Beat This Caption

Searching for intelligent signs of life in the universe

Pup of the Week: Being Leo

It was a lovely Friday afternoon at Rainbow Bridge.  We were making plans for parades and barbeques to honor us because we are the ones recognized on Memorial Day.  Suddenly the skies filled with clouds.  Teardrops began dropping from them.  I ran over and tasted a puddle of tears:  They were my nom’s, mixed with many others.

My heart sunk to my paws.  I ran down to the River to look in the water where I could see my Mom on the mortal side below the surface.  She was reading her computer.  I scanned the words.  “Leo….sick….diagnosis….leukemia.”  

Leo?  Leukemia?  Leo?  Who visited me in my dreams while I lay in my oxygen tent during my last mortal hours so I would not be scared?  Leo?  Who, with his mom;s help, sends Pocket and River presents from me so they know they I know I will never forget them?  Leo?  Who had the wedding of the century with Hattie Mae?  Leo?  Who along with Lou ee has the best co-birthday parties?  Leo?  My brother from other parents?  Leo?  Muse to his Mom’s many beautiful paintings?  Leo?  Strong, kind, resilient, courageous, emphatic Leo?  Leukemia?

“No!” I barked.  And I heard many other angels barking the same word.  “No,” as if barking the word could make it not true.  It was a devastating truth.  And it was a slow truth.

A slow truth is a fact that takes a long time for the mind to accept.  Like a dull nail being forced into hard wood with a thin hammer.  Whack, whack, whack until slowly it is accepted.  Leo is sick.  Leo has Leukemia.

I had to see Leo.

I checked on him and saw him napping next to his Mom.  I popped into his dream.

He was curled up with his Mom but he and I were the only ones who could move.  That’s what it is like inside a dream.  He looked up.  “Foley,” he said.  He jumped down and gave me a hug.  I admit I left many tears on his Chow fur.  “What is wrong?” he asked wiping my tears.

“You,” I said.  “You’re sick.”

“Oh Foley,” he said, giving me another big hug.  “Don’t worry about me.  I was sick earlier but I am feeling more like myself now.”

“But I read you have Leukemia.”

“Yes,” he said softly.  “I guess I do.  My parents are very upset about that.   You have to promise me you will watch over her.”

“Of course,”  I said.  “But what about you?”

“I am going to have tests, and I am going to have treatments, and I am going to have good days, and I am going to have some tough days, but I won’t have any bad days, not as long as I am with my parents.  And I am going to fight with everything I have to stay with them as long as I can.  I can put up with anything as long as I can feel their warm hands touching my head and running my ears.  If it ever becomes too much for me, and I am going to try to keep that day at bay for many more years, I will come to the wall, and I will knock four times, and you will let me in, agreed?”

I was crying again.  All I could do was nod.  He hugged me again.  “I need you to go now Foley, I have a lot of angels who are lined up to visit.  I am blessed Foley.  I have the best parents and the most wonderful friends.  Don’t worry about me.  Just don’t forget my parents.”

“Never,” I promised.  Before leaving I made a dream date visit for me, him, and Hattie in Paris Sunday night.  I am going to need to go to the groomers.

I opened my eyes.  I was back on the river bank.  And I knew what I needed to do.

As I lay dying Leo was with me.  He didn’t ask questions, he let there be silence.  He was strong, supportive, and understanding.  He was the epitome of what a dog should be.

While I believe, and pray to be true, that Leo is a long way from the day where he will knock four time on the Bridge wall, I will, during his illness, become Leo:  I will be strong, supportive, understanding, and there for him and his family every single day, as he was for me.

If you want to help Leo then sit your sights on the highest bar:  To be like Leo.  If you do clear that bar and become like Leo then Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And---which is more---you'll be a dog, my pup!

