Dear Santa: I Really Am A Good Dog by River Song

Dear Santa Paws:

How are you?  I read that scientist say the ice is melting up where you are.  I hope that doesn’t cause a problem for you.  I always imagined you have white, fluffy snow.  I hope it isn’t cold and wet.  A fat man shouldn’t be shoveling wet snow.

I am writing to make sure that there is no misunderstanding between us.  I am a very happy dog who loves her parents very much.

I can see why you might think otherwise.  I was born, and have carried through life, with this expression on my face.

This is what is known as a resting Griff face. This picture was taken when I was upset about something.  

Now I want to show you a different picture.  This is me bursting with joy.

So you see my problem.  I want to show you how happy I am with my family, and my life, and I have a face that is stuck in one position.  Oh, I suppose it is better than if it was stuck in a smiling position.  When your face is stuck frowning people assume you are angry all the time when your face is stuck smiling all the time people move in you into a hospital for the perpetually happy where you wear a jacket with no arms and have pudding for every meal.  

I am sorry, I digressed.  Sometimes I do that.  Back to my point.  I know you are making your list of naughty and nice dogs and when you make the naughty list there is usually my face is used as the emoji at the top of the page.

But, honestly, I am a very happy and grateful dog.  I love my family, I adore my friends, I want for nothing.  I am the most satisfied, content dog in the world.  Just look at my face:

Oh man.  Naughty list here I come.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Capiton

There is a beaver in here.  Repeat:  There is a beaver in here!

Pup of the Week: Easy

This year, for the first time, I signed my family up for the Blogville Christmas Card list  We have several great friends who we have become very close with over the past few years.  You send cards to your friends at Christmas, don’t you?

Mommy got the list via e-mail.  On our next dream date,  I found her sitting on a rock by the river with the paper in her hand.   There were close to two dozen dogs listed that I had never barked at.  Mommy lectured me:  Now she was going to have to buy cards for dogs I didn’t know.  I tried to blame Pocket but Mom knew better.  I promised Mom I would try to make friends with everyone on the list before Christmas.  She gave me one of her “If I could get mad at you I would,” looks.

I meant to get to know each dog the next morning, but the Christmas Angels made it snow again, and it was so snuggly in my bed, that I procrastinated.

That afternoon I got a text.  I was needed to swear in a new member of Rainbow Bridge.  I put on my robe and slipped the list into the breast pocket.

I saw the new angel.  He was a beautiful, seven-year-old, male Weimaraner.   I performed my duties then asked him his name.  He told me his parents called him Easy.  I felt a chill run through me.  With trembling paw I pulled the list from my pocket.  My eyes ran down the names and rested on Easy.  I turned and showed the list to him.  “Is this you?” I asked.

Easy saw it and smiled.  “Yes, that’s me.  You must be Foley Monster.”  He grabbed my paw and shook it.  “I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you but the circumstances of my arrival have left me quite bereft, and I am mourning the loss of my parents.”  I put a paw of understanding on his shoulder.

I felt so bad.  Here was a perfectly pleasant, handsome, friendly, creative dog, and neither I nor my sisters, got to know him in the mortal world.  We would have so loved to have shared in his adventures and talked to him each day.  Meeting Easy was like finding out about “Hamilton” after it had closed.

His was a particularly tragic passing.  He suffered from bloat, and it caused perforations in his stomach.  At first, the doctors told his parents that he would be okay and his family let loose a happy shout and a sigh of relief.  But during the night his conditioned worsened, and he slipped away to the Bridge.   When an older dog passes there is sadness but also there is a relief to see them young again, no longer troubled by the numerous ailments that ended their lives.  When it is a young dog in his prime like Easy, who came to the Bridge senselessly, there is nothing but sadness.   I know so many angels who arrived here because of bloat and other stomach issues.  It never gets easier.

I introduced Easy to my most trusted Angel friends.  They put him on an accelerated course, so he learned how to fly, to enter his parents’ dreams, and to be near them on the mortal side.  The hardest lessons for new Angels to learn is their parents will never mentally understand that their beloved friend is back by their side but somewhere inside their souls they will know.

