the endless list. But he still felt confused why a pup like him would draw the attention of a leader of a rescue group. He felt average compared to their heroic duties. He wasn't qualified in any professional work. He's a simple farm pup who happened to be good with tools.
But then he remembered Ryder thought he was smart, and it made Rocky smile a bit brighter.
One thing Rocky pointedly remembered about most visits was that it warranted an occasional break at the Lookout, and it was where he truly saw the team be themselves.
Marshall was virtually the same as he acted when meeting him, perhaps even more excitable than expected. He was overall a nice pup who constantly encouraged Rocky to show them his "cool tinkering", and he never ceased to disappoint the Dalmatian. He in particular loved Mama Fran's bakery goods, and she always packed some for Rocky to bring after learning Marshall had a sweet tooth.
Chase was a bit harder to get talking. Rocky realized Chase was a very private pup, and didn't say much unless he absolutely needed to. Most of his dialogue came from telling Marshall to calm down, or shaking his head and commenting about their work. Theoretically, it should feel daunting to deal with a pup like him who wasn't social, but oddly enough Rocky didn't feel uncomfortable. Like yes, sometimes they have silent pauses between their one-on-one conversations, but Rocky never felt forced to talk, which was a huge relief to the introvert. It was as if Chase respected his privacy, and in turn, Rocky respected his. It was if they mutually bonded over their social awkwardness.
Ryder however was truly a mystery. While the pups were easy to conclude their personality, Ryder just seemed…abnormal?. It wasn't a bad strange, as he was kind, respectful, and all the above, but perhaps it's because Rocky never encountered a human who was (dare he say) smarter than him, the whole experience was interesting to have. It also felt like Ryder knew something more that Rocky was oblivious to, and Rocky disliked any feeling of not knowing information.
However, Ryder being a geek like him with mechanics made the human all the more intriguing to be around. Rocky was always in awe when the leader spoke.
Yet, today was a day Rocky wasn't helping Ryder and the pups.
"Okay, it's all packed for ya." Farmer Al grinned at the elderly man. Rocky was with Papa Joe today at Farmer Al's farm, sitting in his owner's truck. As Mr. McKay kept coming back to the town, word got around of his wool business, and eventually Farmer Al and Farmer Yumi started a partnership. "10 boxes Mr. McKay asked pup?"
"Yeah." Rocky nodded. "But I'll ask him again once he comes back from the washroom."
"When are ya planning to come back to visit?"
"Uh…I'm not sure. It's whenever Papa Joe needs to do trade."
"But I reckon I see you here in the town too! Alot now! Makin' trips by yourself?"
"Oh, uh…" his tail wagged anxiously, "Ryder just asks for stuff and I come in to help out whenever sees fit."
"Help them out?" he arched a brow, "You mean the P.A.W. Patrol?"
He nodded, and Farmer Al whistled. "Pretty impressive pup."
Rocky wanted to hide under a bush. Feeling bashful, he mumbled, "I don't think so. I mean, I don't really do much."
"But if he calls ya that means he trust ya, ain't I right?"
"Sure, I think..."
"Then it must mean something! I trust the heck outta Ryder ever since his team came here. He got good intentions I tell ya."
Rocky nodded. He wouldnt deny that.
Farmer began rambling about the farming season when he suddenly stopped to stare at the fence, and stomped towards it.
"Ahh, great. Another break down! Just my luck."
"What happened Farmer Al?"
"My gate!" He grunted, trying to drag the metal door close, and he struggled to pull. "I fix it, but it's like every other day it keeps breaking down on me! I'm worried it'll fall apart completely one day on the animals when I'm not looking. I don't know what I'm fixing is even right."
Rocky inspected the gate, and Farmer Al reached into his phone. "Heh, you think the P.A.W. Patrol can help?"
Rocky contemplated. He didn't know what qualified as an emergency for the P.A.W. Patrol, but it seemed they did pretty much any job around town that warranted help with the townsfolk.
"I can do it." He announced, and Farmer Al blinked dumbly.
"Sorry Rocky?"
"I can fix it." He clarified, observing it closer. "Do you have a toolbox somewhere?"
"Oh, I-I do." Passing it along, Rocky immediately grabbed the tools needed.
"Can you use those? They're not very paw-friendly - "
"No need." he said simply, already knowing what to fix. "I got experience with them."
Farmer Al watched quietly as the pup went to work, and it wasn't long before it was done.
"Oh wow…" swinging the gate, it glided smoothly open, as if it was brand new. "R-Rocky! It's perfect! Thank you."
"I adjusted the hinges because they weren't tightened correctly, and added some reinforcement on the pressure of the hinge to ensure any weight wouldn't spring it out but uh," he smiled, "You're welcome."
"Shucks, I was gonna call the P.A.W. Patrol, but you beat em' to it! It's like you're already part of the team, am I right?" he laughed.
