Monday, October 16, 2017

Monday Question

Is there a command your parents to try to stop your barking or some other unwanted behavior?  
Pocket:  My parents can't settle on a word, which is why we get away with murder.  Daddy either does "Un-huh," "Shush," or going back and forth from "good girl" to "bad girl" depending on how we are doing.  Mommy does that strange noise and that Cesar Milan does.  Nothing seems to be working  

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Angel Cooper and Chipper are our October 15, 2017 Pup of the Week


Part of being an angel is being a worrier.  It is like being a member of an exclusive club where everything is perfect, but you don’t want anyone in your family to be a member, and not in a creepy middle-aged executive hiding out at the Playboy Mansion way, but in a “if they come here they are going to be leaving all their family and their friends heartbroken” way.

We lead a terribly contradictory afterlife.  We miss our loved ones with all our hearts, but we don’t want them to join us.  Our greatest wish is our greatest fear.  

The Big Guy himself called Cooper the perfect dog, and as soon as he came here, he was determined to be the perfect angel.  He has watched over his family and siblings with an unmatched intensity.  When his beloved brother Chipper tore his ACL Cooper paced so much he could have worn out his own if our parts weren’t eternal.

At first, their mom hoped that the ACL would heal on its own.  “This is just the job for an angel,” Cooper told me.  “I am going to watch over my brother and heal that injury,”  I told him, despite our best intentions, life often had other plans, but Cooper would not believe it.  “An intensely attentive angel can achieve anything.”

If only it were so. 

Chipper’s ACL injury was not healing.  “Foley,” Cooper cried, “My brother’s leg isn’t any better.  My mother is making an appointment for surgery.  What did I do wrong?”

I assured my friend he did everything right, but sometimes, when you do, things still go very wrong.  But that did nothing to ease his worry.  He asked me how he could be assured that his brother come through surgery safely.  “Pray to the Big Guy,” I said.  “And visit your brother while he is in surgery to make sure he is not scared.”

“And that will make everything fine?”  he asked.  

“Your brother should be fine,” I assured him.

“But we have seen pups come here who were in less perilous situations,” the worried Copper said.  

I put my paw on his shoulder.  “Rarely,” I said.  “Very, very rarely.  That is why we are vigilant in prayer.  Because every single day dogs and people arrive here, who shouldn’t.  The only defenses we have are love and prayer, but they are very strong defenses.”

Blessedly, on the day of Chipper’s surgery a study surgeon’s hands, a mother’s love, a perfect angel brother's attention, and Chipper’s will combined for a successful surgery, and Chipper is now with his mom recovering.

While his mom is nursing Chipper if she sees a shadow out of the corner of her eye, or hears a faint fluttering, she should know it is her angel,  intently watching over his brother.


Friday, October 13, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: For our Hero Michele Kenny

Being sick is a terrible thing.  I was not sick long during my life but when I became ill it was brutish and short.  Cancer hit me hard and swept me from the mortal world without a fight. I have had many friends who have battled this insidious illness, but there is one person who has fought like a superhero.
Michelle Kenney is the owner of four beautiful little dogs who she has provided a perfectly loving home for.  She is a dear friend who has delighted my mom, as well as hundreds of other women, with her spirit and humor.  She is also a superhero who has fought the arch-villain known as cancer harder and longer than anyone I know.
The cancer has come and gone so many time I have lost count.  We have rejoiced when it went it remission and cried when it inevitably returned.  We were overjoyed at her wedding, her trips to the beach house, the renewal of her vows, and commiserated as the treatments ravaged her body.
No matter how many times she was knocked down, she has arisen stronger than ever.  It was like watching your favorite boxer in the ring getting hit over and over the slammed onto the mat, and you just wanted her to stay down, but she kept rising over and over until all you could do was marvel at her perseverance.  
During this fight, she has taught so many lessons to her loving friends.  When her health was in a downward spiral, she has met it with determination, humor and an indomitable spirit.  Her friends were living their own lives, encountering the dozens of small aggravations that happen daily, and being angered by them.  But inside of them is Michelle, who battled life’s biggest opponent, and never let it get her down.  How could a flat tire, or a broken computer, or a rainy day, compare to that?  She has put a light in every single one of her friends:  A light that signals to calm down do not get upset, someone is going through worse, and dealing with it better.  That light will never be extinguished.
Sometimes our parents have trouble saying things, but I have always been very verbose, so I will speak for them.  To Michelle:  Thank you for the love, the strength, the spirit, the light, the humor, for showing us how to be brave, for showing us how to fight, for reminding us what is important, for, through your actions, teaching us never to give up.  Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with us.  Thank you for being Michelle Kenney.  The world is a better place because of you.
We know you have a hard fight in front of you, but we are all behind you, we believe in you, and if there is a soul on this Earth who can win this fight, it is you.
You are a superhero, a rock star, and our hero.  You have an army of prayers behind you.
Now kick some cancer ass.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Pocket Tries to Claim the Vomit

