Monday, June 18, 2018

Monday Question

With summer here we want to know how you feel about fireworks and thunder?

Pocket:  I hate them.  I go to Daddy and climb up on his head because that is where I think I am safest.  He used to put me down but now he has learned not to turn his head too quickly.


River Song:  If it doesn't cause Mommy to leave the house or change the amount of food I get I don't care.

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Presley and Bowie, with Daisy and Layla, are our June 17, 2018 Pups of the Week

I have to admit, when  Presley passed two weeks ago I was distraught.  I knew how much his mom loved him, and I could feel her pain.  I reported that Presley when he arrived at the Bridge, said: “let’s finish this.”  I thought he meant the final steps to the immortal life, but it was something else entirely.

Presley, from his first day as an angel knew he had to find another dog for his mom and brother Jovi.  Presley took a crash course on how to visit dogs in their dreams and by the second day he was interviewing pups for the critical position of sleeping on his couch and filling his house with love.

Presley found the perfect dog, but he had to accomplish a task that angels who have spent dozens of years at the Bridge find difficult.  He had to go into Jovi’s dreams, take him, and bring him into Bowie’s dreams. It was a dream threeway, and it went flawlessly.

Jovi and Bowie hit it off right away.  Presley played with them as he passed the torch from himself to Bowie.  Then Presley topped all the angels by bringing Jovi and Bowie with him into his mom’s dreams so she would know that Bowie was the right dog for her and Jovi was happy to have Bowie for a little brother.

Now Bowie is home with his brother Jovi, another music legend rocking the walls of the Lewis’ house.  Presley was watching them play with a sweet smile on his face. He then turned away and laid down in the sun to take his first well deserved immortal nap.

While all our attention was on Angel Presley recent Rainbow Bridge Angel Daisy was working on finding a replacement for herself at her dad’s farm.  She interviewed lots of dogs who were on Petfinder because she knew that is where her dad would look.

Daisy found a beautiful German Shepard mix named Layla.  She got into her brother Kane’s dreams and told him she had located his new pack mate.  She was willing to try a three-way but Kane, being an outside dog, told Daisy he trusted her judgment, and if he was not compatible with the Layla, Kane had the whole farm to play. Daisy assured her beloved brother that would not be necessary. They would get swimmingly. Everyone did with Kane.
She popped into her Dad’s dreams and told him where to look.  In the morning his Dad found Layla on the Internet. As soon as they met Daisy’s dad knew this German Shepherd mix was the pup for him.  He will be picking Layla up on Monday. The perfect Father’s Day gift for a dad with a broken heart.

When her job was done, Daisy took a long rest in the sun too.  

After endless weeks or writing about at least one dog a week who arrived at the Bridge it has been a joy to write about two who have found their forever homes and will fill them with love.  


And remember each year, just before Father’s Day, will be two Gocha Days for a pair of exceptional dogs.

Friday, June 15, 2018

Foley and Friends go on a Wild West Adventure to Steal some Kibble


I was sittin’ outside my cottage in the hot sun watching as it moved across the sky.  It burned my fur but felt good. I smelled a familiar scent and looked up to see Outlaw Apollo, the oldest Angel in this part of the Bridge sitting on top of his horse.  He asked me if I wanted to get some easy kibble and I told him I sure did.

We got on our horses and rode to the Board of Big Guys’ railroad office.  I had a tougher time controlling my ride since I had to sit on its head. When we arrived at the office, we were ambushed by Chelsea the Small, who I had confided in during our Yorkie meeting the day before.  I never thought my friend would betray me, but she had and absconded with the kibble.

We needed a posse to go after Chelsea the Kid and get back the kibble for the Big Guy Board,  then steal it from them for ourselves. We recruited Bisket, a great scout, and Aran, the fastest paw in the west.  We slipped south of the border where we met Cassie, an expert on the hills where we knew Chelsea had fled.

We made camp under the stars that night, eating beans, tooting, and making sure we didn’t poop near where we slept.  We didn’t know we were in the area ruled by General Reyah, the best horse dog in the land until Reyah and her group entered our camp that morning.  Aran recognized that General Reyah had a squirrel that was Aran’s sworn enemy in his saddle. Aran barked at it and scared it off raising General Reyah’s ire.  Apollo defused the situation. General Reyah was also after Chelsea’s kibble and now, to pay for the cost of the squirrel, we had to steal the kibble, from Chelsea, and then the Big Guys,  and then General Reyah. I was ready to head for the hills, but Apollo told me I had to be cool. He had everything under control.

We caught up to Chelsea and her gang, including, Sophie Rae and Sage.  We loaded our guns with tennis balls and began firing at them. The three dogs ran off after the balls, and we headed to the kibble.  But Chelsea had a contingency plan, and she had left her cook, Bailey, frying some bacon. No dog can resist bacon. We chowed it down unaware that Bailey had covered it with rescue remedy. We fell asleep and Chelsea, Sophie-Rae, and Sage returned with the balls in their mouths, realized they had been fooled, picked up Bailey and left us.

Apollo awoke us, and we were back on our horses with Cassie, Biskit, and Aran firing tennis balls at Chelsea’s crew.  We have almost caught up to them at the Bridge. Chelsea leads her crew across it and then blew the structure leaving us on the wrong side.

Cassie saw something on the ground.  It was a collar. She sniffed it and got a foul look on her face.  The collar belongs to Reyah. She had been working with Chelsea all along.  An angry and impulsive Aran took off after Reyah. Apollo instructed Biskit to follow her.  Aran ran right into a meeting between Chelsea’s gang and Reyah’s. Biskit was soon captured too.  Reyah’s gang tortured Aran by giving her a lot of water and then locking her in her mother’s house where she couldn’t pee.  Aran had her legs crossed. Biskit was released with a message for us.

We were to leave the territory and never come back.  But that didn’t sit well with Outlaw Apollo, and I was determined to rescue Aran.  Bisket lead us back to their camp where Chelsea and Reyah were counting the kibble.  We went in tennis balls flying, frisbee throwing, kong filled peanut butter tossing attack on our enemies.  They could not resist the treats and ran off leaving the kibble unguarded. We had just finished filling our saddle bags with kibble when Chelsea returned and said we could give the kibble back to them or watch Aran, who had been desperately trying to signal us she was locked inside and needed to pee, do the biggest doggy sin, dribble indoors.  Aran would never live it down.

By this time Reyah and the rest of her gang had returned.  There was some snarling going on, and I thought there could be a real dogfight.  As a judge, I needed to do something. “Why don’t we all just eat the kibble, enjoy it, and go home?” I asked.  Apollo, Chelsea, and Reyah thought about it and agreed, and then we cut the kibble bags open to great cheering.

I got the house key from Reyah and set Aran free. She took a five-minute pee.  Then we ate, played with the tennis balls, and the frisbees, drank lots of water and had a grand time until it was all gone.  Just then one of the Big Guy’s Wolves rode up and asked us if we knew what happened to the kibble. I said we had been on the trail of some coyotes who stole it.  I could tell he didn't believe us, but he had no proof. I know the Big Guys are supposed to be all knowing and all seeing but they miss a lot. The Big Guy’s Wolf told us to get back where we belonged, and we all rode into the sunset.


I looked back.  The Big Guy Wolf picked up a lone kibble and stared at us.  I knew what they meant. If this blog makes enough money, it’s sequel time!

Thursday, June 14, 2018

We Have Cats!


Last week Mommy went to  the dentist, so we got left home with our Dad, which usually makes us very nervous, because he is our play parent, not our feeding parent, and the possibility that we would waste away while he endlessly threw a ball for us after Mommy didn’t come home was concerning.

Daddy opened the front door and let us sit on the porch so we could look out the door for Mom.  We bark at everyone we see because that person could be mommy in disguise. We were sure Mommy was home when an older woman, with white hair, carrying her mail, walked up to our steps. She must have been gone a long time because she had aged 20 years.

The woman never made it to the door.  Our barks warned Daddy that aged Mommy was home.  Daddy needed to unlock and open the porch door but had to put us inside first, so we didn’t attack aged Mommy.  Of course, as soon as I was touched, I attacked Pocket, because that is how I roll. Aged Mommy rolled her eyes and shook her head as Daddy wrestled us into the kitchen.  Man, aged Mommy, had grown bitchy.

We could hear from the kitchen as Daddy opened the porch door and asked if he could help aged Mommy.  “You know ya got cats?” the woman, who we knew was not Mommy, rasped in a voice that had encountered 10,000 cigarettes.  Daddy said no. “They were in my driveway then they ran under your house, get ‘em out of there,”

For a year we had been insisting that something was under our house.  We would look inside the grates and bark. Our parents had insisted it was nothing, but now we had proof! Cats!  Under our house! We’re we sleep! We’re our children come and play with their toys!

We immediately wanted Daddy to step aside and let us flush the cats, but he said he would handle it in a non-violent manner.  Freaking snowflake!


There was a gap in the slats under the house where the smaller HVAC unit was installed.  Daddy went there, looked inside and saw a cat sitting a few inches away. “I am sorry,” Daddy said “but you are going to have to leave. The Cigarette Lady is complaining about you.”   The cat tilted her head and stared at him. “Do you have any kitties in here?” he asked. Again, she did not answer. Daddy told her she had five minutes to move and take her kitties.

He waited, then went to the other side of the house, and crawled underneath.  There was stuff there from the Civil War. There were muskets, mini balls, Edsel parts, a wind-up phonograph, a VCR.  People who live here have shoved everything under their house for years. Daddy carefully crawled along the perimeter making sure there were no kitties.  A half-hour later he crawled out covered with cobwebs, dust, rat hair while looking like a guy trying to play a ghost on Scooby Doo. He then came into the house to get his secret weapon.  Me!

He took me to the place where the missing slat belonged, and for five minutes he let me sniff.  I took in deep breaths, short breaths, half breaths, and rapid breaths. There were a lot of scents under there that were fascinating.  I am pretty sure a former occupant killed his wife using formaldehyde. After 20 minutes I stepped back and gave Daddy my “all clear” grunt.

He put in a new slat cutting off the kitty entrance.  There was room under the HVAC unit for a kitty to squeeze through if it had got trapped under the house.  And if there was any meowing under the house Pocket and I would alert our parents. It has been a week, and we have been cat free.

So friends, make sure your houses are buttoned up tight, if not you are going to have cats, and you don’t want that.  

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Beat This Caption





I requested a temperature of 72 degrees for my bath.  This is clearly 68 degrees.  I am returning to my bed.  Please call me if you achieve the optimal temperature.

Monday, June 11, 2018

Monday Question

This might take some thought:

What is your motto?

Pocket:  If you give me a lap I will give you a lick.

River Song:  Wherever my mom is I am not far behind

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Lil' Girl is our June 10, 2018 Pup of the Week



IMHA
.
They are the four scariest letters in the dog alphabet.  It is a horrible disease that has claimed thousands of good dogs.  My great friends Mollie and Copper joined me at the Bridge because of this hideous illness.  Mollie’s fight was brief; Copper’s spanned a few years. The results were sadly the same.

Our friend Lil’ Girl has battled the illness for six years.  A remarkable achievement. Her surviving that long was due, in part, to the great IMHA Facebook Group, which brings needed guidance, and answered questions, to parents with babies diagnosed with this often fatal ailment.

The illness is as hard on parents as it is dogs.  It can strike with severe force at any time. Each day parents have to check their dog’s gums to make sure they are pink and any misstep, cough, sneeze, or lazy day is cause for concern.  It is a never-ending and expensive journey, but parents are glad to take it as long as their babies are alright.

Several days ago Lil Girl’s mom left her to go to work.  Lil Girl was happy and healthy but when her mom returned Lil Girl had pale gums, and her urine was dark.  The doctor told her that it was not the return of IMHA and probably an infection. She was sent home with some medication.

But it wasn’t an infection, and it wasn’t IMHF.  It was a leaky heart valve. Lil’ Girl needed a lot of heart to get through life.  She needed it to survive as a young, pregnant stray dog who was lovingly taken in by her family.  She needed it to help a litter of six dogs survive, including Ajax, who lived with her until her last day, for 12 years.  Her heart got her through her life so it makes a sad but certain sense that the heart would be the organ that ultimately failed her.

She did survive IMHF, but the only way to do that is to be taken by something else.   But Lil’ Girl didn’t succumb to anything; she fought every day of her life. None of us can be mortal and immortal at the same time, but she sure did try.

Lil’ Girl had lost touch with many of her Doggyspace friends when the site closed three years ago, but none of them had forgotten her.  They came running from all around Rainbow Bridge’s Doggyspace to reunite with their friend, to tell her how brave she was, how much they all admired her, and to help her with her hard transition ahead.

While her mom’s heart was broken when Lil’ Girl left her, she still has part of her baby, in Ajax, and she knows that she had the pleasure of living with a tough little girl who may not have defeated one of the deadliest diseases known to dogs, but she wrestled it to a draw.


And now she can become, like Cooper and Molly, another IMHF angel helping other parents and dogs fight this terrible disease.

Friday, June 8, 2018

Jasper and Sophie-Rae find Hope (and Josie too)


When Jasper and Sophie Rae crossed the River of Life within a few days of one another, they left their parents devastated.  Their two lost pups knew only new dogs would help repair the large hole in their parents’ hearts, but they also were aware that it would take time for their parents to open their hearts to a four-pawed baby, and that dog would have to be perfect
.
I don’t know if I have ever seen angels question more dogs than Jasper and Sophie Rae did.  Jasper conducted most of the interviews while Sophie Rae slipped into her parents’ dreams and nudged them towards letting a pup into their lives again.

Early this year I came upon the angel siblings discussing the issue.  Sophie said her parents could not be persuaded to let love back in their hearts.  The wound from their loss was still too severe. “How about we ease them into having a new dog by convincing them to foster?” Jasper asked.

Sophie-Rae anxiously agreed.  “We will find the best rescue dogs available, and then, when they are in our house, we can interview them more thoroughly.  We will know for sure which dogs will be worthy of being our parents’ pups.”

Sophie-Rae planted the idea of fostering dogs in their parents’ minds.  When they discussed the idea their parents were surprised to learn they were in total agreement.  They got to foster some wonderful dogs at the beginning until the pups found their forever homes.  Sophie-Rae was upset that they were losing perfectly good fosters, but Jasper assured her that their parents had to be foster successes before they ultimately failed and found their new pup.

What every grieving parents, wavering on the edge of opening their door to another forever dog needs, is a little Hope, and that is what Sophie and Jasper’s parents got when the fostered a female dog by that very name.  It was the first time they publically speculated about keeping a dog, and their friends and angels grew very excited.

But Jasper was not happy.  Hope would succeed Sophie-Rae, but his place in his parent’s heart was still raw.  His parents were fostering Josie and Jasper popped into his dreams and told him a secret.  If he bonded with Hope, then their parents would not have the heart to separate them, and Josie would have he forever home too.  Josie told him that would be easy because he already loved Hope very much.

Fosters came and went, but Josie and Hope stayed.  There was still no official word. Their foster parents were going on vacation and would decide the bonded duos fate upon their return.

While they were away from home, their parents realized their hearts ached for the mischevious pair.  When they got home, and saw how much Josie and Hope had missed them, and loved them, their minds were made up.  Josie and Hope were foster failures. They had found their forever home.

We commenced a huge feast for Jasper and Sophie-Rae in recognition of a job well done.  And our mortal dogs tipped their tails to Josie and Hope for the same reason.
And now we wait with great anticipation to learn about the adventures of Josie and Hope just as we had Jasper and Sophie-Rae and we will watch as the holes in their parent's hearts are rebuilt.


Congratulations to you four wonderful pups and to your mom and dad. Long may you be family, and great shall be the joy you share.

Thursday, June 7, 2018

Pocket and the Lost Tags

Saturday night Mommy’s brother and his wife were over.  River Song and I like when we have visitors because that means more attention for us.  Sometimes it is nice to get some other folks scratching and petting. By now I know all my parents’ moves, and I am ready for some strange.

I was lying on Mommy’s right side, and River was on her left.  I stood up to go visit Uncle Tom when Mommy looked down and saw my tags were no longer attached to my harness.  She asked my Dad where the tags were and he didn’t know either. I didn’t care. I was getting a fresh hand on me.  My tags were the least of my concerns.

My parents continued to discuss the missing identifications.  They accused me of losing them, which made me angry because the tags are clipped to my harness and rest on my back.  If they did slip off me, my paws are not equipped to stop them from falling to the ground. I was an innocent tag loser.

They began to argue right in front of their guests, who didn’t give a besotted cuss about my tags and were hoping to have more stimulating Saturday night conversations than the musings of two people about the limited travel of a tiny dog.

Mommy was sure the tags were on me that morning because she is always rubbing me and would have noticed they were gone.  Daddy was sure I had them on when we went to the groomers on Wednesday. He would have seen them missing when he took off my vest before handing me over.

When I was brought home from the groomer, I once again escaped my travel bag and made my way to the front seat.  Daddy, thinking that is when I lost the tags, left his guests to check the car and the bag, even though Mommy insisted that I had been wearing my tags the previous day.  After this fruitless endeavor, my parents realized their guests were staring at their phones trying to find something interesting to occupy their time. To try and save the night Daddy dug out the Gay family geology to tell them about his great great great great great Aunt Jemima Gay.  She was the daughter of Timothy Gay and his wife Submit Gay. Great great great great great great grandmother Submit’s maiden name was Blackman. Coincidentally Submit Blackman and Submit Gay were the founding principles of J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI.

Back to my tags.  My parents decided they must have magically popped off of my harness during my walk.  After our guests were on their way home, talking how the only good thing about their dreadful evening was us dogs, Daddy took us outside where he saw the stroller we use to oversee the garden work on Mondays.  He checked inside and found my tags.

I am happy they were found but also incensed that they pay so little attention to me that they did not notice my tags were missing for five days.  First my tags then me. On some random Saturday night, a guest is going to ask about me, and my parents will realize I have been sitting in the stroller for five nights!  Or one of them is going to at me and say “Oh, Pocket’s missing an eye, I wonder when that happened?”

I need to make sure they are paying more attention to me, and there is only one way to do that.  My Mommy has been complaining about my barking, and I was going to stop, but now I must redouble my efforts.  



When I bark, I get attention and I need more of that.

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Beat This Caption



Please, mommy, I promise to never eat bacon off the counter again, just end this madness

Monday, June 4, 2018

Monday Question

What do you do when you are left alone at home?

Pocket:  I am in my crate with a blanket and a small bed.  I usually stand up waiting for my parents to come home but lie down when I am tired.  There is a lot of barking involved.


River Song:  I am nor in a crate because I always managed to get out of it.  I spend my time either on a chair looking out the living room window or standing looking out the kitchen window.  Sometimes I lie on the kitchen table.  I am always on guard.  

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Presley is our June 3 2018 Pup of the Week


There has been a constant march of friends to the Bridge this year.  I have tried to chronicle each of their journeys, but it has been overwhelming.  I genuinely hope I haven’t missed anyone.

Some of these journeys have been expected, others have been a surprise but understood.  I don’t know if it is because of the number of friends who have passed, and families who have grieved, but when Presley passed this week it seemed so devastating.

Presley’s passing came like a lightning strike on a sunny day.  It was unexpected, and inconceivable, something that was supposed to happen in the distant future.  When Presley awoke to greet his last day as a mortal dog, no one expected the darkness evening would bring.  Presley was the same dog he had been for 11 years, without a hint of illness.

But inside this precious boy was a tumor that exploded on Thursday.  He went from happily playing to being in severe distress in a heartbeat.  I know it happens that way sometimes, but when Presley was struck down, it was calamitous.  He had always been so active and healthy. He seemed like he would live forever.

That was because we had known Presley forever.  It has been ten years since we first met him on social media when he was just a puppy.  Only a few days would pass without his proud mother Aunt Beth writing about Presley’s mischievous behavior.  Rarely would a week pass without him giving us a smile. He was part of our lives, and without warning, he was gone from the mortal world.

He has been with his brother Jovi for so long it is inconceivable to think of Jovi being without him.   Presley and Jovi ran together as lyrically as they did in their yard. Now, Jovi is confused and alone.