Just like Leo.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Dream Visits with Odie and Scooby

Since arriving at Rainbow Bridge Scooby has proven himself to be extremely helpful.  He has opened a wing design shop.  Angels flock to him to get the beautiful wings he creates.  He has made Rainbow Bridge a much more colorful place.  The angels giggle when they see us together.  Scooby is a Great Dane with long legs.  I am a Yorkie whose entire body is smaller than Scooby’s head.  We are quite an odd couple.

Every Saturday night Scooby and I enter our siblings, Pocket, River Song, and Odie’s dreams, and we go on adventures.  We have gone to the North Pole, the Grand Canyon, Scooby’s mom’s fish tank, deep down the ocean floor and to the moon.  This week we had a grand time.

We went deep into outer space all the way up Uranus.  We stood on the surface and jumped on the first comet that passed by travelling at more than a million miles an hour.   Odie and Scooby wrapped their long appendages around the comet.  Pocket, River and I are all small and have to dig our paws in.  Pocket lost her balance and flew off.  I was able to snag her and pull her own to my comet before she floated out of our galaxy.

We steered towards the rings of Saturn.   We reached over and grabbed some ice balls. Then we popped them in our mouths.  They were so cool and tasted great.  

Then we headed for Jupiter where we filled our plates with Jupiter’s hot red cloud spices and red velvet cake.  The spices made our tongues burn.    Luckily Odie has saved us some ice balls to cool down our hot mouths.

We landed on Mars, and we took turns riding the rover all over the red planet.  The rover is like a space dog except it doesn’t poop.  Pooping at zero gravity can be dangerous.  If you move the wrong way post poop, it pops up and hits you on the face.

We bypassed Earth and went to the moon to pick up more of Smoochy’s dust in case we have a late winter.  Then we went to Venus, the planet of amore, for some love dust to sprinkle over our loved ones and finally to Mercury to gain speed so we could get back home quickly.

When we go on our dream dates, we always bring other friends and angels, so if you want to go adventuring next week let us know and go to bed early Saturday night.

Just don’t eat any of Scooby’s cake.

Pee Mail By River Song

I was born into the world of social media.  I have not lived a day without being able to g on the computer and learning about my friends’ adventures.  Pocket has lived an equally fortunate life.  But Foley, who became the queen of social media, was born into a world where dogs never blogged.  She had to learn about her friends’ adventures the old way:  Through pee-mail.  She passed this knowledge onto Pocket who did the same for me.

Every dog has certain spots on their walk where their friends stop and pee.  Our parents think that we are just marking territory, but we are getting more information than any 24-hour news channel.

We are lucky enough to have two spots.  One is located on a corner two streets from our house.  There is a big rock on the lawn, and it is popular for both boy and girl pees.  (A rock is the urinal of the dog world.)   The second spot is further up the same road by the brook.  There is nothing like the sound of a babbling brook to make a dog want to pee.

Pocket and I work together gathering information, and we use our super mental connection to exchange information: “Mocha is getting used to her wheels.  She came over to pee yesterday,” I say. “Orkie got an alligator flavored treat.  She liked it a lot,” Pocket says. “When Mr. Johnson goes to work, Mrs. Johnson has the Geek Squad guy over, and they got into the bedroom where there isn’t a computer,” I conveyed after a long sniff.  Pee-mail is where you can exchange information that you would not be allowed to do on social media.

Our parents rarely give us enough time to read our mail.  They are always pulling us to continue with our walk.  Big dogs have it easier but we smaller dogs have to dig in our paws to keep sniffing without scrambling any of our friend's messages.  Then we leave our message and move along to the next spot.

We dogs believe that someday all the fancy human technology will crumble, the Internet will collapse, and the world will spin backwards to a simpler time.

We dogs will continue to communicate as long as we have pee.

Glorious pee.  

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

"My precious. MY PRECIOUS!"

Dress Up For Whitley

Today were a dressing up for our friend Whitley, Blogville's biggest fashionista.  We can not hold a candle to Whitley's looks but here are some of ours: