Hans is Foley Monster's July 14, 2013 Pup of the Week

I am finding that being here at the Bridge is a little like being on the Twilight Zone.  

One night, when I was on the Earthly side, I had all my friends over to my Leopard Skin Vagina Kitty Condo and we watched an episode where Jack Klugman was a pool shark who wanted to be the greatest of all time and ended up beating a ghost who had been considered the greatest, and now Jack Klugman was.  But, for the rest of eternity, whenever a bell rang, a weary Jack Klugman had to get up and answer the challenge of being the greatest of all time.

Here at the Bridge, when a bell sounds, I have to wearily put on my robe and make my way to the top of the Bridge Stairs to see which one of my friends had broken their families’ hearts by having their time on Earth expire. My joy at seeing my friends is fractured by the pain I know their families are feeling.

Lately, having had so many friends join me, I am growing reluctant to look down the Bridge.  On this day  I saw Hans slowly making his way up the stairs.  Like Atlas, Fella, and all dogs who come here, with each step he grew healthier and stronger, and with each gaze at the beauty surrounding the Bridge I could see the pain of leaving his family ease, and the good memories grow stronger.

But beyond the Bridge I can feel the sadness from his family and friends.  It blows my tiny robes like the wind and the cries sound like the birds that fly overhead.  I don’t know if every dog can hear or if it just fades to the background over time, but it’s there.

The doctors had told his Mom that he would have to go to the Bridge on July 5.  But Hans put up such a fight, eating, wagging his stub, and not letting any sign of pain show, that she decided to take it day by precious day and enjoy every extra moment they had with him.

Hans was such a fighter.  I fought to give my parents one more day with me, Hans fought to give his parents almost a week.  He used every ounce of life he had in his soul to stay with his Mom.  Has was suffering from an infection and pancreatitis.  

He spent most of the day lying on cool tile, but he would occasionally get up to give a tail wag and eat some food.    

But he wasn’t suffering, his family would not let him suffer, he was enjoying life, like an aged human who is confined to a hospital bed, knowing the end is nigh, but surrounded by family, keen enough to share stories, love and laugh.  And, like the humans surrounding the hospital bed, Hans’ family knew that every day, hour, minute, was a blessing.  And they all basked in the love of everyone on DS and Facebook.  His family said: ”I want everyone to remember the crazy dog who dressed up for every holiday with turkey legs on his head, sunglasses and top hats and we hope made everyone smile.”  A dog who wanted, even while passing to the Bridge, everyone to keep smiling.  Now that sounds like a special dog.

Like so many of us dogs Hans’ heart gave out before his soul.  He began bleeding a great deal and suffering which his Mom could not have.  She began the process of sending Hans to the Bridge, and at that moment my bell rang, calling me to the top of the stairs.  When Hans reached my post the first thing he said to me, knowing my blogs reach the human world, was “make sure they pray for my family,” and I assured him I will.  

He is happy now, pain free, his body, after dealing with two different cancers, is young and functioning fine.  His days are mostly filled with fun, although I have asked him to advise me on some important Bridge matters.  He asks you all not to feel sorrow for him, the Bridge is really just on the other side of the wall from Earth, sadly, a wall with no entry.

And he wants his family to know that someday, simultaneously much too soon and too far away, everyone will be together again, and truly happy.

A River Runs Through My Life by Pocket

I think it is true of any pup who loses a sibling to the Bridge:  They have to go through a period of adjustment.  Mommy and Daddy were just busted after Foley left and it was up to me, with Foley’s coaching, to help them.  I am a modest, little dog but I do think I did a decent job.  I never made demands, I didn’t complain, I became the best me I could be.

Foley told me she was interviewing for position of second dog but I assured her that it wasn’t necessary, the three of us were faring well, and had settled into a normal, functioning, if unexciting life.

