Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Sunday, July 27, 2014
After a couple of quiet weeks we were inundated with puppy prayers this week. When us angels receive prayer requests we are required to go up the mountain to the Big Guy and give him a print out of all the prayers and he decides yes or no. Often it is no but we still owe it to the mortal souls united in prayer to get an answer.
There were several pups we got prayer requests for this week but by far the most were for Cooper. This is his story: (As always the names are the same because we are all innocent.)
Last Sunday was a bad day in Cooper’s house as he, and his brothers Romeo and Chipper all fell ill showing signs of being lethargic, not wanting to eat and in Cooper’s case vomiting. Their Mom was most concerned about Cooper who has been battling IMHA for years and seems to have had it licked, but he is still very susceptible to a viral disease.
The next day Chipper and Romeo were doing better but Cooper was the same, showing no interest in food, very lethargic and miserable. He had the urge to do his business out of the back end but wasn’t able to. When he drank water he threw it up He had no interest in food. His Mom had been down this road before with his IMHA and it is not a good road.
Unsurprisingly he had to stay in the hospital on IV antibiotics for at least a day with a very high white count. The more the vet observed our friend the more concerned she became about him He was dehydrated and “presented” himself as very lethargic. His Mom was shaken to her core.
The vet let Cooper go home but didn’t have a diagnosis. Cooper would have to go back the next day for more steroids, antibiotics and fluids. The vet hoped that Cooper’s Mom could get him to eat some cottage cheese or boiled chicken. He also had to wear the cone of shame which did not improve his disposition.
In the morning Cooper was showing signs of recovery. He followed his Mom into the kitchen in the morning and ate a tiny piece of boiled chicken he had refused the night before, then gobbled down some more. When they arrived at the vet she was delighted to learn that Copper had eaten and that he looked better.
By nightfall Cooper was on the road to recovery. The vet had determined that the pack had been exposed to something viral and because of Cooper past with IMHA he did not bounce back the way his brothers did.
The next morning Cooper was a little lethargic, perhaps from his long battle to get back to good health. He has since been recovering nicely and we angels are very happy that the answer was yes
Also getting answered prayers this week were Barnum and hopefully Chelsea. Barnum had a major incident this week. He went into convulsions, couldn’t walk and seemed confused. A vet wanted him to have an expensive and dangerous surgery for a slipped disc without examining her but his Mom knows her boy, knew he wasn’t in pain, and watched him closely. He slowly recovered, and while we don’t have an answer to what caused the event, he is getting better, and it is obvious that he is not in pain and was not suffering from a slipped disc.
Chelsea has a leg injury and was on pain meds this week. We brought prayers up to the mountain that it was nothing torn or broken. We have not heard an update so we are hoping ono news is answered prayers.
So thank you for a week of answered prayers.
(During writing of this I was called to swear in my old friend Onyx who came to the Bridge this week. Onyx’s body had given out after 13 years. He is young and happy again, but his Mom misses him very much. Not all prayers get answered. If they did there would be no need to pray.)
Saturday, July 26, 2014
I don’t know how humans are supposed to spend their Fourth of Julys. It was only my second one. But I don’t think they were meant to go through the weekend celebrating the nation’s birthday (and Foley’s) wet, hot, tired and frustrated.
The first cause of frustration, and the main cause of the heat, was a central air conditioner that did not like blowing cold air. Each day, at the hottest point of the afternoon, the air conditioner would stop blowing cold air and start blowing hot air until the sun began to go down, when it would start blowing cold air again.
Daddy called a plumbing company and two days later a nice smelling Asian American man arrived. When our Grampy was alive Daddy was critical of him because he never wanted a home health aide with an accent because Grampy said he could not understand them. Daddy felt this was foolish. But when they got outside, and the Asian American man began asking Daddy about the central air unit, and Daddy didn’t understand what he was saying, Daddy just kept saying Uh-Huh because he didn’t want to appear racist.
About three days later the air conditioner began to blow warm air again. Daddy called the air conditioner people and they sent the little nice smelling Asian American man back. Mommy told the man that the compressor keeps overheating and shutting off. The man told Mommy that is not what Daddy said. Mommy began to speak and he said: “I no talk to you. Bring your husband here.”