Every Rainbow Bridge greeting is different.  Some are joyous, and some are somber. Presley’s was one of the saddest I can recall.  We could not wait for him to climb the stairs. We angels all ran en masse to him and held him silently.

“I think we should finish this,” Presley finally said.  He was not sad, but he was disappointed. There was so much more he would have like to have accomplished as a mortal dog.  But, while we dogs make plans the fates laugh.

Tag and Atlas, two of his brothers, met him after he passed Stella’s step.  There was another long, silent hug. More than us angels, those two knew the wonderful life Presley had, and the tragedy of it ending.

We all stood together as the huge clouds full of tears for Presley fell on us, ran down our furs, then over our paws, either puddling or flowing into the River of Life.  I could barely remember a harder tear rain. I wanted to tell my friend he had been greatly honored by the mortal humans who knew him but it wasn’t the time. He had a lot of adjusting to do.

Presley started his new job of being his mother’s angel quietly.  I knew his angel visits home bothered him because Aunt Beth was so sad, and for the first time in his existence, he could not ease her pain with a look and a lick.  But we all vowed to teach him how to let his mom know he was there even when she knew it wasn’t possible he was.

Slowly, Presley is beginning to adjust to life as an angel. He most enjoys doing good for others, which should not be surprising for us who know this good-natured boy.
Sometimes mortal life is cruel.  I so wish it wasn’t. If only Presley had more time.

All we can do, when something has been broken, is try to accept that today will be worse than yesterday and hope that tomorrow is better than both.

Friday, June 1, 2018

Reba Messina's Pet Dragon


I have been getting a number of complaints lately about bad smells and sounds coming from the woods behind Doggyspace.  I did not want to investigate. It has been my experience that bad smells and sounds never lead to anything good. But when Hattie Mae barged into my office saying the smell was getting into the clothes she hung on her line I knew I would have to take action.
I did not want the other angels to know what I was doing.  I was just walking along, sniffing the ground, like all terriers do, when I caught a heavy, unknown scent.  I followed the smell to Reba Messina’s house and then into her backyard. I followed a path down a meadow and stopped when I found the smell’s source.

Standing in front of me was a huge dinosaur.  I had visited them recently and figured this big fellow had come to see me and got lost.  But then the beast opened his mouth, and suddenly fire shot out. I had made the worst mistake you could make concerning big lizards.  I had mistaken a dinosaur for a dragon.

But that was impossible.  Dragons never existed. So how could one be here? “Puff!  Puff!” I heard a voice yell. I turned to see my good friend, Reba Messina, running towards me.  “Puff, Foley is my friend, don’t hurt her.” Puff, apparently, the dragon, put his huge mouth next to my face and took a deep breath, and then he licked me covering me with hot dragon saliva.  

I wiped the spit away.  “Reba, first you aren’t supposed to have big reptiles here, and second you have one that doesn’t exist!”

“Puff does too exist,” Reba said.  “I found him, and he is my friend.”

“But your neighbors are complaining about the sound and smell.”

Reba went over to Puff and patted him on the nose.  Puff let out a purr. “Where did you find this dragon?” I asked.

“In the land of make-believe,” Reba said.

Oh, boy.  Reba went to the land of make believe?  No one was supposed to go there and if you did slip through you couldn’t bring anything back.  So many rules had been broken. And now I had to get permission from the Board of Big Guys to let Reba keep Puff behind her house.  It was such a big violation I thought that even with my skills of persuasion I would fall short.

I was going to the Big Guy Board to plead Reba and Puff’s case when suddenly Hattie Mae lead a group of villagers out of the forest with torches and pitchforks.  They all stopped, stunned when they saw Puff. He slowly walked towards her, bent down, and gave Hattie a big lick. “Gross!” Hattie yelled. But Brody began laughing at his best friend, and then all our friends were laughing until even Hattie raised a smile.

Reba told us to watch what Puff could do.  She then got on Puff’s back, and they took off into the sky.  We watched as they traveled on a boat with a billowed sail with Reba perched on Puff’s mighty tail    Noble kings and princes bowed to them. Pirate ships lowered their flags when Puff let out his mighty roar.

As they landed, Reba told us Puff’s story.  A smug little bastard named Jackie Paper played with Puff until Jackie found girls and forgot about his dragon friend abandoning him in a cave.  As dogs, it was a story we knew too well. We agreed we would never forget about Puff or let him be alone again. Even Hattie Mae went for a ride and demanded we call her Khaleesi.

I never did tell the Big Guy Board about Puff, and when one of them came around we dressed Puff up as a really big dog, and he slept under a tree.


Reba tells us she adopted Puff and Puff says he adopted Reba, but as is often true they adopted, and saved, each other and everyone in the Rainbow Bridge’s Doggyspace Family has had their lives improved by Reba’s and Puff’s friendship.

Thursday, May 31, 2018

River Tries To Save a Butterfly Bush


On Monday, one of my favorite plants, butterfly bush number 2, needed an operation.  We had a hard winter, and one section of the bush became bent and was scraping the driveway.  Mommy and Daddy studied the patient. They discussed cutting back the bush and removing the scraping section down to the root.  One of them suggested to try to tie off the bush to keep in standing, but the ground was too soft and the bush too strong.

Pocket and I were in our buggy.  I calmly listened and tried to determine the best course of action.  Pocket fretted over her favorite bush and only mumbled nervously. She would be no help.  The bush’s future was in my paws.

“We need to trim the back of the bush and completely cut the front,” I said confidently.
  
“Oh no, we can’t trim any of the bush!” Pocket cried.   Her worrisome nature was annoying.

“I am not sure River,” Mommy said.  “What if the bush doesn’t come back?”

“Dammit Mommy, I’m a doctor, not a pathologist.  !  But I know how to save this bush. Just listen to me.  The Griff always knows.” I barked.

Mommy and Daddy briefly discussed it.  They knew I was right. Mommy began to slowly cut away the branches.  Pocket gave out a small cry with each cut. Slowly the plant began to take shape again.  Mommy did not have the strength to dig the roots from the front part of the bush out of the ground.

Daddy had to come with a saw and shovel to remove the crushed part of the bush. It was hard to watch as he had to twist it back and forth, cutting the roots until it was free.  He then had to snip our flowering friend, who had brought so many butterfly angels into our yard, into smaller parts, and shove it into a trash bag like he had performed a mob hit.

I was impressed with the surgeons’ techniques.  The bush looks strong and healthy, even though it only a quarter of the size it was before the operation.  Mommy isn’t sure it is going to make it. She is going to have to give it a lot of tender loving care in the weeks to come. 

Our butterfly bushes are very important to us.  They are a beacon to draw in visiting angels. We are going to need Butterfly Bush #2 back to full strength in a month.  Angel visiting time is upon us, and we have to make sure they find their way our abode.