Rocky's embarrassment increased tenfold. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss it, feeling his cheeks heat stupidly bright. "I-I'm really not Famer Al! I don't like to step over bounds with these matters, but I didn't want to bother them since they always seem so b-busy so I thought I could do it but I understand if you didn't -"
"Oh Rocky! I'm just teasing." he said, "Don't take it so seriously." And before he could reply back, Farmer Al yelled to Papa Joe who stepped out of the house.
Rocky wanted to smack his head in the gutter. He really needed to calm himself down these days. He knew Farmer Al was teasing, but his mind went into overdrive at the sheer thought that people mistaken him as another member of the P.A.W. Patrol…
Huh. Member of the P.A.W. Patrol.
What an odd proposition.
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Sheering season was here, and Rocky's visits to the town lessened. He was utterly exhausted most days, and had to decline much of Ryder's visits. It was a blessing and a curse to have the harvest as an excuse.
Ever since Farmer Al pointed out Rocky's role with the P.A.W. Patrol, Rocky tried to create some space between himself and his trips to Adventure Bay. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt hyperaware to be around them, as if a weird sense of guilt bubbled in him when helping. His only solution was to rush home, return back to the farm because lord knows how much his family needed him. It's been a few weeks since he last saw them, and his grandpa kept asking him when he was heading out.
"They simply don't need me." he said honestly, and the old dog narrowed his eyes.
"Ya told em' no didn't ya?"
"Uh, I did no such thing."
He spat on the ground, and Rocky grimaced how gross his grandfather's habit was.
"Ya suck at lyin' Rocks. Worse than the triplets!" He would vent off how Rocky could be making friends, and that was when Rocky didn't know what to say, cause truthfully, what could he say? He didn't have "friends" beyond his family, and the town people, as kind as they are, had their own lives right? He couldn't intrude on the baseless matter of making a friend. They all had responsibilities, and that should be prioritized over everything.
There would be days Rocky didn't need to go to fields, but refocused his attention on the household maintenance. The pups tended to slack at those times, but Mama Fran ensured a tight grip, as they were now helping her clean out the horse shed today.
"Hiya again Rocky!"
The said pup jumped, swirling his head around and seeing a familiar Dalmatian. He didn't expect anyone to visit them, and surely not without a phone call first. Covered head to toe in straw hay, and in the middle of dragging a barrel of animal slob to the farm, Rocky definitely didn't look like the epitome of cleanliness.
"Hi…Marshall?" he glanced around, "You're alone today?"
He nodded. "If you're wondering where Ryder is, he's back in Adventure Bay."
"I see." Rocky observed Marshall's attire, beckoning in firefighter uniform. "I assume this visit isn't casual leisure."
"Sorta?" Marshall itched his head, but it was clear he didn't know what leisure meant. "Um, look, we got a big problem back in Adventure Bay with an engine- "
"Oh no no." He backed up, shaking his head. "I told Ryder I can't help with any more missions."
"Look, uh I know. I heard you're busy, and we respect your decision! Really! But this one, it's really big. Like really big. It's an engine and -"
"If it's an engine, check the motor -"
"And it's not just any engine! It's a train engine! A-And there's this girl and her pup who really need our help with it, and they can't leave without the train fixed. They're pretty much stranded in the town because of it."
He sighed after his spiel. "I'm sorry we keep bothering you with this stuff. Really. But you're like, the smartest pup we know here. And if anyone can help Ryder...it'll be you."
Rocky stared at his paws. A train engine. That's never been something he worked on before. He read about them briefly when he was into his mood of making mini trains for his siblings to play with, but it surely wouldn't compare to a lifesize engine.
He glanced up, and Marshall looked oh-so hopeful with pitiful eyes. He could tell the firepup was desperate.
"...Okay."
Marshall's eyes lit up. "R-Really?"
"Y-Yes, but...this has to be the last time because shearing season is here and - oof!"
He didn't expect to be hugged, but Marshall was too caught up in his feelings to notice Rocky's shock.
"Thank you Rocky! Ryder's gonna be so happy to see you!"
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After explaining to his grandpa and owners where he was heading, Rocky was in no time in Adventure Bay and met with Ryder and the other engineers. He truly didn't know what he could bring to the table but if Ryder thought he needed him, the least he could do was try. Give a few suggestions, and conclude the trip back.
But that didn't go exactly right.
As soon Rocky saw the enormity of the engine, his mind went into overdrive to inspect it. It was like his senses went to another world as soon as he saw something that needed to be fixed. That one-hour transpired to three, to which the engine finally thundered to life, and soot-covered Rocky was delightfully pleased at its sound.
After being thanked a hundred times by the train engineers, Ryder offered Rocky a drive back home.
"Wow, that was a tough one." Ryder commented, "I didn't think the engine was gonna stump me as bad as it should."
Rocky nodded. He too struggled on figuring out some of the parts, but thankfully bouncing ideas back with Ryder kept the pace going strong.
"Because of our efforts, I assume those who were travelling on the train will be pleased?"