Now if you know my Mommy she does not like being dismissed by anyone. She went to the bathroom and told Daddy the air conditioning man was there and needed to speak to him. Daddy hurried out and the air conditioning man said something and Daddy said “Uh-huh.” Daddy knew Mommy would not be happy if she had to pay more money and the system still didn’t work so he carefully described what the problem was and he was able to work out an understanding with the man The repairman cleaned the central air, checked all sorts of gadgets, and, after $400.00 he said the system was now fixed.
It worked for a week. Then, on July 3, it started blowing warm air again. Daddy turned it off until the sun went down. Mommy and Daddy had a loud discussion. Mommy wanted to hire a new company to look at it, Daddy said they would have to start from scratch with a new company, although we think he liked the Asian gentleman, and if the new guy didn’t fix the air conditioner it would be do to a lack of Daddy’s intellectual skills and not his verbal skills.
They decided that to keep the air conditioner from overheating they would shut it off a few hours a day. Since then it has only blown warm air once, and it was on a day they forgot to turn it down. So Daddy hasn’t had any more awkward conversations with angry men.
Then on the Fourth of July the rain came. Another thing Daddy likes to do besides pretending her can understand people doing important work on his house with accents is to reduce his carbon footprint, which I think is silly since he has uncommonly small feet for a grown man, so Daddy has a rain barrel. It has a faucet about six inches high, and then another one near the bottom. It doesn’t create enough water pressure to use a hose so you have to fill a watering can, but you can’t do it from the bottom spigot and when the water gets below the upper spigot you can’t use the barrell so Daddy put it on blocks and strapped a bungee cord around it attached to a trellis.
First the gutters began to come loose from the barrel. Daddy had to cut them and sliced up his hands when he did.. After getting his hands tended to he checked on the barrell and found out the weight of the water was knocking it off the blocks and pulling down the trellis. He went back out in the pouring rain and wrestled the barrell off the blocks. When he came in he was soaked to the bone. He stripped down and threw his pants in the wash. In the pants pocket was his I Phone and when he realized it was there it was drowned.
Daddy went online and did all the silly things you are supposed to do, put it in alcohol, put in the rice. It came on just long enough for him to say goodbye and then was gone forever. Luckily his plan called for him to get an upgrade and Foley had hidden most of his information in one of her clouds. Mommy got a new phone too, and nothing brings tension and drama to a house like new electronics.
I hope that the drama is over for the summer, as long as the air conditioning holds out, and the water barrel doesn’t tip over and Daddy doesn’t wash his phone.
Oh it’s going to be a long summer
Friday, July 25, 2014
Dear Aunt Foley: I just read on the computer that we dogs have floppy ears, patches of white fur, juvenile faces and small jaws because we have been domesticated. Is any of this true? - Sophie
Dear Sophie: Did a human write the study? If the answer to that question is yes then the answer to your question is hell no. Human don’t understand anything about dogs. That’s why they keep studying us. Humans can’t accept things they don’t understand. When they get frustrated about things the don’t understand they try to blow it up. But I don’t think we need to worry about that.
First let’s address the floppy ears as a sign of domestication. I had one floppy ear which would mean I was half domesticated although Mommy would tell you I was a tough, independent little dog who could have survived in the wilderness if so needed. Pocket has very erect ears and she is so domesticated she has trouble surviving when she goes out for a pee. River has floppy ears and she spent so much time on the wild streets of Florida during her youth she came home pregnant. So the ear theory is false.
Patches of white fur? Well none of us have white fur on us, and we know lots of dogs who have white fur, including Dad’s first dog Barney, who was intact, ran free, ruled the neighborhood, made lots of little Barneys and even stole his own food. Does that sound domesticated to you?
Juvenile faces? Does that mean cute faces? Of course we have cute faces. Not because we are domesticated but because we want to get picked. Dog’s have always lived by the law of survival of the fittest and now that means survival of the cutest because they cutest always find their forever home quickly. We become cute so a human pick us over the next dog, being cute isn’t a sign of domestication, it’s a sign of cut throat viciousness.
Small jaws? I weighed six pounds. How big a jaw did they want me to have? If I had a big jaw I would have walked around all day with my jaw on the ground. And I’ve seen many small jawed humans and never once have they got on their back and ask for a belly rub. At least not in public
In short, any study of dogs by humans should be ignored. We are experts about them but they know nothing about us.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
While I lived on the mortal side of the mortal side of the River of Life I must admit I did not find many things sacred: There was my kitty condo, my food dish, Mommy’s lap, and the big bed we all slept in. It could only be used for one thing: Sleep. No playing, no monkey business, nothing but sleeping. A cute Yorkie is birth control that even Hobby Lobby could get behind.
But when I gaze into the River of LIfe to see my favorite Mortal spot, where I always felt safe and knew nothing bad could happen to me I am very angered to see the rolling around, the nipping, the genital licking, the back lying with spread legs, that is going on in my bed. Pocket and River how could you!
River, we all know, being an unwed mother, is a handful in the sack, and I can’t complain about her not respecting the B. But when Pocket was a puppy she was allowed into the bed and she began to play. I snapped at her right quick and told her she was not allowed to do that ever again. She learned.
And now she has unlearned. Some of the blame belongs on Mommy because she has become quite frisky between the sheets too. Oh not with Daddy! Gross. But she brings one of River’s toys into the bed and she plays push me pull you while River is holding it in her mouth. What happened to the days when Daddy would play with Pocket and Mommy and I would growl at the to stop. What has this River done to my family?
I should be happy that they are all playing like a family, that, while there are still tears shed in my memory, there are lots of happy thoughts too. I should be happy about all of this.
But in my bed? Where I slept? Where my children came and played with their toys?
I am going to have to sleep on this.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
I was off having wonderful dreams about a life without giant glowing squirrels when I got pulled out of my dreams and into Judge Foley’s chambers
She sat behind a big desk, wearing her robe, and looking very regal. She said it was time for me to do something important for Mommy. To learn the ways of the Monster.
She told me when she left that Mommy would miss certain things about her, but she didn’t want to teach them to me right away. If I had reminded Mommy of Foley she would be looking for more of Foley in me than me of me and Foley and I both agreed, I’m not Foley. But now, with her gone a year, it was time to be schooled.
The first class was in tongue. I have always kept my tongue in my mouth but Foley told me that I must start slipping it between my teeth and lips. I told Foley that unlike her I did not have a big tongue or a big mouth. She gave me a cold stare and told me to start practicing sticking my little tongue out of my little mouth.
Next came the walk. Foley’s back legs were slightly longer than her front legs so she walked with a very specific butt wiggle. My legs are the same size so to do the Foley walk I had to stand on my tippy claws and I kept tipping over. Plus I am a modest girl and don’t like shaking my butt. It took me many nights practice to get it down.
Then there is the spin around. Foley, when excited, always barked and spun around. I have started doing the spin around but not as often as Foley did because I get dizzy.
There are certain things she wanted me to do that I can’t. She used to bark at Mommy and Daddy throughout dinner for kibble but I find that to be rude. Also I try to do her big tail wag but since mine is cropped doing so is hard. And Foley used to nod her head to communicate with Mommy and I haven’t got that down yet.
But our plan has been successful, several times recently I have walked in the kitchen and Mommy has said Foley’s name. And it doesn’t make her cry anymore, it makes her feel good, and that makes me feel good, so thank you for teaching me your old tricks Foley, it’s been long enough, and the memory is a good one.
Do you ever remind your Mom of any of her dogs at the Bridge?
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Friday, July 18, 2014
Dear Aunt Foley: What are you doing up there? Our house got hit by lightening. We lost our power and when that came back on we had no Internet, no cable, no water. Are you responsible for his and are you willing to make reparations? Plus I hate thunderstorms and during the last one I climbed in Mommy’s shirt and peed on her lap. Anyway that’s her story. Can you stop the thunderstorms in Florida? - Tashi
Dear Tashi: First let me speak for everyone here in the afterlife in apologizing for the lightening strike at your house. I don’t have any control of the lightning. Let me try to explain our complicated weather system to you.