If you are so inclined to pray for vegetation, then please pray for our butterfly bush.  If it doesn’t survive then, well, I guess we will just buy a new one, so it’s not the end of the world, except for butterfly bush #2.  

Keep butterfly bush #2 alive.  It fought through the winter, it fought while being cut back, it fought through the aphid infestation, and it is fighting now.

Surely a Butterfly Bush #2 deserved an #2 chance,

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Beat This Caption

I'm telling you I found chopsticks and a lo mein box.  I have almost reached China.

Monday, May 28, 2018

Monday Question

On this Memorial Day please name the pets you are remembering this day

Foley Monster
Sky
Jax
Copper
Blake
Gizmo
Barney



Nico

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Stella Rose is our May 27, 2018 Pup of the Week


On April 24 my sister River Song got this message from our friend Stella.

“Dear Mrs. Marsha:  This is Stella Rose just in case you thought it is that crazy ass ferret Ed, I just wanted to clarify.  So anyway in case you didn't know I have been sick AGAIN, wif those damn stones and I wanted to address somefing wif you.  I know your River has connections wif the "Big Guy" and I wondered if you could discuss something wif River and him for me. I decided I wanted to share my plan, wif you, and River and I guess the "Big Guy".  So when the time comes and the medicines stop working, I have decided I am not crossing over to the Rainbow Bridge, I am only going 10 steps across, and putting up a pup (lol) tent, and building a fire wif smores, and just waiting around on my mom. Even if it takes 50 years, I am just going to wait.   Now I am sure there are rules and fings up there, so that is why I need River on my side about this. So I hope I am not putting you in a precarious position but it is somefing I just wanted to talk to you about. It is not that I think I am special and should not cross like all the other dogs and kittens and cats etc. do, but I am just a rather stubborn little pug, and have been known to dig my heels in when something does not set well wif me.  So ten steps, and I wait, for however long it takes. If I run out of smores its okay. Your Friend in Blogville.......Stellie Rose”

River gave me Stella’s letter the next time I visited her in her dreams.  “What did you tell her?” I asked River.

“I said it was perfectly fine,” River said, unconcerned.

“You said it was fine!” I barked.  “It’s not fine. This has never been done before.  This is unheard of. Not completing the journey!” I was very flustered.  “You have to tell her no!”

River shrugged.  “Sorry, I already said yes and you know you can’t break a promise to a pug.”

I hurried back to the Bridge. I had so much work to do before Stellie got there.  I met with the Big Guy. I met with a Board of Big Guy’s. I met with the Big Guy Board.  Finally, I was given a judgment. Stellie could stop ten steps away from Rainbow Bridge and wait.

Last week Casey, one of our newer angels, came to tell me that Stella visited him in his dreams.  She said she would be joining us very soon, but she had changed her mind. Stella would climb to the top step and be closer to Casey, Trudee. Sammy J and Cotton, but she would still be only 21 steps from her mom.   She had no intention of completing her journey. What was I going to tell the Big Guy Board?

I stood before them and said that Stella would be stopping at the 21st step and not the 10th.  Oh, how the Big Guys thundered! Lightning bolts were thrown! Hail rained down from the heavens!.  Who was to blame for this outrage, they asked. I stammered, I stuttered, and then I blurted out the world’s oldest excuse:  “Spell check error.”
They stopped their grumbling.  “Oh, spell check error, perfectly understandable, Stella’s plans were approved.

I hurried back to Rainbow Bridge Landing, and I found Stella, on the top step, setting up her tent.  She smiled and blew me a kiss. “Don’t you want to come all the way to the top?” I asked. “You can get your wings, fly through the hills, eat at the chocolate forest, choose a body from any time in your life, or become a butterfly to see your parents.  It’s just one more step.”

Stella was a very stubborn little girl.  But that stubbornness served her well. It got her through going blind, becoming mostly deaf, suffering debilitating, painful bladder stones, and back leg problems that greatly affected her walking.  But Stella kept moving forward, through the darkness, the silence, and those long nights when it was just her and the pain. She stayed by her mother’s side longer than most dogs could bear. Now, after her mom had helped her pass, she would not take that final step onto the Bridge, afraid that cord that had connected Stella and her mom would break if she did.

“I am fine,” Stella assured me as she finished her tent.  I ducked inside as the clouds of humans tears for her passing passed past over us.  When I opened the flap, Casey ran inside, knocking me over. He licked and kissed Stella so much he would have suffocated her if she still needed air.

And that is where she has been ever since.  Casey spends a lot of time with her, but he also runs with his siblings.  Each day I ask Stella if she wants to take the final step and she says no, she will wait for her mom.  She has become the first angel to greet dogs when they arrive at the Bridge. I don’t mind that she usurped me.  I am still the official greeter and oath giver.


No one passed a proclamation or made it official, but the top step is now known as Stella’s step and will be long after her mom takes the final step with her and they walk off together into Rainbow Bridge.

Friday, May 25, 2018

A girls night out with Whitley, Sophie and Pepper turns into a rescue mission


With all the new angels we have greeted this month it was time for me to have a girl’s night out.  I gathered my good friends Whitley the Westie who whipped up some awesome clothes for us to wear, Pepper, always a fun little girl, and Sophie-Rae, the most loyal lady I know, who I had to pry from her brother’s Jasper side with the promise of many free Foleytinis.

First I took my girls out dancing.  Whitley is an expert jitterbugger. She is small but her little white paws move quickly.  Sophie-Rae is more of a ballroom girl and every boy in the place wanted to whirl her around the dance floor.  Pepper got up on the bar and kept every entertained with her twerking while I crowd surfed across the floor.

Then we went to Hawaii.  We didn’t want to make light of the terrible problems the volcanoes have caused but when you and your squad get a chance to ride the lava you can’t pass it up.  We were all shot high in the air by the warm liquid and then we went flying down the mountain faster than we have ever gone before. We had never been warmer or gone faster.  We have to warn that this should only be done by the immortal dogs. If a mortal dog tried they could end up more than singed.

We went down to the beach.  It was nighttime and we were going to lay there until dawn when Pepper said that she smelled something burning.  I turned around and saw that my tail was on fire. I ran into the ocean to put the fire out. It caused the ocean to sizzle.

The other girls were laughing at my misfortune and I was embarrassed but then I realized I was with my squad and I laughed with them.  Sophie Rae said we should help the people who have lost their homes. There wasn’t much physically we could do for them but we gave them a special blessing for good luck because there is no worse luck than losing your home to a volcano.

I was again amazed, looking at these poor people who have lost their homes, that they still maintained their strength and dignity.  I try to maintain mine, but sometimes things go wrong, like the other day there was no margarine in the refrigerator. I lost it. I guess that is why we are the support animals.  The humans have the right attitude for the big stuff while we are made to provide them support while they accomplish amazing things.