As I get older more things make me nervous.  Noises coming from the TV, screeches, beeps, cries, whistles, whacks and whispers all cause me to sit up and tremble.  Once again my parents set out to combat my anxiety which always makes me nervous.
They dug out my Thunder Shirt.  I hate that thing.  When I see it, I know something terrible is about to happen, and I shake.  But they added something new to the Thunder Shirt torture.  They bought a spray that was supposed to soothe my nerves.  The first time they sprayed it on me I got myself into more positions than the Kama Sutra trying to get the horrible smell off of me.
Once I was done everything in the house, but me smelled like lavender.  This did not make Mommy happy, so Daddy decided to spray the Thunder Shirt before strapping it on me.  They termed this a success after Mommy made a noisy supper and I sat next to Daddy slightly trembling instead of running around the house trying to hide under everything. At our house, if no one is hiding under the furniture is it considered a successful day.
But I was still unhappy about the lingering stench of lavender.  Then I got hit with a terrific bolt of luck.  In the middle of the night, in the big bed, River vomited.
I jumped out of bed waking Daddy.  He saw the vomit and cleaned it up.  I was on the floor shaking like a cricket in a lizard factory.  Daddy picked me up, told me it was not my fault that I vomited, and wondered if it was the lavender smell that made me sick.  I was so close to never getting that horrible scent stuck in my nostrils again.
Then something terrible happened.  River vomited again!  And suddenly it wasn’t about me anymore.  She was getting all the attention.
Her tummy settled the next day, and I thought the attention would be back on me but the next night my sister puked twice in bed again.  Now she was on the Terrifying Watch List.  You earn a spot on the list when you are sick, and your terrified parents watch everything that you do.  With all their attention on River, no one sprayed me. Not even with water, never mind lavender.
The next night I made sure the attention was on me.  I vomited a half dozen times while River peacefully slept.  That morning I had diarrhea.  I was back on top of the Terrifying Watch List.  It wasn’t until near bedtime when I finally ate, and then the next morning, when no one puked in bed, that we were both removed from the List and our house returned to normal.
“I am glad Pocket is feeling better,” Mommy said.
“So am I,” Daddy said.  “And we haven’t sprayed her with lavender in days, so we know that didn’t make her sick.”
I tell you I can’t catch a break.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Beat this Caption

Hey!  I don't tell you how to scratch your butt you don't tell me how to scratch mine!

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Prince and Rosy are our October 8, 2017 Pups of the Week

