Monday Question

How would you best describe the way you bark?

Pocket:  I have a high pitched bark that comes in several small, loud yips that can hit you like a knife being jabbed into your skull.  At least that's what Mommy says.


River:  I lay down a basic track of one long growl, and from that, I form an "O" with my mouth and let a quick, short, bark.

Hero Dogs Roddy, Nico and Asha are our October 7, 2018 Pup of the Week

It was a quiet week here, friend wise.  For the first time in months, I did not have to swear a friend in as an angel.  I have enjoyed the pleasant break.  But I still had to Christian, an angel.

Roddy is a beautiful black and brown dog who lived with his 84-year-old mom in Hlobane Farms, South Africa.  Two weeks ago the mom was cooking guava outside her kitchen when she heard Roddy bark.  Three teenage boys appeared with guns demanding cash and a cell phone.  The woman told them she had neither. Then Roddy appeared, eager to protect his mom.  He chased the boys, one of whom fired a gun, sending beautiful Roddy to the Bridge.
Roddy flew back to the mortal side to spend time with his traumatized mom.  He will be there until she is ready to depart and continue to try and protect her from the bad men in the world.  

Hopefully, my friend, Nico won’t be arriving at the Bridge anytime soon, but she is going to need prayers.  The 11-year-old pit bull was going on a pleasant walk with his 12-year-old skin brother and 11-year-old sister.  They were crossing the street when a man, late for work, whipped around a car and sped through a stop sign, driving towards the trio.

Nico got down on her haunches to protect the children.  The careless driver heard Nico barking and swerved missing the kids but hitting Nico, causing internal bleeding and breaking her pelvis.  The driver stopped down the road, to pick up a co-worker, who refused to continue onward unless the man took responsibility for his actions.  Surprisingly, the driver was not charged, but everyone agreed Nico was a hero.

Nico was rushed to the vet.  She needs to be kept quiet so the pelvis will heal, and requires future lung surgery to keep her from the Bridge.  We need prayers for her to recover and for the police to realize a dog struck by an irresponsible driver life matters as much as a human, and the driver should be punished.

Finally, in a story that we could all use during another maddening week,  I present Asha, a five-year-old golden retriever from Australia.  Asha was minding her own business when a joey koala scampered from the woods on a cold night.  The koala climbed up on the porch and looked at Asha. The goldie nodded, and the joey climbed on Asha’s back then snuggled into her fur.  The koala survived the night thanks to Asha sharing her body heat.
The next morning Asha’s parents awoke to this sight on their porch.  

Australians were used to different animals appearing on their property, but a koala sleeping on their dog was a new one.  Asha’s mom burst out laughing when she saw the duo.

The joey put up quite a fight when it was lifted from Asha.   The koala was turned over to a care facility, and when it is ready, it will be released into the wild.




Where I am sure, it will find Asha again because a good snuggle buddy is hard to find.

Foley Travels Back to the 50's to Find She Was Born at the Right Time

Despite humans’ assumptions that dogs watch TV, we ignore the annoying blather coming from the television.  When our parents find us staring at the screen they believe we are paying attention. Actually, we are trying to decipher what about the talking picture box so occupies our parents’ time.


There was one show that caught my fancy.  I was enraptured by the time-traveling adventures chronicled on Doctor Who.  I would love to time travel. Even after I crossed the Bridge, it was a secret fantasy of mine.

Yesterday morning I awoke to a whoorp, whoorp sound.  I opened my eyes to see a blue police box at the end of my bed.  I crawled from under the covers and saw that the blue box’s door was ajar.  I trotted to the edge and opened the door to see a vast room.
The blue box was the Tardis, the time machine the Doctor uses to travel.  I walked inside the room, impressed that the machine truly was bigger on the inside.  I yelled for the Doctor and the companions he travels with, but no one answered. Curious, I climbed on top of the Tardis’ controls and saw I could set any time to travel back and forward.

I did not want to go to the future; it’s mysteries will reveal themselves in time.  But I was intrigued about going to the past.

I programmed the controls for 1952.  The whoorping sounds began again and I felt the machine flying quickly through time worms. Then it stopped. I opened the doors and saw I was in a pristine park located at the center of Anytime USA.

There were dogs sniffing along a fence.  I ran to them “Hello,” I announced. “My name is Foley Monster, and I am from the future.”

One of the dogs, a dirty german shepherd turned to look at me.  “From the future?” he asked skeptically. “Why are dogs so small in the future?”

“We are not all small,” I said.  “I am a toy breed. A Yorkshire Terrier.’

The dogs laughed at the name.  “There is no way a toy breed can survive,” another dog said.

“I survive quite well,” I countered.  

“How do you eat?” a yellow lab inquired.

“Mommy pours my kibble from the bag.  She puts it on my plate, and I eat it.”