We spent the rest of the night trying to get pets that had been left behind to the humans who were looking for them. We can communicate with animals better than humans so we directed the pets where to find their rescuers.  After saving as many scared animals as we could Sophie-Rae, Pepper, Whitley and I returned home.


Such is the lives of pup angels.  Even when we try to party we end up helping.  I guess that is what makes us angels.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Pocket's True Confessions


I don’t get to go to church often, so I need to make my confessions here and now.
Sometimes I pretend I don’t want to eat when I actually do. My parents give me attention and eventually more food.

I give River a mean look which causes her to snap at me and then I whine and get lots of snuggling from my parents.

On walks, when I want to sniff the ground longer, I pretend to pee because my parents don’t pull on the leash when I am peeing.

I have eaten both grain free food and food full of grain, and they both taste like crap.

Actually, that isn’t true.  If River poops on the pads and I  get there first, I eat her poop, and I like it more than kibble.

Sometimes, I will bark for no reason in the middle of the night to make my parents move so I can sleep on the warm spot on the bed.

During walks, when I endlessly bark at my neighbors, I am criticizing their fashion choices.  Long pants and flip-flops together annoy me.
If parents can yell at the TV during sporting events, the
n I can look out the window and bark at nothing.

I love to talk with my friends on the Internet, but if I met them in real life, I would probably just bark at them, wag my tail, and make a fool of myself.

The only thing I have learned that is close to a trick is acting like I didn’t get a treat and making my other parent give me another one.

I know what those signs with the squatting dog on a lawn with an x through it mean but I always leave a little poop in my system just for their lawn.

When it comes to pee-mail, she who pees last pees the longest.

It is weird that I don’t mind sniffing River’s butt, but I don’t like that we drink out of the same dish.


Sometimes I fake wagging my tail.  I’m not excited, but it makes my parents happy to think they are leaving me satisfied, and I just want to go to sleep, so a little fake wag never hurt anyone.

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Beat This Caption



I told you we had pigs.  You said, "oh no, how could we have pigs." Well, not only do we have pigs but we have pigs in a blanket.  I swear, no one ever listens to the dog.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Monday Question

What do you do that always makes your parents smile?

Pocket:  When I paw at my parents with a particular pathetic expression because I am sad and want attention.


River:  When my parents are eating supper, and they have some kibble on the table for us, and I want a kibble, my eyes dart back and forth from one parent to the next and then at the kibble as if I am saying "I would like one of those please." 

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Scooter is our May 20 2018 Pup of the Week



Life is often cruel.  Even after nearly five years at Rainbow Bridge, I don’t understand why terrible things happen to wonderful people.  No one on either side of the River of Life does. There are theories: The aggrieved party is being tested. There will be a greater reward for them someday.  I wish I knew if this was true. I just know senseless things continue to happen to people who deserve only the best.

I have been friends with the Min-Pin Gang for as long as I can remember.  Crickette Anne joined me at Rainbow Bridge in October 2014. She has been a prayer leader for her sister Mouse who has has been battling illnesses for months.   Little did any of us know we should have been praying for her brother Scooter.

Two weeks ago, in the midst of Mouse’s health issues, and their mom, Aunt Betty, being at the end of her emotional rope, Scooter began to experience throat reflex, gagging, and was licking the floor.  Scooter had been his mom’s rock during Mouse’s crises. Now his crises were more critical than his sister’s.

I admit I did not think Scooter’s condition was serious.  Pocket had acted the same way when her tummy was upset, as did I when I had a trachea incident.  I thought it would pass, and Aunt Betty hoped it would pass, but it didn’t, and Scooter had to go the vet.


X-rays looked good, and the vet hoped it was a passing incident, but Scooter kept licking and hacking, then he ate a piece of carpet.  He had to be taken back to the vet. The carpet was obstructing his digestion and needed to be surgically removed. The vet thought the surgery was successful and said Scooter could go home the next day, but he passed away that night
.
Both Crickette Anne and I were shocked to see Scooter walking over the Bridge then climbing the stairs to induction ledge.  We could tell the mortals were shocked too because of the number of tears that fell on us. Crickette Anne hugged her little brother; I gave him his angel vows, Ladybug fit him for his wings, Paco and Leo signed him up for dream classes so he could see his mom then Crickette showed them their home.

Most of us know what caused us to go to the Bridge.  But Scooter was as baffled as everyone else. He knew he wasn’t feeling well, and having anything in his belly made it feel better, but the question will eternally remain why.  There is no way for us angels to know, and when parents lose a heart dog, knowing why doesn’t help. Nothing will ease Aunt Betty’s sorrow.

The only thing that life promises is that it will never be fair.  Everyone deals with unfair episodes in their lives, but Aunt Betty has been put through more than her share.  She is mourning the sudden passing of her healthy dog while still dealing with the emotions and expenses of her sick dog.  People have been praying very hard for Mouse since the start of her illness, but now, with Scooter gone, we need to double our efforts.

Humans bare their bad luck.  They really are a remarkable and resilient species.  I watch them after they lose their pups, and I don’t think it is possible for them to go on.  But they do. Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, through more misfortune than imaginable, humans keep going forward.

If you are one of the lucky people, who is experiencing a run of good fortune maybe you could spare some coins for Aunt Betty who has been swamped by vet bills during her crises.  There is a Go Fund Me page here https://www.gofundme.com/vet-expenses-for-mouse  and if you can’t we understand.
So many people are facing so much misfortune, but I know you will survive.


You are humans, and that is what you do.

Friday, May 18, 2018

Casey is our May 18 2018 Pup of the Week


Another week is gone, and more of my friends have arrived at Rainbow Bridge.  I will not let a single one pass through the gates at the end of Rainbow Bridge without paying tribute to them.  Hopefully, my words can bring just a single second of comfort to their bereaved parents because if we can’t provide comfort for friends in need what is the point of existence?

A month ago I wrote about Jessie, my Blogville friend, who passed over the Bridge, a victim of renal failure, just short of her fourth birthday.  Having young dogs arrive here is particularly hard as we can see the future they could have had with their family if they had not been so unfairly claimed by illness.  What makes these premature passings even more tragic is they usually have an older sibling who is closer to the age dogs mortal lives end.

Casey is Jessie’s big brother.  As much as their mom loved Jessie she knew, from the moment that she met Casey, that they would share a bond that she would never experience with another pup. Mom and dog were meant to be together, going on walks with Casey’s head held high and snuggling on the couch together for hours.  Casey was a heart dog, his mom’s handsome man, her baby boy. He was happy if he was with his mom, and so was she.

Earlier this year Casey was diagnosed with cancer, and all the doctor could give him was an estimate of the time he had left.  His mom promised him that they would make the most of their time together and she would never let him lose his dignity. When his body began failing him his mom arranged for Casey’s favorite people to visit him to tearfully say goodbye and then she took him to the vet.

