Nearly Wordless Wednesday

 

River watches the Brussels Griffon at Westminster

Foley teaches River about Adventures

I feel an obligation to go on an adventure. Foley always had entertaining adventures.  She led an invasion of the Princess’ castle. saved a lost kitty from some wild cats, rescued a skunk from a snowbank, met the President after catfully profiling a kitty, went to rehab after interrupting her friend’s speech during the Pet Video Awards.  

I had assumed that the hijinks would be taken over by Pocket.  She once floated away in a balloon but she said that’s because Foley built it.  I don’t want to be building no balloons.  But we do have an audience and I feel it is my responsibility to provide adventures for our many readers.

I do think in my six months of blogging that I have provided some entertainment with my leaping over gates, my howling, my dabbling in drug use, my wayward youth as a single Mom, my visiting my baby Daddy, but none of the grand adventures Foley Monster had.

So I knew what I had to do.  I made a dream request to meet with the Judge herself.  Soon after falling asleep I was floating amongst the clouds looking down at everything, and then I saw her, sitting behind her bench, and she motioned for me to take a seat at the witness stand.

She told me that I had to keep abreast of current events.  “Look at this Justin Beiber kid” she said.  “If I was on your side of the River of Life I would have written a blog about how I challenged that punk kid to a drag race and drove away when he got pulled over.  And the Olympics are going on.  Four years ago Pocket and I raced in the bobsled, you two could compete in an new Olympic event.”

My frown became frownier.  “Do you expect our readers to believe that a Griffon who can’t see over the dashboard or reach the pedals could drag race Justin Beiber or that two toy breeds could compete in the Olympics?”

“They believe that you are having dream meeting with a Yorkie who passed away eight months ago and is now a Judge at Rainbow Bridge, they are starved for entertainment.  They will believe anything.”

And then I woke up.  And I knew my mission.  I need to start sniffing out a grand adventure that would make Foley proud.  Anybody got an address for this Beiber kid?

Meika is our February 9, 2014 Pup of the Week

On Monday a messenger pigeon flew in my window and told me I was needed for another swearing in.  With a sigh I put down my book, grabbed my robes, dressed myself with the help of my chipmunk assistants and went to my spot at the top of the stairs leading from the Bridge.

The swearing in ceremony is dignified and proper.  I have been told not to go down the stairs when I saw a friend.  “Don’t run down the stairs!  Don’t run down the stairs!”  they yelled.  When I saw the beautiful black dog with the white muzzle I forgot all protocol.  I ran down the stairs.

It was Meika.  My sister from another litter.  My confidant.  My special advisor.  Every day when we were on the mortal side of the Bridge, after Meika, her brother Reese, and her Dad Jeff, left the Dog Channel site under circumstances that mirrored Pocket and my leaving the original DS, and came to the new DS, we barked at one another every day.  We bonded over our hatred of cold and wet weather, our devotion to our parents, and mostly the daily struggle of living with a totally unprofessional younger sibling.

When I passed to this side of the Bridge Meika and her family were so supportive to my Mom, Dad and Pocket.  I don’t know if they would have made it without y Meika’s family constantly checking on them and lifting them up.  But this was normal for Meika and Reese.  They took it on as their duty to help parents in their most painful days and did so with the utmost respect.  Meika once told me they tried to be supportive, posting blogs and pictures of the departed, but didn’t want to pry, or be a bother, to those in mourning.

When I thought of Meika saying that I stopped running.  Not because I remembered my decorum or cared about the dignity of my office.  I got hit by a rogue wave of grief as I felt the incredible hurt and sorrow emanating across the Bridge from Reese, Daddy Jeff and Uncle Ron.

And then I remembered what I saw when I was checked in the River of Life that morning.  Pocket answering a blog from Meika, which she started doing when I went to the Bridge, and they discussed the same things that Meika and I did, including how annoying a younger sibling is (now River.)

By the time Meika had reached me we tried to hug, but she is much taller than me and I just ended up rubbing her belly, but the sentiment was there.  Then we walked up the stairs together, and Meika was welcomed to her new forever home, on the immortal side of life.

But I kept thinking of Pocket.  She always signed off her blogs with Meika, “looking forward to your next bark.”  Except that next bark won’t be coming.  I know, Reese, Jeff, and Uncle Ron are waiting for that next bark too.  A bark is so precious.

I appointed Meika to my council, where she will act as my paw, and we will talk about all those things we used to complain about, and wonder what we were ever complaining about.

And we will wait for our friends, and parents to arrive, so they can hear our next bark.

A Pocket of Snow

The big question this winter is how many Pocket fulls of snow do we get with each storm.

Daddy does not trust meteorologists.  He says that they predict how much snow is going to fall. and, inevitably, that amount is wrong.  But when he puts the TV on the meteorologists are congratulating themselves on getting the snowfall amounts exactly right.

This is the type of thing that bothers Daddy a great deal and no one else any deal.  He  found out that they measure snow on what is called a snowboard.  They put the board down, and then every hour they go out and measure the snow, then wipe it off, and measure it again an hour later, until it stops snowing or Shawn White steals the board and breaks his wrist.

So the totals represent what fell, but not what is actually on the ground, which has either been compacted by more snow, or melted on contact.  I found the entire thing extremely boring until I heard Daddy say he invented a new way to measure snow.

