An Angels First Day at the Bridge

In 2013 I passed from the mortal world leaving behind a broken-hearted family.  The presumed cause was lung cancer, but that was merely a cover. I had accepted a judgeship at District Four of Rainbow Bridge. At first, I refused the offer.  But then the leader of the Immortal World, the Big Guy, said he would allow me to communicate about life in the Immortal World. No had been offered this before.  I hated leaving my parents and my friends, but I had a greater calling.

In the beginning, every soul was immortal, which is why the Bible had so many characters who were 1,000 years old.  When the world got too crowded the Big Guy, our ruling deity, carved a body of water, called the River of Life through the land creating two sides, one mortal where life begins and species live until their heartbeats expire, and the immortal side, where all creatures inevitably go, an ever-expanding, quiet, simpler land, where they watch over and await, their loved ones.

Everyone has a soul.  It is located in their chest.  It cannot be seen by the human eye, and it does not appear on x-rays.  Souls go in and out with every breath. When the heart stops beating, the last breath is exhaled, and the soul leaves the body.  It is caught by the breezes and floats away until it reaches a body of water.  It enters the current and flows along. Eventually, because all bodies of water are connected, the soul reaches the River of Life, which is currently in northeast New Jersey where very few go and those who do don’t return.  The river gently carries the soul to the shore. Once exposed to the peaceful air of the Immortal Side the soul takes corporeal form again.

The water gently laps the shore.  Off in the distance is the sound of a rowboat slowly rubbing against a dock   It smells like 1,000 gardens. Birds fly overhead singing a welcoming song. There is a path with witchgrass lining both sides.  Off in the distance is stone footbridge crossing the river with the sun setting over it. The new angel has no choice but to move forward toward the Bridge.  Whatever direction they choose to walk brings them closer to it. And if they don’t move the Bridge comes to them.
The Bridge spans the River of Life.  When one passes over it all the pains of living, the effects of aging, the emotional scars accrued during a lifetime, are shed like a teenager removing clothes before a skinny dip.  

We call it land Rainbow Bridge after the sign of love angels emit when thinking of their parents. Sometimes that love is so strong humans can see the rainbow.
When an angel crossed the Bridge, there are a million paths winding through gardens all leading to the Immortal World.  It doesn’t matter which path they choose. It always leads to where they should go.

. Those assigned to my district come to an immense stairway that reaches into the clouds (we used to have an escalator that Enzo created but it rusted in the rain, and we have trouble getting parts.   We also used to have a wall to try and keep all souls on the mortal side, but nature always finds a way.) Angels climb the stairs, and when they reach the top, they find me ready to administer the angel oath and all the angels who loved them on the mortal side waiting for them.

There is a special spot where I perform the angel oath.  We recently named it Hobo’s Landing after the great American dog and author Hobo Hudson.  Then come the clouds filled with the tears shed by the news angel’s loved ones. They rain down upon us.  
Since the advent of social media dogs is loved by more people, they have ever even sniffed. The tears puddle on the ground.  We sniff them searching for the ones shed by our parents. Then the tears are put in our gardens. They are the secret to beautiful buds.
My friend Scooby displays an array of wings he created just for this pup.  After one is chosen, Ladybug gives the angel flying lessons.  Our wings are detachable. Most the time they are a bother. You can’t roll around on the grass, sleep on your back, or sit in a chair wearing wings.  

Angels can choose where they want to live.  I picked a cabin overlooking the river with lots of gardens surrounding it.   A pup can live on a cloud, on the moon, in a high rise, in a mansion, wherever they are comfortable. Thanks to angel temperature control, it can be summer or winter, sun or snow, often on the same day.  

At the end of the day, a huge welcoming feast is held for the angel.  There is all the food the pup was denied in his mortal life: chocolate, thick steaks, strawberry ice cream, pizza, fried chicken, and so much more.  The best part is we can eat what we want, and it doesn’t go to our hips.