Mother and dog promised they would see each again.  She stroked her boy and told him she was upholding her promise.  He would not live in pain; he would not lose his dignity, the bad memories would not outweigh the good.  Casey knew the gift of eternal life he was receiving, and he quietly slept from the mortal world to the immortal one.

He appeared in the distance, running as he had as a pup, turning and crossing the Bridge, tiny pebbles being kicked up under his paws.  He stopped and saw Jessie, and Cinderella, who had preceded Jessie to the Bridge, along with dozens of other angels, cheering Casey as he ran up the steps and into his sisters’ open arms and holding each other for a long time.

He graciously allowed me to give him the angel oath, and be fitted for his wings while the clouds of human tears fell on us.  When the skies had cleared from the good hard rain, Casey told his sisters he made his mom a promise, which the three of them would run through the hills, streams, and valleys, laughing all the way, just as she had envisioned.  The trio of siblings darted off and ran together for hours.

Now, when not playing together, they are visiting their mom as birds, butterflies and ghosts.while slipping into her dreams hoping for just one second she will recognize them or remember their visits.  The odds are slim. But so are the odds of finding the perfect heart dog. His mom did that with Casey.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

River Is Not An Easy Dog To Pick Up


I am not, by any means, an easy dog.  I do not like to be picked up.

If I want to be with you there is no stopping me.  I have been known to, in bed, leaning against one of my parents so hard that my 14 pounds can shove them off the bed.  I also, if I want some Dad kisses, can jump up on the recliner, stand on his chest, and pleasure myself.

Without the desire for licks, I become very shy about getting up in the chair.  It’s not that I can’t do it. When my parents are out of the house they know I have been on the chairs and prowling the end tables.  This Saturday I somehow turned off the Alexa Soothing Music For Dogs with Separation Anxiety and turned on the TV,
Just so you know Amazons’ Soothing Music For Dogs with Separation Anxiety sucks.  I don’t know where they find these hipster crooners but their tepid tunes don’t soothe me but rather incite me to find a hammer and smash the tiny Echo so I can pace, worry, and drool in peace. After several tries adjusting my bark I was finally able to bark “Alexa, for the love of God, stop!” As for turning on the TV, I figured out how the remote works.  If I can decipher how to scroll through the channel guide I will have mastered the home entertainment world.

While I fly around the house when it is vacant, if my parents are in their chairs, and I do not feel the urgent need to lick a face, I lose my lift. My parents call me to come sit in the recliners with them but I pace the floor, lick my nose, push off with my back legs, but my butt never leaves the floor.

I wonder if I need to go to a pup psychologist.  I don’t yip when my parents are seated but I have the yips.  Like a pitcher who can’t throw a strike, I am a dog who can’t jump in a chair.  I overthink the amount of thrust I need, where I will land if I will fall and I fail to launch.

Worse, when my parents relent and bend down to pick me up, I retreat to the far side of the room and curl into a ball, too ashamed of my inability to do what should come naturally.   Then I put my head down and bend away from my parents as I cower at my failure. Kindly, like I am an elderly dog who no longer has the ability, or worse, a shorty like Pocket, I am aided to the chair, where I contently sit until something catches my eye, I jump down and start the entire process again.

I do need to get over my chair yips.  If anyone knows a good dog psychiatrist let me know.  If that is not possible I need the number of a pharmacist who can get me a Cialis prescription.  From what I hear it helps Dad to lift off when he can’t get off the ground.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Beat This Capiton

"So you found out!  Well, I don't care. We are in love.  Who is to say it is wrong? You? The world?  Well, we are done playing by your rules man! Now shut the door and leave us alone.”

Monday, May 14, 2018

Monday Question

Can you do any tricks?

Pocket:  I was raised with Foley who found doing tricks to be demeaning to dogs.  I wished I learned them.  They do make our parents happy.




River:  I can shake hands.  I can also walk backward on two legs but that is not a trick it is just a way to keep my eyes on my food bowl while walking to where I know it will be placed.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Hobo Hudson is our May 13 2018 Pup of the Week



Fifty years in the future I sit correcting papers for my Dog Lawyers class at Hobo Hudson University.  I am one of the hundreds of teachers instructing unborn puppies the laws that must not be broken to fulfill Hobo’s dream to make the world a better place.

This has been Hobo’s dream since he arrived at Rainbow Bridge in a rush.  He was talking before I could finish my induction. “The world is such a mess,” Hobo interrupted.  “The key is that souls are born knowing nothing, but what if they knew right from wrong immediately and grew up as moral, fair-minded souls?   Life would certainly be better.”

I didn’t have time to agree with him before he buzzed by me, his friends and family who had arrived to greet him.  He went right to the library where I found him sitting on the floor surrounded by plans. “Hobo,” I said softly, “a lot of dogs have different reactions when they arrive here.”

He held up a paw.  “No time Foley. I have a meeting with Aristotle. He read the proposal I sent him and agrees.  He is going to start working with human babies. Imagine people being born who have been taught by the history’s best teachers?  We are going to change the world.” Before I could talk Hobo had run out the door to meet with Aristotle.

The great philosopher agreed with Hobo and acquiesced to work with the unborn babies.  Soon, from the human side to the dog side, the sound of construction echoed off the mountains of Rainbow Bridge.  In weeks the new buildings were done, the universities opened and the unborn were being taught.

Hobo’s closest friends including, Hattie Mae, Tommy Tunes. Smoochy, Brody, Leo and I began to teach classes in our respected fields. Hobo acted as both dean and president while instructing a class on manipulating the bone market.  The Angels said they had never seen a dog adapt better to being at the Bridge than Hobo but I knew better.

I began working later at night and waiting.  One evening I heard a soft weeping coming down the hall.  I walked to Hobo’s office and saw him looking out the window and crying.  He saw my reflection and quickly composed himself.
“Damn allergies,” he said blowing his nose.

“It’s time,” I said walking towards him and taking him by the paw.  He weakly insisted he could not leave but let me guide him anyway. We came to the borrowed bodies factory and each chose a lovely tree swallow.  “Are you ready Hobo?” I asked. He sadly nodded agreeing to do what he had put off since he reached the Bridge.

Paw in paw we flew into the sun and came out in Hobo’s parents’ backyard.  We glided to the kitchen window. “There they are,” Hobo said softly as he gazed at his parents sitting with Wiley.  His dad’s eyes were slightly vacant. His mom stared ahead. “They are so sad,” Hobo said softly. Then his dad looked up and saw us at the window.  He smiled slightly and nodded acknowledgment. Hobo, in his swallow body, nodded back, and then we flew back to the Bridge. When we arrived Hobo thanked me.
I gave him a hug.  “That is why we do angel visits,” I told him.  “They are hard on us, but it gives our parents a few moments of pleasure, and that’s what angels do.”

“I was just a dog tied to a tree,” Hobo said quietly.  “My dad walked by every day. Finally, he asked the owner if he could take me home.  Since then Foley, I had the greatest life. I became famous, I wrote two books,” he paused and looked deeply into my eyes.  “If you are going to write about this then here would be a good place to plug the books.”

