Foley Reports About the First Time Dog and Men Came Together

There have been two constants since man and dog first bonded. One is for the love they share.  The other is poop.

Poop first brought man and dog together.  The initial moment that a man partnered with a dog was in the Neanderthal age.  Things were not very hygienic then. If a man had to poop, he did. This particular man, Robert, lived next door to someone who became angry when Robert pooped on his lawn.  "Wild animals poop on your lawn all the time," Robert said, defending himself.

"It's different when it's a wild animal," the neighbor said. "They don't know better."

Robert thought this was rather discriminatory.  He went to see Phil, his Neanderthal lawyer. Robert wanted Phil to file a rock, stating that the freedom to poop was his birthright.  Philip rejected his request. First, because filling meant drawing the action on a rock, then throwing it at the defendant's head. If you hit the defendant in the head, you won.  If you missed you lost. If you hit him in the balls, it was a hung jury. Phil gave Robert a list of reasons why he would not hurl a rock, without letting on the true reason. He had been gored in the shoulder by an angry moose and couldn't throw a rock five feet. 

Robert was despondent. What he didn't share, even with his lawyer, was that he had a sensitive bowel. Such an admission could lead to him being banned from the tribe and made to live in the hinterlands. He had no more control over his bowels then he did of his wife, who went out every night to the swamp to ride the hippo. 

The truth was that the world was becoming a more civilized place.  People were no longer pooping on lawns. They were pooping in the middle of the street.  When the need to go hit Robert, he didn't have time to cross the road he just pooped.  

Robert sat, looking at the sunset lamenting his fate.  A wolf joined him and asked what was wrong. Robert understood the wolf.  It was not that wolves were smarter; then, people understood their barks because it was close to how humans spoke.

Robert told him about his poop situation.  The wolf, Larry, suggested that they travel together.  Whenever Robert had to poop, Larry would squat next to him and poop too.  If an angry cave owner came out, Robert could tell the property owner that Larry was the pooper, and it was alright because animals had full pooping privileges.

Robert was intrigued by the idea.  He and Larry walked by the cantankerous neighbor's house.  Robert did his business on the lawn, and Larry squatted in back of him doing the same on top of Larry's.   When the neighbor came outside to complain, Robert said the offending poop came from Larry. The man looked at the wolf.  “Well, if it's the wolf's," he said sheepishly and went inside. 

Robert bragged to his incontinent friends about the successful endeavor, and soon, other humans were discarding the loin diaper and getting a dog.  These partnerships spread across the land until dogs and men became inseparable. 


So, the next time you encounter a nasty neighbor who does not want a dog popping in his lawn, thank him. It is because of his ancestors that man and dog came together.

Pocket Gets Stuck Between a Buggy and a Hard Place

Last Wednesday, something very frightening happened to me, and it was because my parents can’t change a lightbulb. 

Several years ago, my parents had a ceiling light installed over their chairs in the living room because people of a certain age need a lot of light.  It was pretty. It was comprised of three small lights, snuggly placed in three globes. It kept our home a clean and well-lit place.

Eventually, one of the tiny light bulbs blew.  Daddy got out the step ladder and climbed up to change it.  He figured it would be easier if he removed the globe then to try and get his fingers in the small place between it and the bulb.  He tried unscrewing the globe with no luck. He then gave it a good Yankee tug. The globe, along with the fixture that held the globe in place, came down. A small ring, a vital part of the assembly, had broken.  My parents had to order and new one and wait three weeks for the part to arrive. 

When it arrived, Daddy had to put the part inside the smallest and deepest part of the fixture, which was designed facing downward, adding gravity to the degree of difficulty. Luckily Daddy has little hands.  (Note: He says that the myth isn’t true, and “it” is normal-sized." Probably because he is saying that while holding it in his tiny doll hands.) He was able to get all the pieces inside the fixture, attach the globe, and then, after several tries, get the light into the socket.  Then he realized he would have to screw the bulb in, which could only be accomplished by putting his thumb on the glass part of the bulb, twisting it, and hoping the bulb would twist with it and would hold.

For three years, Daddy struggled screwing in the light bulbs.  Sometimes it would take him a half an hour to do one bulb. Late last year, when a light blew, my parents decided to let all three go out, and then replace the entire unit.   The second blew in January. The third light bulb held on like Sean Spicer on Dancing with the Stars. So many times, my parents thought it would go out, but for a record ten months, it stayed on. My parents finally decided to give in and replace it before Sean was blown out 

On Wednesday, a man came in to take down the old light fixture and put it in the new one.  At first, we were placed in the bathroom. When Mommy needed to use the sit-down water bowl, Daddy got our buggy and put us inside.  As we always do in our buggy, we were good girls and waited patiently. After a half-hour, the man left without giving us a chance to sniff.

