Beat This Caption

I told you I was wearing this! Why did you wear the same thing! I am so embarrassed. Just stand here and hope no one notices

Monday Queston

What are your feelings about snow or the cold?

Pocket:  I don't like snow but I don't mind the cold.  I still go for a late night poop on the coldest nights.  I poop faster on those nights but I still walk.


River Song:  I want nothing to do with any of it.  I won't do my business outside unless there is grass.  Wake me when spring comes

Ginger Lynn is our January 7, 2018

Recently I have been hijacking my parents Facebook account and visiting the Rainbow Bridge Dogs group.  There are multiple posts daily from parents who have just lost their pups and are grieving with every fiber of their souls.  I tell the parents that I met their babies at the Bridge, and they are young and healthy again, they will visit their broken-hearted parents as flying birds or butterflies, the parents will see their pups in their dreams, and sometimes, just out of the corner of their eye.

Occasionally a post contained so much sorrow I become worried about the author, such as the words written by Daddy Roc, who lost his beloved Ginger Lynn to cancer suddenly in November.

I met, and swore in, Ginger on the day she crossed.  I was enamored with her the first time I laid eyes on her.  A lovely girl.  Of course, she is a Yorkie.  There is something so special about that breed.  She was like looking in a mirror.

Immediately she told me about concerns regarding her Dad.  I assured her that his journey through grief’s road would be horrific, but he was strong, and he would surely come out on the other side whole.

Six weeks later Ginger and I were sitting on the river bank watching the water and worrying about her Dad.  He comes on the Rainbow Bridge page every day and leaves a message for his sweet girl.  There is still an overabundance of sorrow conveyed in his writings.  Ginger is frustrated she can’t answer assure him she is here.  I admitted that I could.  She climbed all over me, licking and pawing at me.  I am a little off put by the affection, but I understood.

So, if I may, I would like to address myself to Daddy Roc.  I  know you miss Ginger Lynn.  I have been friends with her for only six weeks, and I would long for her if she left me.  Please understand she is not gone.  She is somewhere that you can’t access.  I know, that is as bad as being gone, but know in your heart that she still exists, sharply barking, wagging her little tail, softly licking, looking at her friends with eyes that appear to be peering into your very soul, and making everyone smile.  It is hard to believe but how would I know all these details about her if I hadn’t just seen her and touched her soft hair?

Once you have accepted that Ginger still exists your mind will open to the possibility of her returning, just not in a form you recognize.  The only creatures who can fly between the mortal and immortal lands are those born with wings.  Sometimes we angels convince our flying friends to borrow their bodies and visit our parents, as birds butterflies, or other agreeable souls.

Someday soon I hope you see a winged creature who shouldn’t be there, or when spring a butterfly who is lingering with you, and you think that it might be Ginger.  When that day comes, you will progress to believing it could be her, and then finally accepting it is her.  When my parents see a butterfly in their yard, they say “Hi Foley.”  The neighbors used to think it was strange but now they say “Hi Foley,” too.
The same holds true for unexplained bumps in the night or something you see out of the corner of your eye.  Ginger is striving hard to make herself known to you.  But you have to believe first.  

And she will be visiting you in your dreams.  If you awaken with your heart feeling light know Ginger was there.

She also has an assignment.  You need to keep going forward, not because it is easy, but because it is difficult and painful.  You are still in the early stages of your journey through grief.  Ginger needs you to keep going forward for her, to take care of her children and siblings, until you finish your journey.  In the end, you will find a dog you love almost as much as you love Ginger.  You and that dog will rebuild your heart.
Ginger wants you, and all grieving parents, to open their hearts, their minds and to believe.  

Endings are so terribly sad, but beginnings are joyful.  We hope you are close to the beginning than the end.




And most of all Ginger wants you to know she loves you very much.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Happy New Year

At Rainbow Bridge, we don’t recognize the New Year.  When you are living for eternity marking days serves no purpose.  But we do like to have a celebration when our humans do, and we have a feast to give thanks for the friends and family who did not join us the in the immortal word the previous year.