"Yup. There were actually two passengers on that train who've been stuck in Adventure Bay for a few days now because of it. Now that it's fixed, they can resume their trip to Trix City."
"Trix City? That megacity hours from here?"
"Yep. Have you been?"
"No. Large cities like that would probably overwhelm me."
Ryder laughed. "It can be overwhelming for anyone to visit, but it's fairly nice. It's where I lived."
"Is that where your team came from as well?"
"If meaning where the P.A.W. Patrol originated, yes, the headquarters are there. But only Marshall and I are natives to Trix City. Chase lived somewhere else."
"I see."
"But again Rocky, I wanted to thank you for helping me. You're truly amazing at – "
"Why do you always call me Ryder?"
Ryder blinked at that, and Rocky shook his paws. "N-Not that it's an annoyance or any negative connotation, but it's confusing for me and I need an answer to quell my curiosity."
"Well...you're a smart pup Rocky." He said neutrally, "I know you would solve the problems we encounter."
"But doesn't your team have you? Like, aren't you the "mechanic" of the group?"
"True…" he drawled, "However…"
"However?"
"As you see Rocky, the P.A.W. Patrol only consists of me, Chase and Marshall. It's because we're the initial launch group, the starters to establish the flow and organization for the others to follow.
"The others?"
"I mean new members."
"…Oh."
Ryder continued. "We've been active for a little over three months now, and I know we can't continue a team of three forever due to the complexity of our job. The town is small, but to continue this will overwhelm us without additional help. Headquarters will probably propose us to add a new member soon, but I'm feeling confident they'll accept my proposal of a new position I've been drafting for awhile."
"The next member is a bit unconventional in terms of what the job entails, considering its not traditionally meant for rescues, but given what the P.A.W. Patrol is, and the good can come from it, I really feel like we need a mechanic of some sort. Someone who has a similar mindset like me, who can be quick on their feet, or I guess in this case, paws."
Rocky blinked. Long. "…Are you asking me to join the P.A.W. Patrol?"
"You need to have a formalized test to confirm that and get approval from HQ." Ryder smiled, "But yes. I would like if you signed up for the position."
Rocky truly didn't know what to say. Him, joining? Leaving his home on the farm to go live with two pups and a human he didn't know very well to do jobs around a town he just visited a month ago? What would his owners think? His grandpa? His siblings?
His…his par-
"You don't have to answer right away, because it's a big thing I'm asking." Ryder explained, "Take all the time you need."
"...I can't."
Ryder was visibly surprised by that. "It's not your thing?"
"I have my family to take care of." He said dutifully, though he wondered why the words were harder to say. "I don't have time to do rescues."
"Understandable." They were close to Rocky's house, probably a few minutes away. "Well, the option is always there for you. In case you change your mind. We're not doing trials for awhile anyway."
"You assume I'll change my mind?"
"I just think actions are louder than words." Ryder finally said, "Words can only go so far."
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"Shucks, the rain is really hittin' it hard this afternoon!" Old Gizmo exclaimed, squinting his eyes at the foggy window. "And you three wanted to go outside and play in dis weather."
"But it's spwing grandpa. We could make mudcastles!" Scout shouted, and Ash agreed. Ziggy wasn't paying attention, instead staring at the window intently. "With Wocky's help, we could make the gweatest one ever!"
"Ha! Gettin' yur brother to go in the rain is like askin' pigs ta fly. Ain't gonna happen."
Scout and Ash glanced back at their elder sibling, who was currently reading a book about physics comfortably on the couch.
He didn't even need to look up. "I'm not going outside you three."
"But please Wocky…" Ash emphasized sweetly, "You're the best builder…"
"I'll build a castle with the blocks here for you pups."
"But it's not the saaaamme…" Scout deflated. Ash whimpered.
Laughter came upon them before hearing creaking footsteps, and emerged Papa Joe from the bottom of the steps, face troubled. Old Gizmo picked it up immediately.
"Somethin' on yur mind?" he asked, straight to the point.
Papa Joe smiled grimly. "Wanna make sure the sheep are doin' alright. Wanda Turner told meh there's a flood warning in town."
Rocky stopped turning his pages.
"Ya think the gate will handle the rain?" Mrs. McKay questioned, worry visible in her face. "It didn't survive the last time."
"Not sure hun, but Imma hoping it does. Imma gonna try to patch it up or somethin' before the rain really gets rough. And Aah need to check on the sheep."
Old Gizmo grunted, not even turning to look at his grandpups. "Pups, listen ta ya big brother while Aah head out."
It took Rocky a second to finally comprehend the situation. He jumped up from his seat. "Where are you going Grandpa?"
"Where ya think Rocks? To the fields!"
"Aw, Grandpa is goin' outside?" Scout mumbled, and she whispered, "No fair."
But Rocky didn't hear. He just felt a weird sense of dread wash over him, an uneasiness he hadn't felt in ages, and he shook his head. "No…wait. Grandpa. Let's think this through."