“Puts kibble on your plate?” the shepherd said stunned.  “We might get some table scraps after supper but anything else we eat we have to catch.  The other dogs agreed with him.

“How about when you go in the house?  Don’t they feed you then?”

“Go in the house?” the german shepherd was stunned.  “I have never stepped inside the house, that is where the humans live.”

“Where do you sleep?” I asked flabbergasted.

“Outside, in my doghouse, with wood chips on the bottom to keep me warm.”
That sounded horrific.  I asked the other dogs if they were allowed in the house.  They said they weren’t. “In the rain, the snow, the cold?”  I asked. No was all they said. This was horrible. I told them how I lived inside and only went outside to poop, pee and get walks.  “What’s a walk?” the retriever asked.

I could not leave these poor dogs in this prehistoric world. I told them I would take them back to the future with me.  “Oh no,” they all said, “we can’t leave our people,” I asked them how they could be so loyal? They have been left outside, not given quality food, not bathed (although I did not mention that because I did not want to insult them), how could they stay?

“They are our humans,” the shepherd said.  I understood. If I had lived as they did, I would still love my parents.  I would have been killed by an angry raccoon in my sleep, but I still would have stayed.  “It is good to know our grandchildren will have better lives,” the retriever said. 

“And since none of us are fixed we are going to have lots of grandchildren,” the shepherd said smiling.

I guess there were some good things about the 50’s.

I hurried home and gave thanks that I was born in 2001 when the world was more civilized and dogs were better appreciated, but I think we are all born when we should be born.

I went back to bed, and by morning the Tardis was gone which I was fine with since my time traveling days were done.  I rolled over in my bed and gave thanks I never slept outside near a mad raccoon, and never would.

Pocket Celebrates the Last Days of Garden Season with Pictures

It rained on Monday.  It was supposed to be our garden day.  When we awoke, it looked very promising.  The sun was high in the blue sky, and the air was warm.  Then suddenly, without warning, fall arrived.

We were outside, River Song and I in our buggy, when the sky turned gunmetal grey.  The clouds slipped one under another until the sky turned dark. Then the rain fell as Mommy deadheaded flowers and Daddy mowed the wet lawn.  Once the grass was cut Daddy told Mommy, there was nothing to be done that couldn’t wait another week.
Instead of working outside, getting smelly and wet, we were inside, where it smelled clean, pleasantly dry, and we took advantage of our cleared schedule to have a snuggle day.

The next morning it was still raining, but the air smelled crisper.  The wet grass was cooler on our paws. The green leaves had changed overnight.   They were now red, yellow and orange. They looked prettier. Leaves have that advantage. They are brightest just before the fall.

I wish the same were true of flowers.  I don’t like to brag, modesty is my calling card, but we had outstanding flowers this year.  They grew taller, bloomed brighter, and spread further than they had in the five years since my parents began gardening.  In August, when the air is hot, dry, and stale, it seemed like we were experiencing an endless summer. But all things, both bad, the oppressive heat, and good, the beautiful flowers, must come to an end.

It would be nice if flowers, like leaves, became their brightest just before they wilted. Sadly, they fade away, at first slowly, and then all at once.  What was once healthy, pleasing plants began to show their advanced age a week ago, and by Tuesday their stems were bent, their remaining blooms were trying to bury themselves in the warm ground before they expired.

Here are some pictures of our garden in August, when the flowers were in their prime, and it seemed outlandish that the day would come when they would no longer be the dominant feature in our yard.


Thankfully my parents fill the gardens with autumn flowers, cabbages, and mums, to ease the transition from the beautiful summer blooms to the stark winter landscape.  Pumpkins, purchased, not grown, are carefully placed in the gardens. Scarecrows also bought, are in the front garden, back by the house, not scaring any critters, but also not frightening me, so they are a neutral presence.  There are also jack o’ lanterns solar lights, which do scare me, but we are not outside long enough at night for the fear to linger.

The sun is lower in the sky during our walks, and will soon be gone, making us night walkers, with those little lights on our collars in the off chance we slip the leash.  And the air will get colder. Our leisurely, hot, panting walks of summer are in the past, becoming moderate walks now but will soon become hasty travels as our shivering parents hurry us along and deny our sniffing so they can return to the warm house


We are two weeks away from the comforter returning to our bed.  We love when it is cold in the house, and we are under the comforter, our body heat mingling with our parents creating a lovely layer of warmth.  River enjoys sticking her nose from underneath to breathe in the cold air while she remains warm.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Capiton

Let's see Mommy spend all day on the computer and ignoring me now.

Monday Question

What do you do with leaves when they fall?  Do you bark at them?  Play in them?  Chase them when they blow around?  Eat them?  Something else?

Pocket:  We bark and sometimes sniff and chase.  We think they are alive.