When Cappy arrived at Rainbow Bridge, I explained how every part a dog loses, like hearing or vision, reaches the Bridge, and we keep it safe until the day comes when the rest of the dog arrives, and everything becomes whole again.  We got a short black leg this week with no name attached.  I got on the computer and searched my friends, and I learned that leg belonged to my friend Prince.
Poor Prince had contracted cancer and had to lose his leg to keep cancer from spreading and taking his life.  Prince was more than happy make this sacrifice.  Truthfully, we dogs would exist as just a head on top of a beating heart if that meant more time with mom.
Sadly, this sacrifice came with post-surgical pain.  Little Prince lost his front leg and shoulder during surgery.  He did a lot of crying the first few days.  Prince’s mom got his medication increased, but every time she lifted him to help him go potty she hit a sore spot.  Her heart broke for her poor little gentleman.
Three days later Prince had fought through the pain and was standing on his three legs.  The pain had lessened a great deal, and Prince was more relaxed.  A few days later he was walking around the house without pain.  He is going to need prayers as he learns to be a tri-paw, but we are sure this Prince of a Dog will be triumphant.
The second pup we recognize this week came to her new home with the help of a lot of angels.  Rosy, an adorable Lhasa Apso, is now a member of Blogville’s Da Db Boyz joining Arty and Jakey.  
Their parents decided on a Lhasa pup but were disappointed to see how few breeders there were in their area.  Having searched the entire Pacific Northwest the parents were about to give up their search until summer when they extended their search into Utah, Nevada, and Idaho.  The Idaho Pug Ranch’s parents joined in their search, and the Boyz’s angel siblings Dory and Bilbo joined the Pug Ranch’s Angels Bailey and Greta to find the right pup.  
Bailey and Greta found a Lhasa litter in Idaho.   They told Dory and Bilbo, who went to interview the pups to find the right one, and the Pug’s Mom, who emailed Dory’s mom to inform her about the litter.   The Boyz parents traveled to Utah to meet Rosy, her pup, and human parents, and Rosy, after a night at a hotel, arrived home.
Now Rosy has a new forever home, Arty and Jakey have a little sister, their parents will have their hearts rebuilt with the help of this adorable little girl, all thanks to online friends and determined angels.
May Rosy and Prince have lots of days, love, and memories with their pack and parents.

Friday, October 6, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Chloe the Miracle Mountain Dog


This is the story of a 14-year-old-lab-pittie mix named Chloe who, on a hot August day decided to hike up a 14 er Mount Bross, ran into a speck of trouble, and came down six weeks later
Chloe was a mountain dog, and she was experienced in finding her way home.  But she also had gotten older, and her body did not respond the way it used to.  
On this beautiful summer day, Chloe kept going up and up.  She felt young again.  She knew she should turn around but the sun was warm, the scents were heavenly, and time slipped away.  She saw a large rock and knew if she could get on it she could see everywhere.  It took a mighty leap, but Chloe made it.
Here is something about dogs that humans have trouble understanding.  We have tremendous confidence going up, but not so much going done.  Chloe was stranded on a rock in the middle of Nowhere Colorado.
Chloe nervously padded to the side of the rock but her instinct told her if she jumped she would land on the steep slope, her paws would not gain traction, and she would fall into the trees and rocks.  An impulsive dog may get hurt by running in the street or at a wild animal but a pensive dog studies the situation and understands that sometimes it is better to wait even if it is over night.  Or night after night after night.
Her Dad, Larry Osborne expected Chloe to come back from her hike, but one night turned to two, and then a week.  Chloe was an older dog,  there were many wild animals on the mountain, and her dad slowly began to lose hope.
Chloe, through hot days, cold nights, and the rain stayed alive on top of that rock.  She won’t tell me how.  She just believed someone would find her, and day after day she never lost hope as she survived on rainwater and miracles.
Larry owned a Saloon, and he made sure that every one of the town’s 300 people was on the lookout for Chloe but no one saw her.  In late September Larry told his son that Chloe would not be coming home, and the family had a memorial service for her.
Meanwhile, Chloe stayed on the rocks using all she had left.  Her bark.  
Mountain hikers had reported while they were on Mount Bross they heard a dog barking but no one could find the source of the barking.  Trinity Smith and her boyfriend Sean Nichols, who were visiting the area after moving two years earlier, decided to conduct a search.
They searched the mountain all day with no findings but before nightfall, Trinity heard a slight whimpering.  She posted her discovery on Facebook and a Breckenridge resident Mark Whiteside joined her on the mountain.  Unfortunately they did not hear anything the rest of the evening.
A desperate Chloe knew there were humans near, but she was so tired, and thirsty.  Working up a single whimper used all of her energy.  She decided to keep quiet and hope the came nearer.  
Smith and Nichols returned the next day searched for four hours with no success.   The weather turned cold, and clouds covered the sun.  They kept going, calling out for a response.  It started to snow.   They knew if the sound were from a dog he would not survive the storm.  Nichols, exhausted and losing faith, sat down and cried.  
Chloe knew she would not survive the night.  She worked up all the energy she had, and she let out one loud bark.  Nichols heard it and shimmied up the scree field towards the noise.  Chloe found the residual spark to produce more barks.  Nichols kept heading towards the sounds.  Chloe poked her head up, and Nichols saw her stuck on the rock.
Nichols reached the rock and grabbed Chloe.  He held her to his chest, and he slid down the steep chute.  While they were siding Chloe’s collar was ripped off.  
They got Chloe off the mountain and drove to the Al-Mart where Nichols worked.  They were planning to rush Chloe to the vet when one of Nichols’ coworkers said she knew who Chloe belonged to.
The woman found Larry Osborne who was stunned to see Chloe standing next to Nichols.  He broke down when he saw his wonderful friend he was sure had perished six weeks before.   
Chloe was thrilled to see her Dad.  He took her to the vet.  Chloe was very dehydrated and malnourished, her nose had turned white, her coat pale and she suffered a minor injury down the mountain, but otherwise she was fine.  She had lost two-thirds of her body weight but had gained ten pounds back the first weekend living every dog’s dream of being able to eat however much she wanted.