"What's there to think?" he asked before Rocky could respond. "Aah got a job to do. Do you want the sheep to get hurt?"
"No, but you shouldn't –"Rocky wanted to say Let me go instead! but the words didn't come out fast enough. Instead he stared at his paws. "You…You shouldn't go."
Gizmo shook his head, an understanding in his voice. "Rocky, it's alright. We'll be back soon –"
"No! You won't be!" he said a bit too loudly, startling his younger brothers and sister. Rocky's voice threw them back into the conversation. "Your hearing is gonna get worse in this weather. You can barely hear out of your left one. I know."
Mentioning his hearing was a no-no zone for everyone, and Old Gizmo flared his nose. "Mah hearin' is just fine Rocks –!"
"Stop lyin' to me Grandpa!"
Ash looked worriedly between his family members. "W-Why are you two fighting?" He was on the verge of crying, and Ziggy petted his head.
Scout naturally took the lead, innocent to the atmosphere. "Why won't you let Grandpa go Wocky? Grandpa is a tough pup! And he always comes back."
"You don't know what you're talking about Scout." He said a bit too snidely, and she flinched, mouth wobbling, clearly wasn't expecting that tone. Rocky immediately faltered at his sister's hurt expression, realizing his mistake.
"Okay, Okay, break it up!" Mama Fran entered, clapping her hands together to end this standoff. "Rocky, Aah know yur concerned for your grandfather, we all are, but right now it isn't the time ta argue. They got a job to do, like we all do on the McKay farm."
Rocky didn't say anything, but his tail hung low.
"Pups, Aah want you three runnin' along now. Play in yur room. " The didn't argue, and she followed them behind.
Rocky felt his voice wavering, but he pressed on. "Please let me go with you Grandpa. I don't want to remain here if you two are out. I need to do something. Please, I, I don't want to stay. I can't stay here. "
Gizmo gave him a troubled look, but he ultimately caved when Papa Joe said, "Get yur stuff on Rocks."
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Rocky felt his chest compressed as soon as he stepped outside in the rain.
He didn't even remember the last time he actually felt a shower of rain hitting his fur, and despite his coat, it was as if the rain stabbed him.
"Rocks," Old Gizmo stated in a strangely calm voice, as he too stared at the environment. "Ya don't have to come. We understand."
He knew grandpa was giving him a way out. Another chance. If he was doing this, then he truly believed Rocky couldn't do this, and Rocky shook his head violently.
"I'm okay." He breathed loud, "Let's just go."
On the truck, the ride was rough, considering the rain hitting them and the roads turning to slush. He knew his grandpa kept looking at him, but Rocky pointedly refused to make eye contact. He didn't trust his face to give reassurance to his family.
When arriving, the gate hadn't fallen, and to the family, it was a relief. Papa Joe immediately took out his tools and began checking the hinges and pieces.
"I'm gonna re-enforce da bars! Join yur grandpa Rocky and calm the sheep down. Then bring 'em to the stands. Make sure they don't go out of sight and into da creek."
Rocky almost wheezed. Oh gosh the creek. It must be overflowing soon. So much water, so much water…
"Rocky!" His grandpa called, "Follow mah lead okay?! We're gonna go 'round the sheep, guiding them slowly. The rain isn't scaring them right now, so we can still control the herd!"
"O-Okay." He said, and his voice didn't sound like him, "Okay." Just focus on the task, focus on the task at hand!
Rocky and Old Gizmo circled the sheep, and most of them complied easily, following into the shed Mr. McKay built. Rocky really tried to ignore the sensation of his fur getting wet under his coat, and for awhile, he was, concentrating on the sheep.
Yet, it was when a sheep began panicking and running away from the herd was when it changed.
"W-Wait!" Rocky yelled, running and trying to catch up before it got far. The sheep got bold and literally ran passed their outer rim, but it tripped and began sliding down the steep hillside, towards the creek.
Rocky froze at the top. He stared at the vigorous water down below, close to the sheep that was now frantic at where it ended up, eager to climb back up.
It was there. Water. And lots and lots of it.
He knew he was reacting. Badly, to the water below him. Rocky knew he needed to leave now to stop an episode from happening, but everything about this…the weather, the creek, the water, it all crumbled on him and all he could do was panic silently in shock.
"Rocky!" His grandpa yelled, seeing how his grandson stared blankly at the scene in front of him, knowing exactly why his grandson looked so terrified. "Wait! Imma comin' over!"
Hearing his grandpa's voice suddenly shocked him awake, and Rocky scrambled purchase to get away, but of course, mud caught his pawing and his eyes widened what was happening.
He was falling down to the creek.
"Rocky!" his grandpa yelled, and the voice got farther and farther as he tumbled over. All he kept hearing was his name, but he couldn't respond, falling deeper and nearing the raging creek, and fear engulfed his mind.
"Rocky! Do you hear me?! Rocky!"
"Rocky…"
His heart stilled.
That last call wasn't grandpa.
It was his father.
And then he saw black.