We all toasted Angel Apollo, the most famous angel dog rescuer at the Bridge,  His mom helps him rescue hundreds of dogs, and they both work on finding the perfect homes for the pups.  This week not only did Apollo and his mom find a home for one of her rescues, Barry, but when Barry’s new parents saw how close their new dog was with fellow rescue Maurice, who had been deemed unadoptable because Maurice does not like being touched or receive attention, and how upset he was to see Barry going, they rescued him too.  Maurice was one of the most unlikely dog rescues of the year, and we howled at Apollo in appreciation.

Pintus lead us in our New Year’s Resolutions which all had to do with spending more time with our parents.  It can be discouraging because our parents don’t know we are there but we do think that at some level they can tell.  Pintus then passed around some special tequila, and we all toasted him, did a shot, and gave thanks that we were immortal and did not have to worry about our livers.  

Misha announced that the only way to fight off the dulling effect from a shot of tequila was to run through the hills.  She jumped down and ran, followed by others, some of whom underestimated the power of tequila and ran straight into the trees.  I went over and sat next to Morgan the Miracle Maltese who had spent an exhausting week making sure the tumor found on his brother Jackson was benign.  He was successful in his effort, and we took a drink to give thanks.

There were big plates of chicken and mashed potatoes passed around.  I took my share and passed them on.  Then I got hit in the forehead with a spoonful of mashed potatoes.  I looked up to see Otie Campbell laughing at me.  I threw potatoes back and him, and suddenly a fun filled food fight broke out.  The great thing about dog food fights is that we don’t waste the food.  We are dogs:  We don’t mind eating the food off the ground or even off one another.

When the bell in the big church clanged midnight, we all cheered, and Pepsi and I shared a quick kiss before she went dancing with her mom.

I looked over the Bridge and saw it was clear of traffic and said a prayer that it would stay that way for a long time.

That is the Angel’s prayers.  The answer has never come back in the affirmative but we Angels have lots of time to pray so we will continue to repeat no matter how futile.



To you mortal, I wish a happy, safe and Bridge free New Year

Pocket and the Secret Words

It is time for New Year’s resolutions, some of which I endeavor to keep before the final sunsets on 2018.

I am resolving to make my parent's life easier.  While on my walks, or looking out my back window, I bark at any person, dog, or cat I see, and sometimes I bark just to hear to my own melodious tone.  I do not vow to cease my barking, but I am willing to cooperate with my parents’ wishes that the noise is quieted.

Every dog has certain words that, when heard, immediately makes them stop barking.
Unfortunately, all the words that make me stop barking are racist.  When we are on walks, and my Dad is afraid my barking will cause the neighbors to complain, he will scan his surroundings to confirm there is no one within earshot and softly say one of the magic racist terms to stop my vocal expression.


Inevitably there will be someone behind a house who hears my Dad imploring me to stop barking via the secret word and that person will amble over to him and say “what did you call me?”  Daddy will explain to the stranger that he was trying to make us stop barking.  The person will look down at us and say “They don’t seem to be barking.”  That is when we have to save him from a certain beating by using our awesome power of cuteness.

But some people are not persuaded even by cuteness.  So we had to change our ways.  We have developed not just new words, but phrases that will make us not only stop barking but faithfully heal.  And I am going to let you know these phrases in case you would like to use them too.  They are:  

“Attention citizens:  I am here to announce that I am a registered sex-offender.”

“I just took a big poopy in my pants, and I don’t care.”

And: “I’m a lumberjack, and I’m OK.  I sleep all night and work all day.  I like to dress up in ladies’ clothing and hang around in bars!”

With such a wide array of phrases, I am sure my Dad will keep us quiet on our walks, and my resolution will be successful.

If not it is his fault.

Wordless Wednesday

Weekly Question

What is your New Year's Resolution?
Pocket:  For the tenth year my New Year's Resolution is not to pee in the house.  One of these years it has to stick.
River:  While I plan to be happier than ever this year I am going to try to hide it better.  No more of me always looking like I am overjoyed, like this for example.  I don't want to embarrass myself.