The entire town turned out to celebrate Chloe’s return.  Her Dad said he did not know how she managed to survive.

The truth is that Chloe refused to go to the Bridge and never gave up the belief that she would be found.

That is an essential lesson for dogs and humans.  A lot can be accomplished if you never give up hope.




Thursday, October 5, 2017

The Scarett Y by River Song



My Mommy does an incredible job taking care of us.  She inspects every inch of our bodies.  So it was not surprising that she was mad at herself when the groomer told her that I had another ear infection.  Since I got my last infection 12 months ago, Mommy checks my ears after every bath, which happen too frequently.  Two weeks before the grooming she checked and sniffed, and my ears were fine.

When Mommy went to the groomers, she expected to get glowing reports about her own grooming skills.  Instead, the woman handed me over the counter to Mommy, wrinkled her nose in distaste and said “yeast.”

My mother could not believe it was true.  “You must be mistaken; I take such care of her ears.”  The groomer grabbed my ear, pulled it back, and with her other hand she took Mommy’s head, shoved it down to my ear and told her to sniff.  

The woman let go of Mommy’s head.  She looked at the groomer, softly admitted “yeast” and slunk out the door.

The next morning Mommy asked my Dad to call the vet. She did not want to be shamed by having a wear on her clothing a giant Y  for yeast on her dress and be shunned in public.  The last time I had an infection our old vet gave me a thorough examination and charged $150.00.  Who knew what this vet would charge for a second offense?

The vet tech told Daddy that she would check my records.  She called back and told him that he could come in and pick up medicine for me.  Since I had a full examination two months earlier another one was not needed.  Mommy and I both sighed in relief.

When Daddy picked up the medicine, the vet tech told him that she thought it was a seasonal allergy and was not anyone’s fault.  That made Mommy feel better.  As hard as Mom’s try they cannot stop an allergy.

So for the next two weeks, I get drops which I don’t like, and ear rubs, which I like a lot.  I have not been in pain, so this entire incident has been more something I have witnessed then taken a part of.   

I just want the yeast out of my ears to make my Mom happy and to make sure she never has to wear a big Y.

Monday, October 2, 2017

Mondy Question

I don't want to embarrass anyone but are there any poop eaters here?
Pocket:  Oh yes, I have been a poop eater my entire life  I am a poop-a-holic.  My parents have to be fast on the pickup.
River Song:  No, I am a lady, and I can't beat Pocket to the poop.  