All the dogs who met on social media live in two neighboring villages.  The one where I make my home is called Doggyspace. It has lots of green grass, hills, and trees.  In the center of town are shops operated by our friends. Hannah Banana sells treats, Hattie Mae designs outfits, and Otie Campbell runs an ice cream shop.  Benjamin is our sheriff, but his only duties are to make sure we are having fun. It is a big job, so Brody has volunteered to be his deputy. Next to us is Blogville where our blogging friends live.  

An angel must watch over and take care of our parents. We visit them every day.  When we fly into the sun, we emerge in their dreams. They usually don’t remember our visits.  We are regulated to the left side of their brain and memories are stored on the right side. Occasionally we can knock down the door in between, and our encounters are remembered, but this happens once in a thousand dreams.
  
Flying beings can go back and forth across the river.  If anything happens to them, they are given a new body when their soul reaches here.  We can switch bodies with the birds to visit our loved ones. Butterflies and hummingbirds are the best.  Humans always welcome them. Some other choices freak our parents out and are difficult to handle causing us to crash into windows, and our insurance rates go up.  If a human sees a bird watching them intently, they should know it is one of their angels coming to say hello.

We can visit without leaving our homes.  If we concentrate hard enough, we can place ourselves right next to our parents.  Some call this ghosting. Dogs can see us, but we only are seen by our parents out of the corner of their eyes.  If a human thinks they saw something, but don’t quite know what, it is an angel visit.

One of the angel’s goals is to help their parents find a new dog to repair their broken hearts. We interview hundreds of candidates until we find that one special pup. We enter our parents’ dreams and whisper to them that it is time they found a pup.  We tell our parents where to find this new companion. Once they are together, we no longer have to fret over our parents’ broken hearts. We can also enter other dogs’ dreams and take them with us to play at the Bridge.  When you see your dog twitching or running in their sleep, know they are with us.

Someday all our loved ones will join us here, despite our best efforts to keep them healthy.  When everyone they love is at the Bridge, we retire to the land called “Happily Ever After” where we can wait out eternity living worry-free days filled with love.



These are all the secrets I am allowed to tell you, for now.  I hope it helps you understand where your loved ones are now, and eases your transition the day you are called.

River Song and Strange Bag of Dog Food

Before I was even a spark in my parents’ eyes Pocket was eating bland Blue Buffalo Basics dog food. When she was a pup, she was diagnosed with irritable bowel.  Mommy asked her internet friends for help in finding a food and Aunt Jody recommended the Blue Basics which was the first food Pocket ate that didn’t offend her delicate stomach on a nightly basis.

I don't know why Foley didn't raise a fuss about being stuck eating one food for the rest of our life.  Apparently, she wasn't interested in kibble, preferring the demanded table scrap whenever she was hungry.

When I was the new pup on the block, I got my very own bag of food. Then that brat Pocket ate some and got sick.  Instead of punishing the stinker my good food was banished from the house, and I had to eat the same crap Pocket did so she didn't get sick. My food and I were innocent, but we were made to suffer.

Sure I got bacon treats, chicken, turkey, and pumpkin but I felt jealousy when I saw how many of my blogger friends were getting vast shipments of different foods from Chewy and writing reviews about their tasting experience while I was stuck with brown, boring and bland.

This week Daddy brought home another bag of food. It was dumped on my plate.  I immediately realized something was different. It didn't have the same dull smell. The kibbles were large and flat.  Even the nasty LifeSource bits that I hide under my bowl were bigger. Did we finally get some new food? Was our long national nightmare is finally over?

Pocket and I discussed the food.  We sniffed trying to determine what was in it.  Was there pomegranate? I'm getting a bison taste off of this one.  I think that's pumpkin chef.

By the end of the meal, my eagle eye parents noticed the different kibble sizes.  They looked at it wondering if it was a different formula or just a large breed bites put in an adult bag.  I hoped it was something else. I hadn't eaten anything else in a long time. Maybe I could keep something else at least until the bag was done.

The next day Daddy called the Blue Buffalo people.  He told them the bag of Basic adult food had larger kibble and asked if it could be a different formula.  The woman on the phone assured him there were many checkpoints to make sure that didn't happen. She said someone probably forgot to change the setting on the cutter. I guess there were no checkpoints for that.  The woman stressed that Blue Buffalo didn't do anything wrong. This is America; they're a big business, how could they be at fault?

