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
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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.

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.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

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

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.  

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.

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.