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Cappy is our October 1, 2017 Pup of the Week


This week our friend Mama Jackie Ross had her heart light go out when her senior rescue dog Cappy gave up her long fight to stay with her mom despite Cappy's slowly fading body and arrived here at Rainbow Bridge accompanied by huge clouds filled with her mom’s, and our parents’ tears, and many angel hugs from her friends who came here before her.
Some dogs arrive at Rainbow Bridge, and other pups like Cappy arrive a little at a time.  First, her vision appeared, and we put it in the house where she would be living.  After that, her hearing came, and we put it in the same place.  A short time later we got the muscles that made her back legs move.  Little by little more parts arrived until Cappy passed over, was reunited with the body parts she had lost and was whole and young again.
Before that day came Cappy, her mom, and Dr. Steve tried very hard to keep Cappy on the mortal side.  Cappy got a special diet, which she gratefully ate.  She had control of her bodily functions.  But time was against her. Her back legs were failing her sight and hearing were gone, and each day the burden of life became a little harder to carry.
The most difficult thing for her mom was knowing that there was nothing she could do.  But she still found it in her heart to do the most important things.  She kept Cappy comfortable, pampered her, left work early to spend more time with her, and let her know every last second of her mortal life that she was loved.
The biggest change in the dog world since I was born is the ability of angels to prepare dogs for what will happen when they become immortal.  Cappy arrived knowing all the steps she needed to become an angel and quickly get to her duties watching over her mom, visiting her in her dreams, even if her mom won't remember it, borrowing the body of a flying creature to visit her mom in another form, and being a ghost, that vaguely seen thing in the corner of her mom’s eyes, or that unexplained noise in the middle of the night.
Mama Jackie may not be able to hear Cappy’s heart still softly beating in their home, but the connections between their heart will never be severed.  
All of us turn to dust someday, but the love lasts forever.

Friday, September 29, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: A Prayer for Puerto Rico


Citizens of the United States have been devastated by three hurricanes this summer, Harvey, Irma, and Maria.  Two of these storms caused Americans react with solidarity, money, and prayers.  The third, Maria, has been termed a near miss to the mainland.
But there is still Puerto Rico, the fifty-first stepchild in a fifty child family.  The people of Puerto Rico are citizens of the United States just at the colonists in North America were citizens of Great Britain before the Revolutionary War.  Puerto Rico is in no position to fight the States for independence, but Americans need to remember that, despite not having the right to vote or representation in Congress, they are part of us.
My parents have many friends who have family on the island.   Scores of those family members have lost their houses, have no electricity, food or water, and witnessing a climbing death level.  They are living in the worst conditions any American citizens have endured in decades.
Not only do our parents have friends from Puerto Rico but so do we.  Our besties Max and Baron were both rescued from the streets of Puerto Rico.  Few stray dogs survived the flooding.  If it weren't for Max and Baron’s wonderful rescue parents, they would not be with us today.
The citizens of Puerto Rico are just like people living in the States.  They work hard, want what is best for the family, love and will not leave, their pets.
That devotion nearly cost Sandra Harasimowicz and her husband Gary Rosario their lives.  They miscalculated Maria’s ferocity and tried to ride out the storm with their eight cats and seven dogs.  The couple did send their two children to higher ground but would not abandon their pets
The couple lived near a river that crested its bank and water slammed into their abode.  It quickly filled with water  They put the cats on top of the cabinets and then struggled to carry their dogs to the roof where they clung to solar panels.  Several times one of the frightened dogs jumped into the water and Gary swam out to save them.  When the storm passed the water receded to below their knees, they went back to their mud-filled homes.
Sandra and Gary tried to salvage what they could from their home.  At night they put all their dogs in a top bunk and snuggled together.  But the water rose again, and they had to break into a neighbor’s house and spend the night in their rooftop annex.
Sandra and Gary will not be rebuilding.  After twelve years, and two hellish nights they have decided to move.  As a neighbor said, “Puerto Rico is destroyed.”
It has been a year with many disasters, and good people have donated more money than they can afford to help hurricane victims.
But if you have any spare change you can help people in need by donating here
In the words of Lin Manuel Miranda:
“Your citizens are suffering. Stop the bleeding, stop the loss
Help Puerto Rico. It's just a hundred miles across”

