The dog in the window by River Song

I have become the happy face in the window.

It has been a long time since there was a happy face in the window at my parents house.  When they lived in their condo, and their son was living in Florida, Foley was let roam the house freely.  But then the son moved back home, and my parents never trusted him with complicated duties, like closing the front door, so Foley was put on her blanket in the bedroom.

When they moved to their new home here at the village of the pruned Foley was left in the bedroom when my parents went out, happily curled up on her red blanket. Pocket stayed in her crate, the same one she uses today.

After I gained my parole my parents thought I would do more damage if I was put behind a closed bedroom door.  So I was given run of the entire house (honestly, with four rooms, two baths,and laundry room it is more of a jaunt than a run).

While I gained the joy of freedom, my parents gained something of equal value.  They gained the face in the window.

Any parent with dogs in the house know that look.  They return home being drained of whatever dramas travelling beyond the boundries of our yard causes.  They hear a bark, look up, and see a big, smiling face.  No dog or person has ever looked happier to see someone.  Each time a dog sees their parent return home they look happier than the last time.

I have to work harder the dogs who merely stand in the window.  I need to stand on my back two legs with my paws on the sill.  When they, on their return, see my smiling face, and make eye contact, I begin to bark.  First I bark looking at them, then my head goes back and I bark towards the moon that my parents are home.

I move to the door where I jump up to the window while they fumble their keys and finally get inside to scratch my head and say hello.  It is almost worth them leaving.

Then they let a barking Pocket out of the crate and things go downhill.

I am still a rookie at being the dog in the window. If you have any suggestions please let me know.

Wordless Wednesday

Pup of the Week: Dot

The Big Guy knocked down our wall again.  

We don’t know if we have the strength to rebuild it.

Odie came, and we fortified; Leo arrived, and we built it higher; Paco appeared, and we built a moat around the wall; Dirty Harry landed, and we fortified more.

When Dot came, we realized that maybe walls aren’t always the answer.

We thought the wall was working for Dot.  She was a senior dog who battled cancer.  And she kicked ass.  When we questioned if building the wall was worth it someone mentioned Dot, and we nodded.  It is working for Dot.  She is spending time with Mama Michelle.  

Cancer is evil.  It sits back and patiently waits. Often, as it lurks, the doctors can get it and chase it away forever.  And sometimes they can’t.

Dot fought very hard to keep cancer in check.  She loved her mom, maybe even more than her mom loved her.  That kind of love is hard to measure.  No one has invented something that can measure that much love.  If love were enough, we would live forever.

But love isn’t enough.

When cancer lies dormant emotions abate.  We think Dot is all right, so our prayers wane, our worries abate.   That is what cancer waits for, that moment when we start to believe.

Then it strikes.

It struck Dot this weekend.  Her cancer moved into her throat.  Swallowing became too painful.  If we can’t swallow, we can’t eat.  And if we can’t eat, well, there isn’t a wall strong enough to keep you from the Rainbow Bridge if you can’t eat.

In the span of a day, Dot went from holding cancer in check to the Bridge leaving her poor mom Michelle devastated.  Her little, constant, faithful, companion of a decade and a half would no longer be by her side.

At least in physical form.

If the wall doesn’t work, we have learned to find another way.  Thanks to Leo finding the path back to our parents we have honed our skills.  Dot arrived, was welcomed,counseled hugged, licked, listened to, and when she was ready, she was fitted for her wings and Leo was leading her back to Mama Michelle.

I saw wish you knew she was there Mama Michelle, but she is, especially when you are at your lowest.  She wishes she could snatch the pain away.  Pain is cancer’s cousin.  It lies in wait and the latches on to you when you are the most vulnerable.

We are going to have a meeting about rebuilding the wall.  Maybe we will think of something new.  

Our goal is to try to take just a touch of mourning all parents feel when their babies go their final home.

We will never stop trying, Moms and Dads, we promise.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: My Minions

Occasionally you may have heard me mention my minions.  After being appointed a Judge at Rainbow Bridge, I was given several minions to do the grunt work that neither my angel staff or I have the time to perform.

Recently the First Lady gave a speech where she described her house as being “built by slaves.”  As a civilized society we know having indentured servants do their owner’s bidding, for no pay, and not being allowed to stop working, is abhorrent.

But what of my minions.  Am I as guilty as slave owners?

I think it is important to understand how minions are created.  Anyone who mistreats people breaks the law and hurts others, become minions to human angels.  Anyone who abuses and mistreats dogs or other animals become minions to dog angels.  

And that is how I got my minions.  On the mortal side, they treated animals heartlessly and cruelly and when they reach their immortal side they are left to the whims of us dog angels.

I hope I am nice to my minions.  They are very small, smaller than even me.  They are very attentive to my needs.  So attentive I have to wonder what is the fate of those evil humans who refuse to be minions.

One day I took them all down to the River to set them free.  I put them all on the ground and told them to run free.  I turned and began walking home.  I stopped and looked at me.  My minions were following me, all in a row.  I couldn’t shake them.  When I got home, I felt like I should ask my mom if I could keep them.

I do my best to keep my minions happy and well fed.  And when I feel guilty about having them I remember what they did when they were mortal.

For every dog abused by a human, be patient.  Someday they will be your minion, and then you can determine how they should be treated.

What River Song Really Does When She is Home Alone by Pocket

Oh, let us rejoice in River Song being released from her crate, and being allowed to roam free, while my parents are out.

Her only requirement is to be a good girl while my parents are gone.  Apparently not peeing or pooping on the floor, chewing furniture, or standing on tables equals being a good girl, as well as being the only qualifications you need to win the Republican Presidential Nomination.

If my parents really knew what was happening in their absence River would be back in her crate with no chance of parole.

I prefer to be safely in my crate, which contains my triangular kitty condo, where I can relax in peace when left alone.  With River on the loose, relaxation is elusive.

When left alone River is not sitting by the door patiently waiting for my parents.  She is constantly watching Game of Thrones.  She watches the first episode, then starts another, gets confused, and watches the first one again.  I have seen that show 12 times.  It’s driving me crazy.

When she is tired of watching television, she puts on her Irish dance music and begins dancing in front of my crate.  I bark at her that “River Dance” does not mean her dance.  But she keeps sliding and leaping around to the world’s most grating music.

Then there is her meditation and yoga sessions.  She spends lots of time in her downward facing human position chanting:  “Arf, arf, arf, arf.”  It is so annoying!

My Mom usually leaves her I Pad home.  River sits and it and takes selfies.  I don’t know why.  I think she is giving herself a rectal exam.

I know if my mom reads this blog River be put back in her crate but at least I will get some peace and quiet and I can get caught up on Downton Abbey.

Wordless Wednesday

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