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Hearing the thunder outside, little Rocky blinked his eyes blearily, seeing the shadow of his father putting his hat on and some light raincoat.
"Where you going Papa?" he asked.
Hunter froze, turning to his son with a smile. "Why you up Rocks?"
"You're up." He countered, "And it's not the morning."
"Ah got me there." He went to his son, leaning low. "There's some heavy rain causing the fields to flood up. Me, yur grandpa, and Papa Joe are gonna check on the herd. Make sure they safe."
"Can I come?"
"Oh no," he said, "Too dangerous. And you don't like gettin' wet now don't you Rocky?"
Rocky slummed in defeat. Getting wet was gross. And it ruins metal, rusting it, making it unsubtle. A tinker's worst enemy, his grandpa once said, and Rocky took it to heart.
"What about your mum?" Hunter added, "Can't leave her alone pregnant. She'll get worried if both of us are gone."
"Okay…" his ears flickered, "Do what you need to do Papa."
He patted his head, soothing Rocky's worries. "I'll be back soon. Just go back to sleep for me alright?"
And Rocky watched his father's back as he left, into the rain.
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"Gizmo! Hunter!" Mr. McKay tried to block out the rain hitting at his eyes as he jumped from his truck. The winds were brutal, and the man stumbled a bit at the strength. "Try ta get the stray sheep ta move ahead! The higher ground da better! I'll get em' main herd and start takin' them back to da farm!"
Arriving on scene, the gate was hinged off, and majority of the sheep were scattered, some deep in the field while the others ran towards the ravine. Considering they didn't have a big enough vehicle to transport all the sheep to their main farmhouse, it looked like they were gonna have to do in a dozen trips.
Nodding, they ran off with their owner's wishes, bringing the closest number of sheep to Papa Joe and blocking them escape as he put them in his truck. He then drove off with the first batch of sheep, and the dogs were alone to gather the rest.
"Get…over…here!" Old Gizmo grunted, chasing the frantic sheep. "Hunter, bring em' in centre and near, away from da outer fence!"
There was so much mud on in the grass, running was proving to be a challenge, and the two almost kept slipping under the collapse of the rain. There was a really strong wind that literally knocked the air outta Gizmo, and he lost his pawing, thrashed to the ground. His son ran to him.
"Pops!"
He grunted, spiting out the mud he accidentally consumed. "I'm fine Hunter!" dismissed harshly, he said, "Don't worry about me!"
Hunter looked back in concern, but nodded as he went ahead, eventually his father followed.
"Move ya sheep!" Gizmo yelled, "Darn! The water is too high! Even if they cross, they're too scared!"
"Shelia!" Hunter screamed at a sheep, he knew all too familiar. "Is everyone here?"
"Baaa don't know!" she yelled, frantic as ever. While Sheep weren't the smartest animals, Shelia was unique in a sense she didn't the follower mentality. And the only sheep to converse back with the dogs, acting as translator. "Aah tried to tell em' to go baaaaack but they wouldn't listen to meeeee. Some went down thereeeee."
And she nudged to the creek.
Both Gizmo and Hunter paled. This… wasn't good.
The sheep continued to wail in panic, with some trying to run away from the group, but Gizmo barked them back into submission, all while trying to think how da heck they were gonna solve this –
"Take the sheep with Shelia over to the higher ground. I'll go to the lower region and grab the rest of the strays."
It took him a moment to realize his son was telling him a plan. "W-Wha…ya crazy?!" he squawked. "The water might rush at any moment! What if ya get caught in it?"
"If I don't, the sheep will drown!" He said urgently, "It's a risk I'm gonna have ta take."
"And a risk Aah don't want you to do!" he argued back, "I'll do it!"
"Then what about the sheep up here pops?!"
"I'll do that too!"
"Pops!" Hunter yelled, trying to get his voice loud over the slamming rain and thunder. "I know I'm your son, but out here, I'm yur partner. You need ta trust in me. Please."
Gizmo, the confident dog he was, looked utterly shackled by his son's suggestion. He glanced at the panicked sheep, down to the creek, and then finally his son's face, looking at him with a pleading, yet understanding eyes.
The older dog finally groaned loud. Frustrated. "Gosh, Aah hate that you're right." He grumbled.
Hunter grinned. "Only learned from the best!"
"Only learned from the best my tail!" he mocked, trying to hide his blooming worry for his son. "I'll do yur little plan, but Aah better nawt here you divin' into the creek like the silly pup you can be."
As Gizmo guided the remaining to higher ground, Hunter dashed to the creek, mindful of the mud and slush that would easily throw him over. He spotted about a dozen sheep on the ledge, even in a worse condition then the other ones they found.
He narrowed his eyes. He could do this!
Talking with his broken sheep speech wasn't a good strategy, as they were too frenzy to listen. Thus, he tried barking them into the direction to follow. In his panic he realized it wasn't working either.
Hunter had nothing on him. Nothing. Even a small too would have made him feel more comfortable here. But all he had was his wits and his body strength, and under this beating rain, it was wearing him down.