Thursday, September 28, 2017

From the Desk of Pocket Dog: Precious New Art Work From Enzo's Mom

Humans don’t like plain walls.  Blank spaces bother them for some reason.  They go to galleries and buy expensive artwork to cover their empty walls.
My parents have been very fortunate.  They have framed paintings, photos, and pictures everywhere, but seldom have they paid for them.  Their walls are supported by our friends and family.
Daddy's Mom did two paintings in their living room.  He found them in her cellar shortly after she passed away.  She had them wrapped in garbage bags.  Like all artists, she found unseen imperfections in her work that caused her to discard the paintings, but the creator can only see those flaws, and to us the works are perfect.
Along two other walls are pictures of her seldom seen grandchildren and, above the television, which all stare at dutifully, are pictures of we three dogs, done by Freddy’s dad Steve and Leo’s mom Eileen.  
The kitchen is also the Connie Gross Art Gallery.  There are nine paintings and drawings along hallway and kitchen wall one by Zoe Boe’s mom.  They are all of Foley and I and chronicle our lives together.  Each one is cherished.
This week we received two new beautiful pieces of artwork from Enzo’s Mom Kathy.  I stole my Mom’s ringing camera and took two pictures of her very kind gift.
My parents love the sea.  They have come from generations of people who have stood on the docks and watched people sail off to risk their lives for a living then gratefully eat what they caught while complaining they got salt water on their good shoes.  One of the paintings Nana did is a seascape, so Enzo’s Mom’s picture fit perfectly at our house.
Enzo and his mom are a fantastic team.  They are a real renaissance couple having mastered writing, art, and humor.  They bring joy to our friends every day.  And now we have these drawings, which are true glimpses into the artist’s soul to brighten our lives each day.  There is no greater gift than art.  It is the gift of imagination more precious than a rare stone.
Aunt Kathy insisted we recognize Willie’s mom Sandy Von Nostrand, who has encouraged her artwork and patiently helped Aunt Kathy find the brilliant artist inside of her.  But we think Aunt Sandy would agree the credit all goes to Enzo’s fantastic mom.
Enzo lives with his mom on her mountain, and it is unlikely that my parents, who don’t travel further west than Worcester, will ever know the joy of meeting her, but now that Miss Kathy has treated them with this part of her heart they can experience meeting a part of her every time they look at it.
Thank you so much, Enzo and his mom.
You have made my mom very happy and, like the other artists whose works are on our walls, we owe her a great debt that we will spend the rest of our days trying to repay.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Monday, September 25, 2017

Monday Question

Do you spin around before you lie down to sleep?
Do you kick you back legs after you poop or pee?
Do you kick your leg when someone scratches your belly?
Pocket: I spin around a few time very settling down. I don't kick my back legs after doing my business or kick my leg.
River Song: I spin, shake, spin again, and fuss for five minutes before sitting down. Occasionally I will kick my back legs after doing my business. I don't kick my leg.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Abigail is our September 24, 2017 Pup of the Week

