Monday, March 18, 2024

Monday Question

 Have your parents bought anything for you for anxiety?

Not me, but my parents tried pills and thunder shirts for Pocket and River with little success.

Sunday, March 17, 2024

The Ruby Rose Report: What Happened Next Door

 

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was watching Oppenheimer with my parents and thinking of my 131st great-grandfather Oliver, who lived in Belgium during the war and originated the famous Griffy scowl by frowning at the Nazis as they marched around town. I don’t have a resting bitch face; I have a resting bitch stop goose-stepping on the grass, you Nazi bastard face.

I am always alert, and when I heard doors shut, I jumped down and ran to the window.

I saw policemen with guns drawn creeping past the house. They were headed towards our next-door neighbor, who has been rumored to be something nefarious; I don’t believe it. They have an old car and the worst lawn in the development. If they are criminals, they need to go back to robbing school because they suck at it.

I could tell the police did not want to alert the suspects that they were approaching. The lead detective put his hand on the doorknob. Everyone held their breath.

Then I began to cry loudly.

The police kicked in the door and told everyone in the house to get on the ground.

I stayed watching it like it was an HBO show outside my window.

I saw a suspect running out the back door, and I barked louder. I owed it to the police for tipping their play.

They caught the man in his backyard. “I would have got away if it wasn’t for that stupid barking dog,” he said while walking to the waiting squad car.

He was told my barking had given him a chance to run.

At least being vocal had supported both sides. Foley would be proud.

Even after the suspect was apprehended, I attempted to help the police by barking at them where to search, but they don’t listen to non-commissioned dogs.

My parents kept telling me to get away from the windows and be quiet while they looked out the windows and loudly spoke about what they saw. Finally, it was over, and the cops left. I stood at the window, barking thank you and goodbye.

I think I may have a future as a law enforcement dog or at least as a warning animal for some high-level criminals who can afford a Farmer’s Dog subscription.

My only regret

I missed the end of Oppenheimer.

I will never know how the war ended

 

 

 

 

Friday, March 15, 2024

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: One Last Time with Nellie


 


Nellie and her mom sat on the couch after church, as they had hundreds of times before, but today was different. It was the last time.

The week before Nellie had taken ill. She had trouble peeing. When this occurs a parent’s mind goes to the simplest solution, an easily treated bladder infection.

But, when the diagnosis was made, it was both the furthest thing from Momma Lea’s mind, and the one she feared the most: Bladder cancer.

At Nellie’s age there was no treatment, and, since humans are more humane with dogs than they are to themselves, arrangements were made for the one who would guide Nellie to the Bridge would do so from her living room, so she could peacefully slip away next to her mom.     

Nellis lay next to her mom, softly snoring, at peace, knowing her job on the mortal side was done, and she had done it perfectly. Her mom was anxious, listening to her, each breath sounding like the click of a minute hand counting down to permanent midnight.

When humans begin school, the first thing teachers do, unintentionally, is rob children of their ability to see magic. Being an adult human is hard, and there is no room for magic. When it happens, the human mind lies to the soul, telling it a logical fib wiping the magic away.

Momma Lea will tell you a vet came to her home, gave Nellie the final shot, and let her slip away to the Bridge.

It was the lie her brain told head.

It is sad, because what happened was so much more comforting.

Momma Lea fell asleep next to Nellie. When she was stirred awake she had dogs on either side of her. Sandy, her heart dog, had returned to help Nellie transition to the Immortal side.

Nellie sat on her mom’s lap and gave her a thousand kisses, then revealed the truth, which one does at the end, and spoke to Momma Lea, thanking her for everything she did, for being the best mom she could hope for, and for making every day of her life an indescribable pleasure. Momma Lea told Nellie that she had been a fantastic child, and Lea had no idea how she would go on, but vowed she would, for the sake of her angels.                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Sandy sat in her mom’s lap again. He fit perfectly. There were kisses, tears, and words of love that reached across the River of Life to fill her heart in a way it hadn’t been since Sandy had last patted around their Kentucky home.

Then came the final but not permanent goodbye which I cannot recount here because it was too powerful for any language except the forgotten Elven.

Then, paw and paw, Nellie followed Sandy’s steps to the Bridge, where she was met with so much love it blew her ears back.

As that happened Lea’s mind told her a lie, that the vet who helped her baby would go to her true forever home.

The entire incident was wiped away, except in dreams, and a nugget of what happened that stayed with Lea.

That, at the end of this hard life, is a place where all the love she had given she will get back the day she passes.

It is in Sandy, Nellie, and others she had lost.

The brain allows that secret, and the beauty awaiting all humans at the end of their journey.

It is the only thing that can keep a human moving forward in this wicked world.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        


Thursday, March 14, 2024

Poetry Thursday

 

 Angel Sammys and Teddy have provided for us a new picture to inspire the poet inside of us all.

Here is today's picture and poem 


 


Wherever he went men trembled in fear.

The meanest son-of-a-bitch in this hemisphere.

Whatever he saw he did maliciously destroy

He is the outlaw Baby Boy

 

He was so mean be made men quake

Especially if it was an hour past his bedtime and he was still awake

Some of the world’s most dangerous criminals he did employ

He is the outlaw Baby Boy.

 

Townsfolk knew there was only one way to be safer

To stock up on his teething wafer

If not no one cold imagine the suffering that would be

When they faced the wrath of the outlaw Baby Boy

 

He struck with the venom of a viper.

Especially if he had a long-filled diaper.

And if he had partaken of too much Rob Roy

There was no calming the outlaw Baby Boy.

 

The air was filled with young girls squeals

When he rode in on a bike with three wheels

He had a girl in every state from Maine to Illinois

All wanting the title Mrs. Outlaw Baby Boy

 

He was responsible for many a crime wave

And he had lowered his enemies in his grave

The police would be fill with joy

If they could catch the Outlaw Baby Boy.

 

They had no clue what he would do

When he turned the age of two

And became an ambulatory.

Outlaw Baby Boy

 

The best advice given to the village folks

Was to listen for the sound of baseball cards in spokes

 And hope when you search the house you don’t’ find playing with a toy

The Outlaw Baby Boy

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Monday, March 11, 2024

Monday Question

 Have your parents ever made a mistake with a pet that they regret?

A few ago, Pocket had some butt problems that they thought were an impacted anal gland. It got drained, but Pocket kept licking it, so they put pants on it so she couldn't. They checked it a couple of days later, and it was worse. It was an allergy, terrible itching, and po. Poor couldn't get it. She got medication, and it cleared up, but my parents still feel guilty

Monday Question

  Have your parents bought anything for you for anxiety? Not me, but my parents...