And I am sending that list to Pocket.  She has lots of friends to make because there is never enough time.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: The Beginning of the Christmas Season

After our huge Thanksgiving dinner we Angels were all exhausted.  We climbed into our beds and slept for hours.  When we woke up Rainbow Bridge had been transformed for Christmas.

There was frost on my window and a permanent fire blazing in my fireplace.  I touched the window.  It wasn’t cold, and the fire wasn’t warm.  Everything was cozy.  Cozy is the perfect way to spend the holidays.

When I stepped outside, I was suddenly wearing a long green coat, a bright red scarf, and a top hat.  There was snow on the ground, but it was neither wet nor cold, just fluffy and packable.  Across the way, Morgan the Miracle Maltese was making a snow Tim Tebow.  Morgan gave me a big smile and wished me a Merry Christmas.

The trees around my property had suddenly turned into pine trees, and the boughs were covered with bright white snow, and the end of their branches kissed the ground.

All the paths were clear.  There was no sign of shoveling.  It was as if the snow knew not to land on our walkways.

I got hit in the face with a snowball.  It wasn’t cold, or wet; it just covered me with a hundred pieces of soft fuzz.  I saw Fonzie Tuxedo running away from me.  I hurled a snowball at him, but he was too fast.

I made my way to the center of town.  I could hear Christmas carols being sung, but I could not find any singers.  The voices were coming from some celestial beings above us.

All the dogs were happily walking around town greeting one another with happy smiles and cheery greetings.  There was a free hot chocolate stand.  It tasted so good.  There was a huge Christmas tree in the center of town.  Pups were chasing each other around the tree and barking happily.  Next to it was a large hill covered with snow.  I climbed to the top and slid down on my belly.  I picked up another cup of cocoa and went to the ice skating rink.  I joined Gracie Mae, and we skated circles around one another laughing hard.

I had only been up a few hours, but I was tuckered home.  A horse and sled pulled up.  I climbed  aboard and was whisked home.  When I entered my house, the fire was still lit.  I climbed into my warm bed.

I gave thanks for the powers that had decorated and provided so many distractions for us at Christmas time.  It is when we miss our parents the most.  The distractions make the passage of time more enjoyable, and during the holiday season that is a precious gift

River's View From The Table Top

As soon as my parents walk out the door I have only one concern:  When will they return?  It is my job to maintain a vigil until the arrive.

Pocket is no help in this matter.  She is locked in her crate, hiding inside her pyramid kitty condo.  She claims she is locked in there because she is worried about what I might do.  The truth is she cannot be trusted with freedom.

I have to watch for my parents and keep an eye on the property.  I have three windows available.  There are two in the living room.  The one between Mommy’s chair and the lift recliner is the best one for the backyard.  Thankfully, before they leave, my parents remove everything from the table.  Before that, I had to knock everything off the table before climbing on it.  That was time-consuming.

But that view is limited to the birds enjoying the feeder, the occasional tree rat who is scared by my bark which is not proportional to my small body, and whatever our back door neighbors are doing, which is never interesting.

From the couch on the other side of the room I can see my boring neighbor’s house and a bit of the street.  The street view is good because if anything is headed north I can see it, run to the kitchen window, and bark it away.  But it leaves my north flank exposed and anyone who knows me knows that is my most important flank.

So the best vantage point is the kitchen window.  I have two options:  The first is to stand on my back legs with my paws on the sill looking out.  This is very tiring, and, if I shut my eyes I tip over, so I have to go to option two:  The top of the dinner table.

My parents don’t understand how I can jump on the table without skidding off  The answer, of course, is air brakes.  I can see the back yard, up the street, the end of the driveway, and all our gardens.  Anything comes into our yard, or if someone walks by the house, I am there, either to bark them away or to ask them if they know where my parents are.   The people never answer.  The dogs leave pee mail, but I can’t get outside to sniff it.

Finally, my parent's car pulls into the driveway.  They are always looking in the kitchen window, and they see me run across the table top, jump down, go to the window, tip my head back and give a long, loud bark of joy.  Then I go over to the door, and I jump up and down, so high I can see them out the door window until they come inside and give me some reassuring touches.  Then I can relax.

Just remember, if you are invited to my parent's house, you might want to bring a wet wipe.  You never know what has been on their table.

Wordless Thursday