(The Richest Dog in Town can be bought here and Bioterrorism Seized the Sea can be bought here.)

“Look at all the wonderful people you have brought into your parents’ lives Hobo,” I told him.  “If not for you, when you passed over, your parents would have only each other to help them grieve.  But they have people from all over the world who are mourning with them. You gave them joy, and people to love, there is no greater gift.”

“And they gave me my life,” Hobo said.  “I didn’t think I could bare to visit them, but now that I have maybe we can do it some more.  It sure was nice to see dad’s smile again.”

I promised him we could go anytime he wanted.

Now, 50 years later, Hobo’s parents are with him, as is Wyley, and their entire family. Mine is as well. We are all happy together like we were when we first met at Doggyspace.

The world is a much kinder, gentler place as well.  Hobo’s and Aristotle’s idea for a university for babies and puppies took years to bear fruit but now countries cooperate with one another and people reason instead of fight.  No one on the mortal side knows what turned the world from being an angry place that seemed ready to explode once a week to a peaceful one.

But we angels know.  It was the Hobo Effect. 

Once again Hobo has saved the world.  

Friday, May 11, 2018

Daisy is our May 11 2018 Pup of the Week


Normally I wait until Sunday to announce my Pup of the Week but when two giants depart for the Bridge within two days of one another both need to be honored with their own blog.  Today, sadly, I am writing about sweet Daisy.

The cruelest reasons that souls pass to the Bridge are usually ones that start out quite ordinary.  Daisy was constipated. She went to the doctor who gave her some medication. The constipation passed, but she would not eat.  The vet said she had gas and gave her more medication. But, even with the medicine, Daisy still showed no interest in food. She grew weaker and was no longer the fun-loving dog we all knew.  There was little to be done to for her. Her father gave her the most precious gift and sent her to the Bridge.

Her dad will be happy to know that when Daisy crossed the Bridge, she did so running.  Daisy, when she was on the mortal side, loved to run. She spent a lot of time on the farm with her dad.  There were acres to run and play with her brother Kane. There wasn’t a rabbit safe in the entire state of Kansas.

Daisy’s last year as a mortal was a struggle.  She had a cyst that needed to be removed and cut down on her activity.  A farm dog trapped inside and unable to help with the crops is one sad baby.

Now Daisy will never be stuck inside when there is farming work to be done again.  Once she went through the usual rituals of becoming immortal, the swearing in, the fitting of wings, the lessons on dream, butterfly, bird, and ghosting visits, and how to watch over her family, we brought Daisy to the Rainbow Bridge Doggyspace Farm.

I know many parents have told their children when they have not been able to confess that their beloved pet had gone to the Bridge, that they sent the dog to a farm upstate where it could play with the other animals and have fun all day long.  Little did these parents know that there was such a farm, but it isn’t upstate, it is just up the road from Doggyspace, and lots of dogs are doing what parents thought was a white led, running, playing, and caring for the animals.

Daisy isn’t just playing, because she has so much farm experience she is in charge of many of the angels who happily work on the farm.  In just a few days Daisy has made the operation more productive. We all have delicious fresh vegetables every day because Daisy has learned how to make broccoli taste like bacon.

We all know how terribly heartbroken Kane, his parents, and friends are now that Daisy is gone.  They have a hole in their hearts that will be there a long time. We are all going to work hard to make them smile and know they are loved, and Daisy is going to spend lots of time visiting them.  I am sure, on the family farm, there will be lots of opportunities for Daisy to borrow winged bodies and say hello to her mortal family. We hope it comforts them to know that somewhere in a land they cannot get to yet Daisy is making the immortal lives of angels better by being Miss Daisy, a gentle lady farmer.

As she told me while we looked over her long field of chocolate corn, she learned from the best farmer, her Dad.

We all tip our tails to him for raising such a well mannered, caring, and talented dog. 

The mortal world is worse off for Daisy’s passings, but the immortal world has become better, and the universe stays in balance.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Pocket Gets Caught Up on Her Pee Mail


Warm weather has finally arrived in our little corner of the world.  We had a glorious garden day on Monday. All the flower beds have been cleaned and new buds are coming up every day.  The grass is green, thick, and tickles our paws. St. Anthony is out of the shed and back watching over our blossoms.

We are enjoying the longer walks spring brings. We bark a loud hello to all our elderly neighbors who love to joke with us by saying “Oh God, not those two, loud little dogs again.”  Longer walks mean going to areas we have not explored in months and getting caught up on pee-mail we have missed. Mr. Lancaster has been sneaking in Mrs. Smithers while his wife is at work, according to his dog Pepper.  That Mr. Lancaster is a scamp.

Here are some of the updates I left for my friends via my pee-mail.

The warmer weather has allowed my parents to turn on their new HVAC unit.  Three years ago they had another new unit installed with a five-year warranty.  After two years it no longer worked. The installer would not honor the warranty, my parents had to sue, we went through the entire summer with only two window units, until October when my parents won their court case and had a different contractor put in a new unit.  It ran for a day and froze up on Friday.

This was a very frustrating day for my parents.  My Dad called the new installer who said he could not look at the new unit for a week.  My Dad went to print out the warranty off the computer and the printer would not work. He had opened the porch windows and the front door to get air in the house.  We went out on the porch to bark at old people. Our Mommy told us to come in the house and she slammed the door shut. Daddy said he had it open to let the aforementioned air in the house.  Mommy went to open it and the door wouldn’t budge. With everything else that had happened my parents thought it was par for the course that the door was stuck. Daddy went out the back, came around the house and tried to shove open the door but it wouldn’t budge. 

 He stood back to run into the door and knock it down. That is when Mommy realized that when she has shut it the deadbolt had moved and locked. She turned it, opened the door, and Daddy stumbled over the threshold and fell into the house. My parents are so funny.  

I do miss the cold air at bedtime.  My snuggle spot is at Daddy’s waist.  I curl up in a ball. He puts a hand on me and we fall into a blissful sleep.  But now I get hot under there quickly and end up sleeping on top of the covers. Such are the sacrifices we make for good garden days.

One day last week Dad had what is called a colonoscopy.  He spent lots of time in the bathroom. I didn’t mind during the day but he got out of bed at night and was in the bathroom for an hour.  It was not only rude because I could not snuggle with him, and River was hogging mom, but there were a lot of loud, unpleasant noises coming out of the bathroom.  It kept me awake. He really should have used the front bathroom. He finally got in bed and I snuggled with him but every hour he would get out of bed and go to the bathroom again.  I found the entire procedure very disturbing. I asked Mommy why he was doing it and she said it was because they were going to stick something up his rectum and I thought “wrecked him it will probably kill him.”  (Bazinga.)

That is my pee report for the week.   Happy sniffing everyone.