They were thrashing about, one almost hitting Hunter's face, but another began slippin' into the water.
Hunter bolted. He tugged the sheep's wool, trying to drag the animal back on his side, but because the sheep was so much larger than him, the weight began dragging him down too.
Hunter clawed to stay up, but he felt gravity taking him and oh no oh no –
But something sharp tugged at his back, pulling him back up.
Being thrown up, Hunter was relieved to see his father. "Pops!"
He however didn't look pleased. "Aah told ya no late night swims!"
Hunter couldn't help but laugh, despite the dire situation. "Appreciate da warning!"
Now with two shepherd dogs, it seemed their chances of survival increased slightly. The two coordinated methods how to get the sheep moving, and were determined to not let their owner's sheep drown, even when the raising water beckoned at their paws, and their fur soaking in exhaustion and soot.
After several tries, the first sheep finally moved along the sharp edge, heading up.
"Keep going!" Hunter screamed, his voice hoarse. "Follow ahead! Follow ahead!"
Suddenly, a loud sound of water swooshing startled the dogs, and to their horror the creek finally overfilled.
They began spiriting up, with Gizmo following Hunter, trying to reach a point where they can avoid the strength of the water.
But the flood caught them easily, and Gizmo couldn't keep up with his son anymore.
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Mama Fran sat quietly with her tea in the kitchen when the back door swung open.
Papa Joe stood there, eyes panicked and his clothes soaked to the bone. He stumbled in with his rain boots, and Fran rushed to grab him.
"Did they come back?" he asked sharply to his wife.
"Who? The dogs? W-Why would they – "
"Darn it." He was shaking, clearly in no proper condition to leave, but he warily turned around. "Aah must go back out. They must still be lookin' for em' sheep."
"In dis weather?!" Fran flabbergasted, "The sheep could be anywhere! It's too dark to find em'. Call it off hun! They're gonna get mighty ill out there!"
"I know, but darn it, Aah cant find any of em'! The flooding is cloggin' up the roads." He grabbed another flashlight and shoved it into his pocket. "Aah have ta find em' Fran. Aah have to."
"I'm comin' with ya."
"No, no Fran," he shook his head, "Aah need to make sure someone's here if they do make here on their own. Aah need someone to take care of em'." He then grabbed another jacket, not bothering to zip it up. "If none of us come back in an hour call da sheriff."
She nodded briskly as he ventured back out into the storm. Fran sighed, clenching the table tightly, but suddenly felt eyes watching her. She turned to the living room archway, and there standing was her very pregnant dog, staring worriedly at her.
And it was about 4 hours later there was a knock at the front door.
Fran practically flew to get it, with Buttercup struggling to catch up. She hadn't slept a wink, thought she kept checking back on her sleeping son, who slept blissfully in his bed.
"Chief! Did you find em'? Tell us ya did!"
The man entered slowly, his brown uniform wet from the rain. Sometime, Fran had to call the local police because no one returned home. Throughout the night, Fran ensured the farmhouse was protected, re-attaching it with tarps, collecting leakage, and easing the barn animals of the storm. It was the only thing she could do to keep her mind busy, and comfort her dog.
The chief pulled his hat from his head, and clenched it to his chest.
"I…I found em'. Yur husband sprained his ankle and wrist, but thankfully Mrs. Donver in the area found him at the side of da road. The rain isn't as harsh as it was 'while ago, but it's still unsafe to travel. We're preparing to move him to da doctor's office to attend to his injuries properly."
"And the Border Collies?"
"The older one is fine, barely but fine. Found him hanging on a tree branch unconscious in the water. He wasn't responsive at first, but we got a pulse. With yur husband now."
"And what about the younger one?" Fran interjected. "There's another Border Collie with them! His name's Hunter! Where's he–?!"
"I'm sorry."
Buttercup suddenly couldn't breathe.
"He was dead on site."
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Returning home, Papa Joe didn't have the heart to talk. Now bed-ridden, he was willing to converse only with Gizmo. There were nights he cried, but mostly he kept a face as he tried to rebuild what they lost.
Now, that was a bad situation. The entire town was a bit of a mess. The inner townfolks were okay, but those who strayed on the edges received the blunt of the damage, farms ruined, roads clogged, tress knocked down.
For the McKays, they nearly lost their entire flock from that night, all drowned from the rising water levels. Even those that Gizmo managed to save some fell sick and were unable to move.
The animal doctor said while Gizmo didn't have any external injuries, his hearing was noticeably impaired. Because he was outside almost the entire night in the freezing rain, he was now partially deaf in both ears. The doctors said when he got older it'll get worse, thus he must take care of his health more.
But Gizmo, stubborn Gizmo, refused to accept anything was wrong with him. He focused his attention completely on Rocky and Buttercup, shoving his own sorrow on the side to care for his family.
