Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: RIver and the Angry Monkey

 

Pocket and I are blessed with classic Yorkie faces. When our faces are at rest, the hair by our mouth curves upward, giving the appearance we are smiling.

Our sister, River, is the opposite. She is a Griffon, and her mouth is frozen in a downturn. She has lived her life with a resting bitch face.

This doesn’t mean that Pocket and I are always happy, or that River is perpetually angry. 

But sometimes our personality becomes our face.

Especially when we see it reflected in another.

Two days ago we awoke to see a monkey sitting on a rock. It seemed an ordinary simian, but it had, like River, a resting bitch face.

I walked outside and asked if I could help him.  

“That would be nice, I’ve been sitting here all morning. I am  here to see River  Song, because I have a resting bitch face, and she is our queen.’”

That was all that River needed more delusions to feed her grandeur. 

I woke her up, which is always a risky proposition. Whoever first said to let sleeping dogs lie was a Griffon owner. River groaned and said she didn’t want to get up, but a frowning monkey on a rock piqued her curiosity.

River walked outside, and the monkey stood up. “At last the one who understands what it is like to spend all day frowning.”

River put a paw on the monkey's leg to calm him. “You have to look at your face as a blessing. Souls like her,” she gestured to me dismissively  “have to be happy all the time. It must be exhausting. But we frowners can be in a bad mood from dust ‘til dawn, which is much easier.  No one forced themselves to act angry, but being happy is work.

I was going to tell River that it was an oversimplification of my emotions but she struck a chord. 

Was I trying to be happy all the time? Sometimes I am grumpy too. But no one takes me seriously, Damn this resting happy face.

I listened to Ruby and the monkey happily complaining about their existence at the Bridge. They did not have to guard their words. It was blissful.

Pocket came outside and I asked if she was ever in a bad mood,

“Why would I, with a face like mine, what is there to  be unhappy about?”

Now I was jealous of both my sisters, Pocket for being innocent, and River for being grumpy.

Nowadays being happy and smart doesn’t pay. 

:

The. Ruby Rose Report; Green beans, Green beans, freaking Green beans

I have been trying to do two things simultaneously, lose weight, and not eat any less.

The word my groomer used to describe me was a “little chunky.” She got neither a tip, nor a good review on “YIP” the dog social media site.

She said if part of my food was replaced with green beans I would shed the needed pound of two in no time.

I have never eaten green beans. I wasn’t sure if I would like them. So, I visited my angel sisters for advice.

“I had the same problem,” River said, “and I got fed green beans, which I thought were great. I lost weight and got to eat more food.”

“I didn’t like them,” Pocket said. “They were gross, slimy, and smelled bad. It turned my digestion into a big green puddle, which looked like kryptonite, and caused Superman to send an email to us saying he considered our house a no fly zone.”

“I wouldn’t eat them,” Foley said. “Like a high priced escort I am careful about what I put in my mouth, but you shouldn’t care. You eat your own poop.”

So what? When you eat poop you just digest it without putting on any weight. It is a guilt free snack (unless you are shamed when eating poop). I told my sisters that I didn’t think I needed to lose weight.

“Parents worry about having  fat pooch,” Foley explained. “They are worried that people will think they are bad parents if they are seen walking a fat dog.” I inquired why. “Because they think people who walk a fat dog are bad parents.”

“It works the same way with us.” River said. “Whenever I see a dog walking with a fat parent, I tell them to keep pulling so their humans get their exercise.”

“Before a human invests in a no pull collar they should check out their ass. The dog could be pulling to keep their parents from dropping dead, and the dog homeless.”

I could have listened to them all night but morning came, and I got my first few green beans.

I took one taste and spit it out. Vile weed. They tried to chop it, dice it, mince it, and hide it in meat, but it stuck out like toe clippings in a salad. After one meal they gave up.

I guess I am going to have to walk more.

It would help if my parents became fat, then I would be walking to save them.

Or they could chase after me with a jar of green beans.

Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

     WILBUR COULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE HAD READ

$1,000 FOR WHOEVER COULD EAT A THREE POUND BURGER WITH A SIDE OF BRED

WILBUR RAN ACROSS THE LAWN COVERING MOST OF HIS SPREAD

HE REACHED THE PADDOCK AND CALLED TO MR. ED.