I was prepared to be removed from the stroller, but instead, my parents began cleaning up the work product. I decided I had enough buggy time.  There was a small opening between the front and back sections of the stroller. During the garden time, I stick my head out until one of my parents tells me to settle down.

But, I had grown impatient.  I stuck my head out and then pushed with my back legs.  I got half-way out, with my rib cage and above on the outside, and the rest stuck on the inside.  The buggy began to squeeze me, and I started to wheeze excitedly.

My parents rushed into the kitchen and saw me stuck.  Daddy tried to pull, but my back in, but my hind end did not cooperate.  Mommy took over. She said it was just like giving birth. She eased me out of the kennel, and I was reborn.  Then I saw the afterbirth:


I wheezed for a minute and then was as good as new.  Now I am breathing easily, and our living room is lit up like someone is shooting a Netflix movie.



I can’t help thinking none of this would have occurred if someone had been able to screw in a light bulb.  

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

"Excuse me, coach.  What were you saying about me not being good enough to make the team?"

Monday Question

What breeds of dogs or cats have your Mommy and Daddy owned?  

Pocket:  Mommy and Daddy together have lived with a Shih Tzu, Maltese, Papillon, Yorkie-Poo, Brussels Griffon and a Siamese.

Geordie Comes to Rainbow Bridge

There was a lot of rain that fell over the east coast in the days before Halloween.  Meteorologists used several maps, computer modules, and Doppler radar to explain this phenomenon.  I knew the real reason. My exceptional friend Geordie crossed Rainbow Bridge this week, and there were so many tear clouds formed by those who wept over his passing that the clouds got backed up, and the rain fell on the mortal side too.

Geordie's passing was as exceptional as his life.  He had been diagnosed with cancer two years ago and given a short amount of time before he was scheduled to leave for the immortal side.  His mom was told to take him home and make him comfortable.  
Geordie’s momma Leslie is a painter who has created stunning portraits of family dogs.  Momma Leslie knows our souls, which is why she creates such lovely paintings. Geordie inspired her to draw him as he encountered the world, then created books from them, the first one being A Good Mom is a Tired Mom.  After his brother Toby, who Geordie labeled the usurper joined the pack, Momma Leslie included him in her second book Poopitier. Her latest Dream Our World depicted Geordie and Toby visiting a museum featuring some of civilization's masterpieces, all of which had been redone to insert her duo, and other dogs, as the subjects of the paintings.  The book stands as a beautiful tribute to the pup whose she nicknamed Bitey Dog( and for whom she named her blog). Mama Leslie depicted everything that made Geordie special as he looked after his troublesome little brother with patience, kindness, sweetness, empathy, and good humor attributes that Geordie showed to his friends daily.

That is why I lobbied for Geordie to get extra heartbeats.  If a friend saw a comment from Geordie, it was sure to be fun, charming, wise, kind, and humorous.  The mortal world needed more Geordie. The Guild of Dogs agreed and gave Geordie six more months.  

Those six months passed in a flash.  The dark angels were sent to summon Geordie to the Bridge. They returned without him, quite flustered.  "He refused," a bewildered dark angel said.

Barghest, the angel in charge of incoming pups was furious. "He can't say no!" Barghest barked.   He decided he would have to do it himself.

He went into Geordie's dreams.  The oversized dog with his huge fangs and claws was terrifying. "I command you to surrender and come to Rainbow Bridge," Barghest roared.

"No, thank you," Geordie said.

"You don't have an option," Barghest screamed.  "You have to come with me.'
Mama Leslie had always thought of Geordie as a strong-willed dog, but she had no idea how true that was. "You can't make me,”  Geordie said. "You're a ghost. I can put my hand right through you." Then, to Barghest's chagrin, he did.

"This will not stand!" Barghest yelled.  "When I am done with you, then you will be begging to go to the Bridge!". Then he disappeared.

Barghest sent plague after plague to Geordie, including indigestion, trouble breathing, heartburn, lack of appetite, and loss of balance. Geordie had his bad days when his mom considered aiding him on his final journey, but then he would wrestle these demons into submission, ravishingly eat his food, and demand a long walk.  Barghest could only shake his head in admiration.

Barghest did this several times during the next year, and a half and Geordie defeated all the plagues thrown at him.  I was proud but knew his continuing living in a body wracked with cancer was problematic. Geordie could not live forever despite what he believed.

The Guild of Dogs asked me to meet with them over the "Geordie" problem.  I suggested they let me talk to him.

I entered his dreams, and we chatted like two close friends. I brought up how much I enjoyed his mom's last name book about the museum.  Then I told him there was no place like that in the Doggyspace village where we lived. "I sure would like to have a museum there," I said.  "I just don't know how to do it."

Immediately Geordie rattled off a dozen ideas he had for the museum.  "We could use someone like you," I said.