Throughout the day, Buttercup would be wailing, to the point where if she was having an episode, Rocky was pushed out the house till it subsided. He once tried to comfort her, but it only made her cry harder, as if she couldn't see her pup.
After the burial of her mate, she suddenly stopped her tears.
It was staggering to adjust to. Rocky didn't understand why his mother wasn't reacting to anything. Before a tug would get her to cry, but now she was lifeless like a robot. There were days Rocky felt like he got his mother back, but then it'll return back into this listless gaze in her eyes.
Mama Fran became increasingly worried for her pet, and tried to make her eat, but nothing made the terrier budge. If she ate, she would puke it up, her walk became a stumble, and she was terribly weak. All she wanted to do was stay in her room.
Rocky wanted to talk about his father, so so much, to share his pain and how the feeling of never seeing his father smiling again broke something in him. But his mother wouldn't allow it, too absorbed in her own sorrow. The only comfort was sleeping in his father's workshop when he wanted to cry.
"She's going through some stuff Rocks," Gizmo said, as the two sat on the porch. His grandpa, crazy as he acted, was the only one truly 'coping' with Hunter's death with a semblance of control. "We need to give her time."
The pup wondered how much.
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Rocky was cleaning the chicken's barn stalls when he noticed the vet's car pulling into the driveway.
It was coming by more and more often now. Rocky assumed it was because his mother was pregnant, and despite the tragedy that happened, she was still carrying his late father's pups. Curiosity overtook him, and he ventured over to see what was happening, peering from the windows.
"Her health isn't getting better. It's getting worse." Rocky assumed it was the vet speaking.
Mama Fran sighed in her hand. "B-But that's typical right? She's always been a sickly dog, and she would take medicines to balance her health. With Rocky, her health dipped like right now, but she'll get better like before, right? Just lots of rest?"
"If what you say is true, then we must hope it is. Because her health is declining, and because she is pregnant, our options are limited."
"Options?"
"Well, we can run some more tests, but I'm thinking we might have to do an ultrasound scan. I wanna ensure we can rule out all possibilities."
"What possibility?"
"…Don't wanna worry yah, but her symptoms might be somethin' serious. Her blood results…we gotta wait and see if its showing signs of abnormal growth or some blood-related illness –"
"Damn." The voice pulled Rocky out and didn't realize the family cat, Nibbles, was watching as well. He's been absent recently since Hunter's death, doing who knows what. Rocky's seen him talk to Old Gizmo, but about what, he didn't know. "Didn't think her illness was gonna escalate that fast."
"Escalate?"
He arched a brow. "Oh great pup. You didn't know? She's always been sick."
"B-But that's why she goes to the vet. Mama takes special pills – "
"But Rocky, don't you see? It's not working anymore." He sighed, shaking his head as he turned back in the barn. "It's getting worse."
Rocky's stomach dropped. He didn't want things to get worse.
He didn't want something else cruely taken away from him.
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It was only two weeks later the seizures began.
The household created a protocol when it happened, till the point young Rocky was able to handle alone if need be. Her episodes were an ugly site, but Rocky handled it shockingly calm, focusing on the logistics of her condition and nothing of his own worries. She would sleep a lot more too, either in her room or in the garden, but she eventually stayed in her room entirely unless someone moved her. It also didn't help she began developing hallucinations, not recognizing where she was or who she was with. Those moments hurt Rocky the most.
Once after an episode, as Rocky cleaned up her room with Mrs. McKay, the mother he knew would come back, and their owner would coo her dog with kisses and hurriedly get her tea while she could. It was those fleeting moments Buttercup's eyes recognized Rocky, and reached out to him.
"Mama's sorry she's sick." She admitted softly.
Rocky patted his mother's head. "You have nothing to be sorry for Mama. Just rest okay?"
When she smiled, so tired and sick and defeated, Rocky's chest clenched, but kept up a face, talking to her about his day and tinkering till she fell back asleep.
Rocky knew his mother wasn't going to last.
And with all his knowledge, he couldn't do anything about it.
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It was a rainy day when the triplets were born.
Rocky didn't remember much what happened, only sitting on the porch because being inside meant hearing his mother's cries of labour. He was with her in the beginning, trying to comfort her with his grandpa and owners as they waited for the vet, but once the actual labour started, he was ushered out of the room to avoid seeing the worst.
He sat with Papa Joe on the porch, no mood to talk or frankly do anything. The air was thick of a murky smell, like a change of season, a change Rocky dreaded in his heart that what will happen will come true.
Rocky was eventually left alone completely, not daring to go back inside, but he heard from Papa Joe that all his siblings were born healthy. His parents picked out names long time ago, on the assumption they would have a lot of pups, so the names Ash, Scott and Ziggy were chosen from the dozen they listed. They were semi lively, and Rocky saw how all different they were in fur. Mama Fran was nursing them, because his mother was still with the vet, Papa Joe and Old Gizmo, secretive as ever.
His grandpa stumbled out of the labour room sometime later, finding Rocky still waiting on the porch, staring at the rain.