She had no name, no home, and no chance.  Her right ear had been ripped off.  The skin was hanging off her face.  She was alone walking down a street in Southern Florida, looking for a place to lie down.
Someone found her, near death, and brought her to Miami’s busy city shelter, where she needed a miracle to keep her from joining us angels.
Her miracle arrived with the name Victoria Fraizer who saw the poor pup’s picture on Facebook and fearing she would euthanized contacted them.  She named the baby Abigail and brought her to Pets First Wellness Center where her veterinarian, Thomas Jackson, determined that Abigail had been involved in dogfighting.
The wrap covering Abigail’s wounds resembled a bonnet, so Victoria bought several headbands for her.  The headbands were placed over the bandages.  Abigail, knowing her life depended on it, happily posed for pictures, which were uploaded by Victoria and a viral sensation was born.  
When Abigail was ready to leave the hospital, Victoria brought her home and sought the perfect parents for her.  She found them, Megan Steinke and her husband Jason who had already rescued another pittie, Tala.  Abigail’s life of pain, torture, and fear were over.  She was finally home.
The Steinke’s continued Abigail’s prominent online presence.   She has her own Facebook Page  (WARNING:  GRAPHIC IMAGES) and  Instagram page which has been used to increase awareness in pitbull rescues, overall adoptions, and second-chance dogs.  Right now Abigail and Tara are raising money for the children affected by the hurricanes, just one of their many causes.
Victoria stayed part of Abigail’s life, and she entered Abigail in the hero dog contest.  Each candidate raised money for a charity.  Abigail’s charity is Dogs on Deployment an organization that finds homes for dogs whose parents have been deployed overseas.
On September 16, in a ceremony that will be broadcast on the Hallmark Ceremony on October 26, Abigail was named dog hero of the year.  There were many celebrities at the gala but, besides Abigail, the real people to be celebrated were on stage too, Victoria, Dr. Jackson, and the Steinkes.
Abigail went from unloved, abused, homeless dog, to celebrity, hero, and champion of underprivileged dogs.
Everyone can learn lessons from Abigail.  Mine is that no matter how low you get never give up.  Like Abigail, your miracle might be right around the corner.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Sailing the High Seas with Jazzmiin



Tuesday was National Pirate Day.  There is nothing I enjoy more than taking to the high seas as a pirate.  I got my cocky hat out, put on my eye patch, strapped on my sword, gave Jazzmin some booty to be my first mate, and we boarded the SS Foley and took to the high seas.

I climbed the mast, and I pointed us towards the sun.  Jazzmin, a relatively new angel, was nervous about having an adventure but I told her it was Pirate day, what could go wrong?

Except for a larger pirate ship with real pirates.  They rammed into us and boarded our vessel.  I got off the mast and ran behind Jazzmin.  “What are you doing?” Jazzmin asked.

“You are bigger than me, and I am your captain, so you must protect me.”

“Un-uh sister,” Jazzmin said.  “This was your dumb idea.”

She pushed me forward.  There was a big, smelly, peg-legged pirate in front of me.  “What are you doing on the high seas little dog?” he asked.

“It is National Pirate Day!” I told him.  “My friend Jazzmin and I came out here to have an adventure.”

“So you are pretend pirates?” he asked holding his sword near me.  I nodded and trembled.  “Well that is so annoying,” the pirate said  “I spend my whole life raping and pillaging, and I get no respect.  Nobody dresses up, or names sports teams after Vikings!”  I told him that they did.  “Then why don’t you go dressing like a Viking?” he asked.

“I don’t like the pointy horns,” I answered.

“And there are no ships,” Jazzmn helpfully pointed out.

“Of course there are ships,” the pirate insisted.  

“How do you think they got to bloody North America.”

“We don’t believe in that,” Jazzmin said.

“Yes, the Italians are very protective of Columbus Day,” I added.

The pirate sat down.  “We used to be scary; we used to be feared.  Now we are nothing but cosplay characters.  I blame Johnny Depp.”

“That Captain Hook didn’t do much for you either,” Jazzmin added.

“Yes,” I agreed, “whenever I dream about pirates now it is usually Christopher Walken singing.”

“Bah, what a nightmare,” the pirate said.  “Look, you two seem like two nice little dogs, we will let you go, but don’t come out here as pirates again, and make sure you tell all your friend how frightening we were.”

Jazzmin and I kissed the pirate to thank him and waited until he sailed away before we spit his skanky beard hair from our mouths.   When we docked, I was checking my Angel-Phone to see when our next adventure day would be but Jazzmin assured me she would be doing her hair that day.

As I walked home, I looked back and saw a small pirate sail ship on the seas.