The River is made up of the tears of, and for, the departed, and each day it gets bigger. At the end of the River the beavers work to make sure that the River does not flood our area of the Bridge so they must dump out a certain amount of water by turning a big faucet with their teeth and that opens up a sprinkler and unfortunately, because of the way the Earth is curved, that water if often emptied out over Florida.
Because it is a River there is often a lot of soot and mud in the water and it gets stuck in the pipes. The beavers are not the most patient of angels and they don’t like getting their paws dirty so, to unclog the pipes, they bang on them with big pipes which is what causes the thunder. The banging scares the lightning bugs who throw off bolts of light at the beavers. The bolts bounce off the pipes and can go in any direction. Unfortunately one hit your house and we are very sorry but glad no one was hurt.
Occasionally when someone is super bad we are allowed to throw lightning bolts at them but lightning is very hard to work with and we often miss. But I still advise Mr. Putin not to go outside too much.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Well the humans who waste their time studying dogs have done it again: They have spent millions of dollars coming up with something completely useless that foolish human parents will flock to buy.
It is an oxytocin nasal spray that strengthens the bond between pet and parent. This spray is also known as the “love hormone” and it causes dogs to want to bond with their humans more. If you are a human, and this appeals to you, meet me in the next paragraph:
Look, buddy, if you need a drug to get your dog to be more affectionate to you, your problem may not be pharmaceutically related. You see, humans are our entire life, and if we aren’t responding to you then maybe it’s time to look at the freak in the mirror.
I guess some humans need us to be like caricatures of Vietnamese prostitutes during the war, wanting us, upon their entry into the home, to roll over on our backs, look up at them, and say “me love you long time, me so horny.” I, for one, find the entire thing repugnant.
And to all my human sisters out there, all my single ladies and those spoken for too, ask yourself these questions: Who are so needy that they have to invent a potion to make them more attractive to their dogs? Answer: Men. And honies, they are just trying this on dogs, believe me these lonely souls will be trying to figure out a way to make you snort their love juices.
The creators of the product claim that one whiff of the oxytocin will create behaviours including sniffing, licking, gentle touching with the nose or paw, playing and resting in contact with the other's body. Now does that sound like it’s made for dogs or other humans?
So beware both my pup and my human sisters. When a man tells you to sniff them, run behind the couch and hide.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
It has been a slow week here at the Bridge, a blessedly slow week. No friends making the journey to the immortal side of life. No friends in need of prayers.
I have been blogging for five years. Shortly after I began I used my Sunday blog to recognize dogs, usually those who had either passed over to the Bridge, or were in need of prayers. The first dog I wrote about who had crossed the River of LIfe was Apollo. Last week I wrote about his brother Ace, who passed over on Tuesday. At the time of the Apollo blog Ace was just beginning his peak years.
So it is a rare week when there is no sorrow or peril. Thank the Gods and the Dogs for that. But being a well acknowledged dog with a blog it left me with a problem. I had no one to write about and a rabid audience of dozens of dogs and even a larger audience of dogs up to date on their shots waiting on my blog.
Let’s celebrate some good news and some minor problems that could have been major. Like Lame Lou ee. He went on a walk this week and came home with a bloody paw. The wound was cleaned but Lou still walked with a limp. After a couple of days of waiting for it to heal his Mom took him to the vet where it was discovered that he had exposed the quick of his paw. “No big drama,” Lou said. Thank heavens for that.
Then there is my friend Molly the Highland Girl. Her Mom saw little blood spots on the floor and checked Molly all over including her unmentionables. She couldn’t find anything but did not want to take any chances so she took Molly to the vet, who looked her all over, spending more time on the unmentionables. Then she found an infected whisker. While that was easily treated two days later she was back at the vet’s with diarrhea and vomiting. The air quality in Molly’s neck of the woods is very hot and was making her sick, so Mollie needs to stay inside in the nice air conditioning until fall. Once again, no big drama, and thank heavens.