First he went outside and shoveled a hole in the snow.  Then he came back inside. got me and put me in the hole, then turned and yelled to Mommy:  “We got a half a Pocket of snow.”  A couple of days later we got more snow.  Daddy went outside, dug a bigger hole, put me in, and yelled to Mommy “We got two and a half Pockets of snow.”

I have been reduced to a unit of measurement.

.

Where will this foolishness end?  Is your GPS going to tell you that the nearest Home Depot is 1,376 Pockets away?  Are they going to announce a David Ortiz home run traveled 687 Pockets?  Is a trip to Jupiter going to be described as 8,760 light Pockets away?   

They are talking about more snow for this weekend, I don’t know how many Pockets we are going to get.  I hope it’s a short storm.  I hate having to go outside for multiple Pocket measurements

In the meanwhile you and your parents should consider your own Pockets.  Are you getting the right Pockets of kibble?  Do you parents earn enough Pockets?  It is time to demand more Pockets.

Or, when it comes to winter, less..

Wordless Wednesday

Thank You For Helping Make My Mom Smile By Foley Monster

I have been truly blessed with so many great friends,  both here on the immortal side of the River of Life, and, where many of you are reading this, on the mortal side, although I seldom single any out publicly because you all deserve your own special blog for your kindness towards me and if I can’t do them all, I don’t want to do just one.

But I do have to mention one dog, my brother from another litter, my bestest friend on either side of the Bridge, my loyal brother Leo.  No matter where I have been, or what trouble I may have caused, Leo has always stood by me and never wanted anything more than friendship.

During my visits with my Mom in her dreams, she told me how sad she was without me, despite the very valiant efforts of Pocket and River.  The worst part was, upon waking, Mommy forgot our talks.  The vague bit of memory she had only made her sadder.  She needed something to lift her spirits.

I knew just the thing, a necklace from Blue Laamb Designs that Mommy could wear near her heart and would remind her of me everyday.  The problem was dogs don’t need money on your side of the River and have less of a need for it on my side, so I needed to find someone with money

I popped into Leo’s dreams and told him of my dilemma and as always he said he could solve my problem.  The next day he told his Mom what I wanted to do and she said that she would contact the Laambies Mom to get the necklace and send her the money to cover the costs.

The Laambies Mom sent my Mommy the perfect necklace, with an angel wing, a pup, and a paw prints stamped heart.  The card said simply “From Foley.”  Oh Mommy was so happy.  She cried when she saw it, very happy tears, and she put it on, and has worn it every day since.

I was so proud, but there was a tugging at my conscious.  While I had set this plan in motion I needed to share the gratitude.  So I went back down to Leo and asked him to check with his Mom to see if she would agree to get the credit she richly deserved.  At first she refused, saying that the gift was really from me, but I kept bothering Leo, and he kept nagging his Mom, until she finally relented, which made me very happy, because now she can be recognized for being the wonderful person that she is (which we all knew anyway.)

So now I would like to publicly thank Leo, his Mom Eileen, the Laambies and thier Mom, Patricia Patterson, for helping me bring an everyday smile to my Mom’s face and for designing this wonderful necklace.

Thank you all

Rocco is our February 2, 2014 Pup of the Week

During all my time at Rainbow Bridge I never saw anything like it.  Every Bridge Angel sat on the hills overlooking the River of Life, facing the platform where I waited in my robes to swear in our newest member.  The Scotties lined up on the stairway leading from the Bridge to me, softly playing bagpipes while behind me the Springer Spaniels kept up a steady drum roll.  Every dog who had ever worn a uniform, in the army or for the police, surrounded the platform, all in their dress blues.

That’s when I saw the angel of the hour, Rocco, whose arrival had brought more majesty to the Bridge than I had ever seen.

On  the mortal side of the Bridge Rocco worked for the Pittsburgh police department as a K-9 officer.  The eight year old German Shepherd was very respected by his human peers.  On Tuesday night Officer Rocco was on duty when a bad 21 year old human named John Rush escaped from the custody of an Allegheny County’s sheriff official who was trying to place him under arrest.

The man was  found hiding in a nearby basement.   When police tried to arrest him he lunged at them with a pocket knife.  A human officer received a minor injury during the fight but Rocco, protecting the humans, was injured far worse.

Rocco was rushed by his comrades to the Pittsburgh Specialty Emergency Center.  He underwent two surgeries and several blood transfusions.  But, after two days of fighting, Rocco agreed it was time to depart the mortal world, leaving heart broken fellow officers, a saddened city, and many souls who had prayed for him.

As Rocco climbed the stairs to the sound of the bagpipes playing and the spaniels’ drumming all the angels rose to attention while the service dogs stood on their back legs, and put their paws to their foreheads in salute.  As Rocco got closer I realized his would be the most important swearing in I had ever done and said a little prayer that I wouldn’t mess it up.

When Rocco reached the top of the stairs he put one paw on the Bible and then one on my paw, and, being the gentleman he was on the mortal side, he told me that it was going to be all right, and I swore him in.

Then all the pups arose and began to cheer for him, recognizing him as much of a hero on our side of the Bridge as he was on yours.  

And he has been given a position right on the Bridge, protecting us Angels as he protected you humans.  

I will sleep better tonight, but I will feel for the people of Pittsburgh, who won’t rest well, knowing that Rocco is no longer on the beat.