Then one afternoon, while Mommy was out, Daddy working, and I was relaxing in my crate, I heard water rushing, then the ground shook, the dam gave way, and a River burst through the door and has been running through my life ever since.

I figured Foley would have sense enough to get another Yorkie, something smaller than me that I could intimidate with my five pounds and slowly mold into the dog I wanted her to be, like Foley did to me, but instead I got this thing nearly twice my weight, who was all legs and teats, thought she was more experienced than me because she had a litter, and could jump from the floor to the stars.

The first day all she did was explore and snore.  I invited her into the bed, telling her that anything from the chest up was hers, anything from there downwards mine, and she respected that, for at least the first few nights, but then she started using those long legs to push me down the bed and next thing I knew I was sleeping by the dreaded feet.

In the morning when Daddy threw my ball to begin our morning game guess who went galloping after it and took it from me?  Then she didn’t drop it by Daddy to be thrown again.  She jumped up on the couch and degraded my ball by licking it.  Daddy took it from her and threw it again and she out galloped me again.  But, and don’t tell River this, the more the ball was thrown the more I like her retrieving it, since carrying it in my mouth was my least favorite part of ball.

We have had a few tussles but I have come out the victor, keeping her in line like Foley said I should.   I have let her have Mommy’s lap, since I prefer the seat next to her with my butt up against the heated vibrating part of the chair (hey, River got to make whoopee with a stud and have a baby, I should get this.  Don’t judge me!)

And River is going to have to go to training classes, something I never had to do, even if Foley says if I was doing a better job of training her River wouldn’t need classes.  I think the classes are for human anyway and Foley was responsible for training them.

I think we are going to be fine as a family, and I don’t worry about it raining anymore.  We must live upstream because all I hear all day long is “Down River.”

Wordless Wednesday

Ovaries? What are the good for? By River Song

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Atlas is Foley's July 7, 2013 Pup of the Week

This Rainbow Bridge place is kind of bittersweet.  When I get paged for a swearing in ceremony I know I am going to be happy to see an old friend, but also sad for the family they are leaving behind.  

This week, as I stood on my platform at the top of the stairs in my little black robe I looked down the Bridge and saw my wonderful friend Atlas slowly climbing the stairs, and with each step I saw him shedding the pain from the cancer that had ended his life on the Earthly realm and grow younger before my eyes.  Also with each step I saw him stop and look back, towards the wooden Bridge over looking the deep, smoothly flowing blue river with the silver fish softly leaping to and fro, towards the willow tree where the squirrels and bunnies hop and climb, and up towards the endless blue sky where the eagles soar.  I know he was admiring the beauty, but also thinking, as all us new members do, of the wonderful, loving family he was leaving behind.

Atlas and I arrived at the Bridge in similar circumstances. We both hid how much pain we were in from our families, we both had cancer, and we both had the number of heartbeats we were assigned run out before all the promises we had made could be kept.

Our parents did not have much warning that our songs were ending.  The first sign for me was an innocent cough, the first sign for Atlas was a nosebleed.  Mine led to an x-ray that showed a mass in my lungs, Atlas’ x-ray showed a mass on his pancreas.  While there was no chance of an operation for me the doctors did try to remove Atlas’ spleen but when they opened him up they found that his cancer had spread to vital organs and there was nothing his family could do. A short time later I saw him on the stairs to the Bridge as his family was left behind to wonder how they could live brokenhearted.

To all dogs Atlas, along with Presley and his brother Angel Taggert, was one of the first dogs:  One of the first to befriend them, one of the first to comfort them if they were sick or a loved one had passed to the Bridge, one of the first to rally others to their friends’ cause.  Atlas, like I tried to, made the lives of every dog easier just by being their friend, and made their lives more enjoyable.

Atlas was also a dog that was known all over the Internet, on Doggyspace, Tanner Brigade, Facebook, and other sites, and everyone mourned his passing.  I thought that, when he reached the top of the Stairs, he should be given a special award, named after a dog who was already at the Bridge and also was known throughout the Internet, so I have awarded him the Special Order of Sierra, to recognize him as a dog known throughout the world, in tribute to Sierra, another dog who was truly known across the world.

