I never met Rocky, but I hear he was adorable. No, I'm not talking another dead baby. I know that's what you've come to expect here, so I wanted to clear that up first thing. lol. Rocky was apparently a rocking horse Christmas ornament made by Samuel's little hands. Rocky was apparently a TASTY Christmas ornament who met his demise in the mouth of one of the four-legged freaks we call our dogs. These guys have now demonstrated a taste for sourdough clay, Valentine's candy, wood, and a "rubbery substance" (my husband's oh-so-helpful description of Rocky's makeup).
Samuel was so proud of Rocky. He told me about him when I got home Tuesday evening. He wanted to show Rocky to me, but couldn't seem to find him. "I'm sure I put him here on this table." Uh...yeah...are you new here? The dogs are ALWAYS snatching things to eat off that table. That's why we have a "no food on that table" rule.
I found the wire that was used to hang Rocky...lying on the floor next to my recliner and I just knew. Poor Rocky. I feel sad about a Christmas ornament. Of course I do. Sam named him, for God's sake! I never even got to lay eyes on him. Good Christ...anybody sense a running theme in my life here? It's almost comical at this point.
Note to self, do NOT name Christmas ornaments or you will be an emotional mess when they meet their untimely demise.