Finally there is Jakie who has had problem poos since he arrived at his forever home. Jakie’s Mom took him to the vet this week too, and while they still aren’t sure what is causing his poo problems there is nothing physically wrong with him. Again, no drama.
So here is to a week with only a slight amount of drama and healthy pups getting good reports from doctors.
May we have a lot of weeks like this in the months to come.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Dear Aunt Foley: I am positive that Mom has lost her mind...HELP!!!! She bought a 12" tall glow in the dark squirrel!!! She says it lights up the stairs for when she comes home after dark! I think it is terrifying...who in the world wants to bump into a foot tall squirrel?!!!! I hid under my blankie that Jeanne (Prince's Mommy) made me!!! Ohhhhhh boy...make it go away!!!!! Shivering Golden Boy....Enzo
Dear Shivering Golden Boy Enzo: I don’t believe it is you I should be addressing. Please bark loudly so your Mom comes over to the computer. Is she there? Thank you.
Hello Mrs.Enzo’s Mom. Usually I answer questions but I have one for you. Are you freaking crazy? Don’t you know that squirrels are the mortal enemy of dogs, and that we live every day in fear that they are going to rise up, combine their nuts, and build a giant 12” tall glow in the dark squirrel to exact their revenge?
And not only have they done it, but you put it in your yard? To light up the stairs? A Grizzly Bear with a lighter would have been a better choice. I don’t mean to get personal but I think you have been sucking in too much train diesel while giving choo-choo tours of Enzo’s Mountain. Some day you are going to come home and that giant glow in the dark squirrel is going to be dragging your house down the mountain.
Do you have access to a back hoe? Because if you think you are just bringing that voodoo back to where you got it and getting your money back forget about it. First of all whatever side of the road gypsy you bought it from is halfway back to the New Mexico desert right now to buy peyote with the money and search for Aaron Paul. And second, even if you did track her down sleeping under an abandoned RV to escape the desert sun, and gave her the squirrel back, it would be right back in front of your house when you got home because it is bad voodoo. The only thing you can do is get a backhoe, dig sixty feet down into the bowels of Enzo mountain, bury that thing under ten feet of cement and a 16 square foot surface three feet deep over the hole, and then pray to God the glow in the dark squirrel doesn’t find it’s way back to your steps.
And as for you Enzo, keep sucking the binky baby, it will be alright.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
I was snoozing on Mommy’s lap. The TV was on and, as usual I was ignoring it unless Tyrion Lannister is on. I like watching little people outsmart everyone else. But then I heard the man say soccer. When we lived at the condo kids used to leave soccer balls in the middle of the complex where Foley and I walked. Daddy would kick the ball and I would run after it, hop on top of it and roll over with it. I loved playing soccer. But then we moved here to the Village of the Pruned and you don’t want to jump on any low lying balls left here.
But I never lost my desire to for soccer and this seemed like a golden opportunity. That night I waited for everyone to fall asleep, jumped out of bed, entered the front bedroom and snuck into Foley’s Leopard Skin Vagina Kitty Condo. I went down to the library and, in an old file cabinet, I found the codes that Foley used to upload herself through the series of tubes that make the Internet.
Then I jumped back on the bed. I waited until morning to tell River my plan. She sleeps on the upper part of the bed near Mommy’s head and gets very snappish if I approached, and any snapping might tip Mommy off to my plan.
The next day when Mommy and Daddy went shopping I convinced River to use her skills picked up on the mean streets of mid-Florida to help us escape. I told her that we were going to play soccer in Brazil and win the World Cup. River asked me if she could eat kibble out of it, kibble being River’s main motivation to do everything and I said yes. We then put the codes into the computer and off we went.
First we went to our friend Mollie the Highland Girl. She has shared with us many stories about her love of soccer and I knew she would make a proper striker, whatever that is. She gladly joined us and then we wooshed to farm country. We needed some young blood on our team and the Boys, Elvis and Moo, would do the trick perfectly. I didn’t even have to ask them. As soon as they saw us they were ready for any adventure.