“ED, IF YOU EAT A THREE POUND BURGER WE WILL GET CASH I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT"

THEN GOT WILBUR’S SADDLE, AND ON IT HE DID SIT

HE RODE INTO THE RESTAURANT, ORDERED THE THREE POUND BURGER BUT DID OMIT

THAT ED WOULD BE EATING THE BURGER AND WILBUR WOULD TAKE THE AWARD BY USING HIS WIT

WILBUR SCOFFED DOWN THAT BURGER IN TWO MINUTES FLAT

AND WILBUR DEMANDED THE MONEY, UNLIKE A DIPLOMAT

AND THEN BEGAN A TERRIBLE SPAT

WILBUR SAID THERE WERE  NO RULES BARRING A HORSE FROM THE CONTEST AND THAT WAS THAT

 THE OWNER DECIDED THE HORSE WINNING A CONTEST WOULD BE GOOD PUBLICITY

MAYBE THEY COULD CREATE A COMMERCIAL CAMPAIGN, HORSES EAT FOR FREE

WHEN THEY TOLD WILBUR HE HAD WON HE YELLED YIPPEE

JUMPED IN THE AIR THEN FELL DOWN IN A PUDDLE OF ED’S PEE

TWO MEN STOOD OVER WILBUR LOOKING DOWN WHILE

ON THE BAR AS A  HALF EATEN THREE POUND SANDWICH AND THERE WAS NO HORSE AROUND

WILBUR HAD BEEN YELLING ABOUT THE SANDWICH, AND HIS HORSE:  HE COULD BE HEARD ACROSS TOWN

AND HE KEPT TALKING ABOUT HIS HORSE - HE WAS A SAD DRUNK, A PITIFUL CLOWN

LOOKING THROUGH A WINDOW WILBUR WATCHED HIS SAD FRIEND

WILBUR’S KEEPING A SECRET ABOUT HIS TALKING ABILITY HAD DRIVEN WILBUR AROUND THE BEND

WILBUR’S BOASTS ABOUT THE TALKING HORSE. AND ED’S SILENCE MADE DRINKING ALL NIGHT HIS NEW TREND

AT THE END OF THIS POEM WILBUR COULD ONLY SHAKE HIS HEAD AND SAY “THE END.:

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat this caption

Sadly, Woody called the dog Bullseyee one took many times and even with a new sewing machine Andy’s mom could not repair him

Monday question

What do your parents hate to clean the most?

Poop?

Pee?

Puke?

Something you caught?

Defluffed toys

Some else?

Ruby's answer: My Mommy doesn't like cleaning poop, Our floors are slanted at a little poop can make a mighty river.

Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: 20 Years Ago She Chased a Squirrel Up a Tree and Now She's Being Sued

 

I am a very important judge here at Rainbow Bridge. I have taken an oath to uphold justice. So good did I end up the defendant in a suit filed against me for actions I took on the mortal side,

I was served with a summons by a timid chipmunk. I took it into my house and opened it. “I am being sued,” I announced, shocked.

“Is it because you used to eat my food?” Pocket asked, and I said it was not. “Is it because you used to bite me when someone approached us?” Annoyed, I said no.” Is it because you used to kick me out of the warm spot in the bed because you wanted it?” she asked

As I had often done, I ran out of patience with my sister, and snapped at her: “Why would someone sue me for things I did for you?” 

“Maybe they were just being nice,” she said.

I slightly growled then remembered my anger workshops and went to my happy place which was under the bed covers in a warm spot while Pocket shivered in the cold spot. Once subdued, I read the complaint: “In or about the 29th of August in 2009 I was gathering nuts on the grounds of the Taunton State Hospital when a dog, the plaintiff, chased me causing me to lose my nuts, The incident affected me so much I was afraid to get down from my tree, and it hastened my departure to Rainbow Bridge. Signed Sidney the Squirrel.”

A picture was included. I told: Pocket I had never seen the squirrel before. She turned the picture around to show Sidney’s tail and butt. Now I remembered. “Sure, I chased him, but I chased a lot of squirrels. There is no reason to make a federal case of it,” When I saw the hearing would be in squirrel court, and my fate was in the paws of tree rats, I knew I would have to present the case of my life.

I asked Pocket to go as my witness to say that we both chased squirrels. Sidney put on a compelling case and whenever I objected the monkey judge threw feces at me. Then it was my turn. I put Pocket on the stand and she surprised me by saying she was the one who chased Sidney. The squirrel could not identify which one of us did the chasing, and we all looked the same to him. The idea of being rewarded with my riches was stymied by Pocket’s testimony that she had no riches, just what was on her, and offered the squirrel a ham sandwich she had been saving. Reluctantly, Sidney took it.

When we got outside I thanked my little sister and told her I owed her one, which was a mistake, because there was only one thing Pocket wanted.

For the next six hours, deep into the night, under the moonlight, (the serious moonlight) I stood in the middle of Doggyspace Park and threw the ball to her for six hours until she was exhausted and happy.

Next time I am paying off the squirrels.