"Rocky…can ya please come inside? We gotta –"
"I know Grandpa." He said simply, unmoving as the ground beneath him. "I knew…it was gonna happen. Someday."
Nothing was said for several moments. Old Gizmo breathed thickly. "Do you…wanna say goodbye?" he finally settled on.
Rocky wanted to say no. He already did. Weeks, days, hours, minutes ago. He recited the feeling of loneliness and pain that was sure to come, but everytime, a sharp pain withered in his chest as if he was drowning, like if it was new and sudden idea.
But still, he said a shaky "okay" and followed his grandpa inside, seeing his mother one last time.
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(When he first met the pups, asleep soundly in their bed, Rocky leaned over and rested his head at their side.
"Hello," he whispered, his eyes red from crying, but he tried to smile for them, cause he didn't want them to see a sad face. "I'm Rocky. You're big brother.")
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Blearily opening his eyes, Rocky felt cushions and warmth surrounding his body. Usually warm colours greeted his eyes of his home, and he quickly realized he was in the living room, on a spot on the couch he was all too familiar with.
But a strange sight beheld him. He saw Ryder sitting with him, reading a magazine a few feet away.
"R-Ryder?" he mouthed, his voice croaking.
The human turned to him with a welcoming grin. "Good evening Rocky."
"You're...You're in my living room?"
"Yes. You were sleeping for awhile now."
Rocky blinked. "But why if I may ask?"
"Mrs. McKay called the P.A.W. Patrol to help with your family herd. She was worried about you three handling it on your own."
"What…" it suddenly dawned on him, "Wait. Where's my grandpa? Papa Joe? A-Are they okay Ryder? Please tell me they're – "
"Woah, woah! Rocky. Slow down. And yes, don't worry. They're perfectly fine. The only one who got injured was you."
"Injured…oh." He remembered the water. "I didn't drown?"
He laughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "No Rocky. You passed out from the fall due to shock. A minor headbump you got, but Marshall patched you up. Just ice and medication for the swelling."
Rocky shuffled from his spot, feeling a bit of a throb on his head, and a little light headed, but he sat up, tugging the blanket off his body. He immediately heard wood creak, and Mama Fran appeared, face joyful.
"Rocky!" she hugged him, checking his face, "Ya alright? Ooh, Aah hope that bump didn't hurt ya too bad cause Aah got homemade methods for headaches."
He shook his head, smiling. "I'm okay Mama Fran. Really –"
"Nevermind! I'm makin' it!" she jumped up, completely focused on her thoughts. "Everyone's gonna be so relieved to see ya up and atta."
Rushing to the kitchen, Ryder laughed lightly at the site. "Your owner is very sweet. She kept insisting on giving me and the pups tea."
"Where's Chase and Marshall?"
"I sent them back awhile ago to watch the tower."
"Right…" Sighing, Rocky sat up straighter. "I'm sorry for troubling you three." He said, finally taking in that the P.A.W. Patrol came here, out of their way, to help him and his family. "I…I should've handled the situation better."
"Better? You did the best you could, given the circumstances – "
"No, if I hadn't chickened up because of my stupid, stupid phobia, I would've not been here, recovering!" he snapped.
Ryder silently watched Rocky's body tremble in frustration, a neutral expression he gave.
"…I've noticed you don't like water."
Rocky swallowed thickly. It was an open secret with his family, but with strangers, admitting it suddenly felt terrifying.
"It's a juvenile fear." Rocky tried to dismiss, "Some dogs don't like water, and I'm the same."
"But it's a different meaning to you, isn't it?"
Ryder caught the lie quick. Glancing away, he nodded stiffly. "Water doesn't bring good memories for me."
"…Considering you went into a storm Rocky, you're incredibly brave."
"Bravery doesn't mean anything if you end up dying." He said hollowly, and his words rang deep at what he felt. "Logic is reliable. Not valour."
"Relying on one over the other can be dangerous." Ryder said, "But understanding how to balance both…that's true success. Logic can keep us back, just as bravery can push us off course."
"I guess…"
Sensing the tone, Ryder stood up. "Well, now that you're up, I'm gonna let your family be. Can't keep the pups alone at the tower for too long."
"Understandable – "
"My offer still stands Rocky." He said again, and Rocky was at lost at what to say. "I know you don't think there's value of joining, but I do. We all do. You just need to believe that."
He said nothing else, leaving through the door and Rocky with his thoughts.
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A/N: Ree I'm sorry I making the pups' backstories sad. I'm angsty at heart. I hope this chapter cleared up about Rocky's parents and the reveal of his fear. We got 1 chap to go and off to Zuma (who's story is way more light-hearted but equally interestig, more akin to Marshall's if I have to compare)
If you saw, Skye got an indirect mention (and it wont be the end of Skye's cameo appearences lol) .
Thank you to all those who continuously read, comment and follow my work! (critique/suggestions are welcomed!) ^_^
P.S REVIEW!
Till next time,
momo's little cloud