We needed some agile players so we got Taz and Einstein, then we picked up Graycee and Hondo. We got Hattie Mae for inspiration, Lily as our team doctor, Molly the Wally and Lou ee from England where they seem to think they invented the game, Luca from Argentina, Paco from Italy, and finally, for their wisdom and management ability, Tommy Tunes and Hobo Hudson.
It took a lot of code writing but I got us all downloaded to the streets of Brazil. River said we still didn’t have enough players for a full team but I had a plan. We went to the Dogs of Brazil shelter and asked if any dogs wanted to play. A dozen paws went up in the air.
So now we had our team comprised of males and females, Americans, Brazilians, Britons, Italians, and Griffons. We were lucky to not be placed in the Group of Death but Group E along with Switzerland, Honduras and France which was known as the Group of Ambiguous Sexual Identity.
Our first game was against France. Mollie was able to get on top of the ball and ride it all the way into the net in the first five minutes while the French stood around looking for the men they were going to play. Once France figured out that they were playing dogs our staunch defenders from the Dogs of Brazil chased and nipped them all over the field. If a human can bite another human why can’t dogs bite humans? The French retreated and we were victorious.
Most of our Brazil dogs were banned for the second game against Switzerland so we recruited more dogs over the Internet and added them even though it’s against the rules. (Thankfully all dogs look alike to humans.) Our new defenders were not as ferocious as the Dogs of Brazil and we fell behind 3-0. River added a brilliant bit of strategy. She peed on the ball. The Swiss did not want to go near a piss covered ball and we came back with six scores as their goalie kept running away from our shots.
We had qualified for the round of 16 by the time we played Uganda. The grass was very cool, and the sun strong, so we all just laid on the grass and enjoyed the day while the Ugandans scored 23 goals. But it did not matter. We were ready for the next round.
The night before our next match we had a team meeting and decided we all missed our Moms too much so I uploaded everyone back home and let Brazil advance to the Round of 8 as long as they let the Dogs of Brazil play defense for them. They agreed and we were all very happy. (Until the dogs fell asleep against the Germans, but that’s another story.)
Especially the seven other teams who knew we would kick their butts!
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Sunday, July 6, 2014
For most Americans it was a short week, but for us pups and their parents it has been a week of prayer as three of our friends, two tough old Florida dogs, and one overly hungry Illinois dog, each had operations that made us very worried. All three pups are home and on the road to a full recovery, but one pup, our friend Ace, Apollo and Shakira’s brother, not in need of an operation, or a hospital stay, at the age of 14, finds his song ending, and is scheduled to cross the River of Life to the immortal side on Tuesday.
The week began with news that sent an earthquake of worry through our tight little band. Tommy Tunes, the keeper of keys, who puts our minds at ease and is guaranteed to please, was undergoing surgery. Tommy is 17 and he needed surgery on his eyes and to remove some growths. Surgery is a risk at any age but when you are a senior dog the risks grow. We all gathered in our designated spots to pray and blessedly word came that Tommy came through surgery and, although he was sore, he still plans to amuse and comfort us for many, many more moons.
Then came news that Hobo Hudson was quietly undergoing the knife. Hobo, author, and wise businessman, kept quiet about his surgery plans, knowing such momentous news could cause upheaval in the bone market. He had some growths that needed to be removed. It was done, at an undisclosed location, to keep the puparrazi away, and he was home at the end of the day, also sore, but enjoying an intimate dinner with his wife Lily. When word leaked of Hobo’s surgery we went back to our special prayer spots and asked the heavenly angels to heal our friend, which they did. We hoped there would not be a third surgery, because heavenly angels often say no
But by the end of the week we were back in our prayer spots praying for Lacey. She ate a charcoal filter from their aquarium and it got lodged in her digestive tract and needed surgery. For the third time we gathered at our prayer spots and for a third time the angels said yes although they made us promise she wouldn’t eat anything that could kill her for at least a month.
But the angels don’t always give, sometimes they take, and Ace, brother to Shakira and Angel Apollo has made the decision to leave the mortal world behind and pass over to Rainbow Bridge. His legs have given out and his heart is failing. He has fought long and hard to stay with his Mom but he knows his heartbeats are running out and his song will be ending. When he crosses over on Tuesday there will be Apollo, and many other friends waiting to see him, while on the mortal side there will be many tears.