My parents discussed bringing the bag back to the store.  Mommy said we were eating it alright. Maybe this one bag wouldn't hurt us.  All right Mom! Score!

The next morning Pocket wouldn't eat.  This wasn't unusual. Every two or three weeks Pocket skips breakfast has a nasty poop then eats her supper and continues as if nothing happened.  Her not eating on this morning was right on schedule.

Of course, my parents needed something to blame, and they singled out the new bag of food.  I tried to reason with them. This was just Pocket’s time of the month. Give the big kibbles another chance.  They didn't do anything to you.

But my protests were for naught.  Something new was brought back to the store, and a bag of the same old crap replaced it.

Goodbye by tasty new food with your funny fat little kibbles and identifiable tastes.  If I had my way, you would have had a permanent home in my belly.

But once again no one listened to the Griffon.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

My mom thought she could go hiking without me!  Surprise

Monday Question

Is there a common household item that scares you?

Pocket:  I don't like anything that beeps.


River:  I don't like the Swiffer.  Once it is the ground it moves rapidly.  And mommy is addicted to the thing. I have a beard.  When I get it wet it drips on the floor.  I can be sure in seconds the swifter is going to be chasing me.  

Petey is the February 3, 2019 Pup of the Week

More than twenty years ago at the puppy making plant, located a month’s journey from Doggyspace Villiage, there was a momentary breakdown, causing one creation to receive more heartbeats than the others.

When this pup was born no one recognized that he came into the world with something extra. He seemed like a normal dog.  When his momma selected him to live with her, she knew the sweet little pup would love her, but she had no way of knowing for how long. She named him Petey, unaware that before his heartbeats would expire 21 years hence his name would be known in thousands of households.

Petey joined the online site Doggyspace before I did. He was one of the pups, along with Hattie Mae and Tommy Tunes who taught us how to express the joy and frustrations that the simplicity of everyday dogs’ lives brings.

I confessed when I created my own online persona I looked to them and followed their paw prints in the sand to help establish my identity. I am certain I am not alone.
Petey had a couple of years on me, but no one could tell. I thought I held off the effects of aging, but Petey was truly forever young.  He was not afraid to divulge his secret. It had nothing to do with extra heartbeats, at least according to him. It was the Mac and Cheese he devoured.  It seemed counterintuitive but who was I to argue with success?
Petey was 15 when I accepted the position of judge at the fourth district of Rainbow Bridge. I expected my senior friend Petey, who lived a couple of exits up the highway from my parents, to be close behind. While dozens of our friends joined us, Petey kept going until he was old enough to drive, then old enough to vote, then closing in on old enough to drink.

On his twentieth birthday, Petey let us know he has not crossed over yet. He was very tired and slept most of the day, but his heart kept on beating.

But sadly, everything ends, and for Petey, the effects of a puppy making machine malfunction and copious amounts of mac and cheese stopped working. One morning last week mom found Petey in his bed. He had slipped over to the other side with no muss, fuss or big vet bill. He was a kind and caring gentleman until the end.

His mom has his ashes now. They are on a shelf next to the enhanced photo Tommy's dad Steve did for their old chum.  People commented that Petey and his mom were lucky to have so much time together, which is true, some have half as many, but each year meant more of her heart that she gave to Petey, and the greater the hole in her chest when he departed. Her house is filled with the sound of empty paw steps, a deafening sound of silence. I know all those familiar with that awful sound will pray her journey down grief’s path will be brief.

I have seldom seen so many angels gathered for arrival as I did for Petey’s. There were hundreds of dogs fluttering around and waiting. We saw him slowly cross the Bridge. With each step, the pain left his body.  He had amassed a lot of discomfort in 20 years, so it took longer than most for it to dissipate.