Geordie contemplated the idea.  "Do you think I could do it?" he asked.  I told him I was sure he could. To keep up appearances, I told him he should apply for the job.  Secretly it was his.

I convinced The Guild of Dogs to build Geordie a museum and let him select whatever he wanted to put inside it.  They agreed eager to solve the Geordie problem. I also knew it was suitable for my friend. He was growing tired of all the battles. He needed a rest and a fresh challenge.

I sent a little orange butterfly to let Geordie know he had the position as curator of the Rainbow Bridge museum. He sent one back, accepting the appointment. He had only one request. He wanted to be able to communicate with the mortal side as I did. Since the mortal side always needs some Geordie happily agreed.

That night he told his mom and Toby his decision. While the news saddened his mom, she agreed it was for the best. Before he left, Geordie told Toby he would always be watching over him like the elf on the shelf and always to be a good boy.   Toby gave his brother a big hug. Then Geordie lay down and went to sleep. When he awoke, his body had been rejuvenated by The River of Life. He climbed the hill and entered his museum.

Since his arrival, Geordie has been busy selecting pieces for the museum, when he hasn't been visiting his mom or watching over Toby.  The opening is on Saturday night, and everyone is invited. If you are a mortal and wish to attend, then let the last thing you think of Saturday night before sleep be Geordie, and you will be transported to the event in your dreams.    Don't expect to see any of the classics. Every painting on display is a new immortal world works by Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Monet, Pollock, Da Vinci, Picasso, Warhol, and many more. Shorn of the conventions of mortal life, the paintings are breathtaking.




 And don't forget to say hello to the most beautiful treasure there, the curator Geordie, who is truly a masterpiece.

A Final Visit

Sometimes an angel’s duties are sad; other times, they are happy, and sometimes they are both. 
I got a prayer request this week that moved me so much I had to do everything I could to answer it in the affirmative.  The prayer came from a man named John Vincent. He is a 69-year-old Vietnam veteran who had recently gone into hospice care.  When he did, he was forced to part with Patch, his six-year-old terrier mix.   

I was first made aware of this situation by Patch, himself.  The poor baby knew his dad was getting sick, and like all dogs, he believed what he needed the most was Patch taking care of him.  Sadly, the doctors felt otherwise. With no family to provide for Mr. Vincent, he had to enter hospice care, and poor Patch went into a shelter.  That is why Patch contacted me. He desperately wanted to go back home. I had to break the sad news to Patch that his prayer could not be granted.  I promised I would do everything in my power to find him a new home. But, we both knew it would not be the same.

Frankly, doing that sucked the big one.  I was concentrating on finding Patch a home that he deserved when I got a second prayer.  This was from Mr. Vincent. He knew his heartbeats were ending, and all he wanted was one more day with his best friend, and his only family member:  Patch. 

Luckily, this is the type of prayer request that humans want to see fulfilled.  When I went into the dreams of Amy Neal, the palliative care worker at the hospice, I found a mind already working hard to reunite Patch and Mr. Vincent.  I was heartened to learn that the wheels were in motion, and I did not have to make a herculean effort to make it happen, but I still had a duty to see it come to fruition.

Patch had been placed with the Albuquerque Animal Welfare, where every worker had fallen in love with the little terrier mix.  They were working on finding Patch a home, and there were several applicants until then I knew nothing would be better for him than to snuggle with his dad. Thanks to the good people at the hospice and the rescue that snuggle was immanent.    

When Patch was brought into the hospice, his nose told him this is where his dad was.  When Patch saw Mr. Vincent in the hospital bed, he began to do the doggy wiggle, the need to provide comfort to the man who cared for him all his life was overwhelming.  Patch's dad’s tender hand on his pup's head stopped the desperate squirms. Patch crawled up his dad’s chest and navigated the tubes to give him sweet licks

Patch then snuggled down next to his dad.  They spent one more day together doing what dogs and their parents do best, blissfully nothing.  Intermittently Mr. Vincent would lift Patch up to his chest and squeeze him. The broad smile never left Patchs’ face.  He knew he had to go, that this wasn’t his new home, but he enjoyed every single second of his reunion. That is one significant advantage we dogs have over humans.  We may not live as long, but time does move slower for us, and we can savor every moment. 

When it came time for Patch to go home, we left them alone to say their final goodbyes.  I was outside the room but could hear the sound of hearts breaking. Then Patch was returned to the shelter.  
I tried to lie next to Mr. Vincent.  People closer to the end can sense angels.  I don’t know if I helped Mr. Vincent. I was no substitute for Patch, but I do hope I helped. 

Mr. Vincent will be Patch's angel soon, and Patch will be in a new home. Then Mr. Vincent will visit Patch in his dreams, and they can just snuggle together until the day comes when they can so for eternity.