For the many loved ones of Atlas still on the Earthly realm, and his family, he wants you to know he needs no prayers, nor for anyone to feel bad for him.  He wants you to concentrate on his wonderful family, who miss their special boy, and helped create an award winning dog.

So here is to you Atlas, loved on Earth forever, loved, and recognized at the Bridge forever.  You are a once in a lifetime dog.

A Late K9 Kamp Blog: Every Walk is Making a Memory by Pocket

I am sorry, my friends, that I am so late with my K9 Kamp blog but life got in the way of Kamp this year.  First, my beloved sister and mentor Foley went to the Bridge, and then my new sister, River Song arrived, and I had to train her.

During this time I learned something important about K9 Kamp, and walking.  It is not only good for our health, and a great bonding experience between pet and parent, but each walk is the chance to make a new memory, and when our time comes all we are left with are memories.

Before Mommy and Daddy lived at the village of the Pruned they lived across the street in a non Pruned village.  They used to bring their first dog, Blake here to walk.  When they moved across the street from the state mental institution they would still come here to walk occasionally so Foley walked on the streets I walk now when she was just a pup.

When we pass the entrance I see the ramp that leads to the mail room.  I pooped on that ramp the first day we moved in.  Then Daddy stepped on it.  He was so mad at me.  Foley thought it was funny.  

Behind the mailroom is a little drainage ditch.  Before we moved in here, when Foley was just about my age, Mommy had told Daddy to drop the poop bag in the ditch.  The next day when Daddy was walking Foley here a grumpy man who worked here told Daddy if he kept walking Foley here he would call the police on him.  Daddy got very upset.  Foley stuck out her tongue and went phfffttt..

Next to the ditch is a tree that Foley and I stood under and got our picture taken, with both of our tongues out, and big smiles on our face.  That was a really good walk that day.  I don’t pass that tree without thinking of Foley and the big smile on her face.

Around the tree is the grass area that we used to romp in.  Both of us would jump up and down in the high grass like two little bunnies.  Oh how we loved the high grass.  And every once in awhile we would see a squirrel and take off after that thing like nobody’s business.

Across the street is where the Bichon Friese lives and man did Foley and I bark at that dog.  It was all in good fun but our parents were always sure we would be fighting.  Around the corner from that is the community center with the handicapped ramp that I would hop up on and get myself tangled in before Foley taught me how to walk straight.  Across the street from that is the manager’s house who let us move in with two dogs when only one was allowed.  I thanked him by pooping in the middle of the driveway.  Next door to him was another dog who would sit in the window and bark at us each time we went by.  We gave it right back to him too.  I still do.  Up the road is where we met the wild, loose Yorkie, Orkie, and had to march him around the village to find his owners.  Across the street from that spot are the two homes of the people who would complain about Foley pooping in their front yard, and whose yard Foley would alway insist in pooping in once she learned of their complaint, adding a little butt wiggle to her pooping to add a spice of triumph to her rebellion.  Up the street from them is Mrs McAloon who, before we moved in here, told Daddy that Foley could walk here anytime because Foley was her guest.  A few doors down from her is the old man who rides his bike around the village and always told Foley, as she barked, that it was all right, it was only him.  Around the bend from her is where the Shih Tzu lives who was always loose and scared us when she ran across the street with traffic coming.  And there were houses where we were sure we saw Tanner Bub and Blazer.  And there was the Collie who would walk past us, very well trained, who sat next to her owner while we barked, embarrassing Daddy.

There are a million more memories I could list but Foley taught me that sometimes you need to find the end of your blog.  But next time your pup wants to walk and you don’t remember, it’s not just good for your physical body, but for your soul too, because our souls are made of millions of memories.

Wordless Wednesday