By the time Petey was at the top step, he felt the way he had 15 years prior.  He was mobbed when he stepped on Hobo's Landing. I, like an umpire trying to make sure the winning run is safe, got caught up in the happy scrum and ended up at the bottom of a dog pile when I administered the oath to Petey.

Picnic tables appeared. Tommy climbed on top of one and announced there were mac and cheese for everyone. We all sat down and began licking up this rare treat. “It had been too long since I had a plate,” Petey said, his mouth covered with cheese. “It is perfect!”

Most angels,  like their mortal counterparts, would do, took a nap after their feast. Petey stayed up with his closest friends and discussed how to ease his mom's pain. 
 “She gave me a lot of her heart; I hope she knows I gave her some of mine to her so I will always be with her.’

By that night Petey was in his mom's dreams knocking on the door of her consciousness hoping to be remembered. Because of the polar vortex, he has not found a willing winged creature to swap bodies with so he could visit her in a corporal form. But warmer days and angel visits are ahead for her.




When Petey does visit, I am sure it will be for days. If there is one thing he has, it's staying power.

Maybe I'm A Maizy: How Chase and Gucci Found a New Dog for Their Mom

1. 

When dogs are together most of their lives, and they love one another fiercely, their relationship begins to resemble that of an old married couple.

Never has this been truer than with Chase and Gucci, two Poms who crossed late last year, first Gucci, then Chase, from a broken heart caused by his brother's absence.  Chase and Gucci lived with Momma Sherry, to make a perfect trio, which was briefly reduced to a duo until they became one: The loneliest number.

Chase and Gucci have been as equally inseparable at the Bridge as they were in the mortal world.  One day they would be happily playing in one of the Bridge's many overgrown tickless fields. The next day they would be enjoying a sunny day at the park, with one laying their head on the other. The next they would be getting ice cream at Otie Campbells or treats at Hannah Bananas.  Sometimes they laughed sweetly, sometimes they spoke softly, and sometimes they bickered. Mostly, they argued about how to take care of their mom and the best way to heal her broken heart.

“We need to find her another dog” Chase announced confidentiality
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“Absolutely not!” Gucci snapped back. “We were mommy's last dogs.  She can't take the pain of losing another pup. And she doesn't want to get a puppy that she could outlive. Not going to do it.”

“This isn't about what momma wants it's about what momma needs. If we don't get her a dog, we will never see her pretty, carefree smile again.’

“And if she gets a dog when she isn't ready. She won't bond with it and won't be happy. I say we wait until mommy says she wants a dog instead of trying to dream force one on her. “

Chase said he would commence his search the next morning. Gucci told Chase he was on his own. The next day, as Chase began to slip into the first candidate's dreams, Gucci joined him. “I am certainly not letting you select this dog on your own,” Chase said to his brother.

They must have interviewed a thousand dogs.  The one that intrigued them the most was an unloved, unwanted, flea covered black Maltese mix near their momma's home in Long Beach.

Gucci was charmed by the little Maltese, and he and Chase agreed that she was perfect for their mom. They convinced the dog to take a huge risk.  She slipped her lead and left the negligent family behind buoyed by the Brothers promise that a better life was just beyond the horizon.

She was picked up by animal control, given a flea bath and held for her owners to claim her, but no one did, just as Chase and Gucci had promised her because they knew bad parents when they smelled them. Meanwhile, after several dream visits from her angels Momma Sherry awoke, unable to remember their presence but filled with an insatiable desire to visit the pound.

When Momma Sherrie came in the shelter, the little dog recognized her from the brothers’ description, and she turned on the charm. Momma Sherrie never had a chance. The little dog was finally in the family she deserved.  She Immediately began to fix her new mom's, broken heart.

Mamma Sherrie named her new baby Mazie because it was amazing she had found a cute, snugly, house trained, perfect little pup so close to her home.  If she knew how hard Chase and Gucci had worked to get their mom a new dog, she would know how amazing her finding Mazie really was.

I stopped by the brother's house with a bottle of wine and some cookies to congratulate them.  I heard their excited yips and thought they would be playing in the yard but found them bickering over what color leash Mazie shouldn't have.




Like an old married couple, they couldn't be happier