It will be bittersweet to see Ace again, knowing the sadness felt by those he left behind, but it will be good to see him, and to know he is only a party of one.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Dear Aunt Foley: My friend Butkus just became a Dad. Mommy says I can never become a Dad. Why is that? Brody
Dear Brody: I thank you for this very important question. Sometimes dogs ask me questions and I have to delve deep into the mysterious of the universe to find the answer but this one I can answer without a bit of research. Your Mom had your balls cut off, put in a jar and left in the dumpster behind the vet’s.
But don’t go hating on your Mom. Even though you won’t know the joy of fatherhood she did you a favor. If she did not have you snipped then once a month you would smell the female scent in the air and you would begin to bang your head against the door until you were let outside and then you would stumble down the street like a zombie looking for the dog emitting the scent.
And there are a lot of other responsibilities that Butkus has now. Although most of his pups will go to new homes he will have to pay kibble support to make sure that they get fed enough, and then there are treat gifts for birthdays and holidays. It is very likely he is going to have to get another job sitting in the sun to pay for it.
Plus male dogs are not the most discriminating species when it comes to members of the opposite sex. I have heard some male dogs have awoke with coyote women. They are not actual coyotes, they are just ugly female dogs who are snuggled up with their head on the male’s arm and the male decides it is better to gnaw off his arms then the wake her up.
So you see your Mommy did your Mom actually did you you favor. Plus you have those two human babies to raise and you don’t need any pup babies.
Remember Moms know best.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
It has been nearly a year since I left my Florida family to take over management of a Massachusetts family (no one told me about the cold. Who wouldn’t tell someone about the cold? I was less than a year old. Geez) I was replacing Judge Foley Monster who accepted a position of great importance at Rainbow Bridge. It was an honor to be replacing Judge Monster but I will repeat, as I have often done to her, her dream meetings to guide me, while appreciated, are not needed.
Now, I think it is proper, after a year of supervision, to give my staff reviews. I will share them with you, my loyal friends,
Mommy: Overall your work has been excellent. You are a wonderful snuggler. I love lying against you while I sleep at night and you give excellent lap. The food is served promptly and sometimes with surprises like chicken and pumpkin. You could be a little more reasonable when others make small errors, like when I pee on the couch, or when I run around the house like a mad dog and knock something over, or I pull something out of the trash and eat it. So you need to set a goal of working on your temper. Also you need to improve on your time management. You should be sitting more. When I follow you around the house with my nose on your heels you should sit immediately and not be doing “house work” or “paper work” or “work.” Overall I think you are doing more than a satisfactory job and look forward to your improving this upcoming year.
Daddy: The work is satisfactory but could use improvement. The walks are good and usually on time but more time letting me sniff and explore strange new smells would be appreciated. You provide adequate snuggle, if not as soft as Mommy, but sometimes I wake up and your head is resting on my buttocks which I find unsettling. You do an excellent job with my treat balls are night. Your combination of pumpkin, kibble, health bars, and cheese is first rate but when I finish them I am disappointed that you do not refill them. You playing with me, moving my stuffed toys over the floor, and holding them up high so I can jump up and get them is good, but you spend too much time playing with Pocket and not enough playing with me. I hope to see improvement in the next year
Pocket: When Foley hired me for this job she did say that my assistant would be lacking in many qualities and she was right. You seem to think she can lay on Mommy’s lap whenever she wants; she thinks she can eat kibble and treats when I am more entitled to them; she thinks the red ball is hers when it is clearly mine,; and she take attention away from me; plus her paper work is sloppy, her spelling is atrocious, her penmanship indecipherable; her math indescribable. But she is warm to sleep against, she is very sweet to me, and is fun to play with when neither of us have a headache. There is a lot of hope for, but little chance of, improvement.
Online friends and family: Better than described. Thank you for welcoming me into your computers, your lives, and your families. I feel like I have become an international spokesman for grumpy dogs. No improvements needed from you, just keep up the good work.