I know he wants me to say they were ferocious but I found them darn cute.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

River Song: Common Night Walker


Now that summer is ending my sister, and I have gone back to being common nightwalkers.   Our exercise time is after supper.  With the cooler weather approaching Mother Nature has to save on energy to pay the heating bill, so it gets dark earlier.  

My parents enjoy walking us in the dark.  We don’t have any interruptions.  If it is sunlight, there are white walkers slowly roaming the site in packs.  They get Pocket, and I worked up by moving at a slow, steady pace and not paying attention to us.  Nothing causes unrest for my sister, and I like being ignored.  We start barking to get their attention but most of the time the deaf bastards just keep walking.

Occasionally a white walker, usually a woman, will pay attention to us, but for some reason, we both get hit with a case of the stupids.  We bark, run to them, backup, bang heads, stagger around, nip at one another, and eventually chase them off with nothing but a mental note in their head to donate to the United Lap Dog College Fund.

Last week, when we were on our last walk of the evening, close to midnight, just a quick jaunt down the street so I can sniff and Pocket can take her late night poop, we came to a storm drain.  My sister and I looked down the opening while Daddy, who was walking us solo, pulled on our leashes trying to dislodge us from our pursuit when we both began to bark angrily into the drain and pull on our leash.

All the white walkers go to bed at 8:00 to make sure they see the sunrise and were promised another day, so Daddy hates when we bark late at night, but our attention to the storm drain particularly bothered him as he wondered what had our attention, and then he yelled “Pennywise!” pulled us away from the drain and began dragging us back to the house, leaving a trail of late night Pocket poop in the middle of the road.  He got us inside, double locked the door, and shut out the lights.

What did we see down the drain?  We will never say.

But if you ever want to scare the poop out of your parents, and you walk at night, bark down a storm drain.

Man does that freak them out.




Monday, September 18, 2017

Monday Question

What is your stance on fetch? Do you play or decline?
Pocket: I love to play fetch with my red ball. I chase it, and I usually bring it back, but sometimes I just stand over it and bark until Daddy fetches it and throws it again.
River Song: I chase but I don't bring it back. I just play with it where it landed

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Rocket is our September 17 2017 Pup of the Week

Harvey has been a time for hero rescuers, and a few of the rescuers who saved people had been saved themselves,  not by Joel Osteen, but by people willing to get their hands and paws dirty.  
This is the story of a hero dog, with black and white coloring and cute freckles on his snout,  named Rocket.  He is a border collie mix who got extra doses of border collie energy.  That power betrayed him, and the dog who loved to run and play found himself in a cage at a Sacramento shelter with his name on a kill list and his ticket to the Bridge punched.
Luckily someone recognized that Rocket’s obsessive behavior could make him an excellent search and rescue dog.  
Rocket was removed from death row and trained in search and rescue by the Search Dog Foundation based in Southern California who looks for dogs in kill shelters to train for rescue operations.  He happily showed off all he had learned when he was tested to become a member of the team.  He promptly failed.
But Rocket must have had his own angels looking after him because a volunteer still believed in Rocket and gave him special lessons.  Given another second chance Rocket passed the test and joined the team.  
Rocket was given a human partner, firefighter Mike Stornetta from Windsor, California.  Rocket got his first taste at saving people when there was a plane crash in Northern California in 2016, two years after he joined the squad.  He proved himself to be a valuable member of the team.  
Denise Sander, the communication officer for the Search Dog Foundation says to dogs like Rocket it isn’t work, but a big game of find the human, and Rocket excels at it.  
That is why he along with 11 other rescued dogs, have been in Texas working to save people affected by Hurricane Harvey.  Two of them were Jester, who was, as a puppy surrendered because he regularly jumped the fence, and is now a FEMA-certified search dog, and Java, a plott hound mix.
Now these dogs, rescued from death row, are saving humans from death.
We have all, in a way, been rescued from an uncertain existence by our families, and we have all, in our way, rescued them.
But some of us have much more dramatic stories.