The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

One of the greatest attributes a pup can have is loyalty. Loyalty makes us do things without thinking: Like charging at larger dogs who threaten our Mom; or barking at huge humans in our doorway who may be entering our home without permission; or staying with our parents when they have broken their leg while reaching the mountain summit even though a blizzard is due (this has happened to me twice.) But I have never seen loyalty like one of our members has shown this autumn. She had been a valued member of Princess’ castle. But when the politics there began to turn against common dogs like us, she was the first one to be chased out. She was very disrespected by some less trained dogs, her feelings were hurt, and we all lost a fantastic friend. During our brief stay in our temporary home she joined us again, but a bad dog chased her away. It took a lot of persistent pleading to get her to join the Tanner Brigade, but when she did we became complete as a group. When she le

As some of our Facebook friends are aware two of the gifts that my Mommy gave, to daughter #1, and to Daddy’s Mommy, were pictures drawn by Zoe Boe’s immensely talented Mom with the aid of the able bodied Zoe, and her expertise in coloring and shading. She had to do them quickly. My parents sent the pictures she did the drawings from to the wrong e-mail address, so if you received pictures of a Shih Tzu and an elderly couple standing on a hill in Wolfeboro New Hampshire please delete. She got them, did a marvelous job getting them ready in time, and put them in the US Mail paying an extra rate so they would get here post haste. Every day we checked the mailbox, and while there were wonderful things there, cards from the beautiful Lambies, from Tanner’s Mom, from Roland’s Mom, there still wasn’t the anticipated artwork. Mommy and Zoe Boe’s Mom exchanged e-mails and finally she sent Zoe out to track it. As we all know Zoe is a brilliant tracker, and on Christmas Eve she sent us

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a Pocket peeing on the floor On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea and Ashton Three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five Hattie Maes Four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea and Ashton Three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the sixth day of Christmas my true love game to me six Hobo Hudson blogs Five Hattie Maes Four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea

It is time for the unveiling of the Foley Monster and Pocket official Christmas picture. OK everyone settle down. I know, it’s like the lighting of the Rockerfeller Center Christmas Tree or the erecting of the National Festivus Pole, but let me give you a little background first. At this point of our posing we had been photographed about 600 times. You cannot tell, because it did not appear in the picture, but there were tiny puffs of steam coming out my ears. I was tired and wanted a lap. When I am in the thralls of lap withdrawal I am six pounds of ferocious hell, my friends. As for Pocket, never has a dog looked so resigned, so forlorn. She had tried it all, looking left, looking right, pouting, bringing sexy back; nothing pleased our camera obsessed parents. She laid her head on the blanket. The expression on her face was simple defeat. The antlers had been strapped to her head for more than an hour. They could have attached a ball gag and the humiliation needle woul

'Twas the five days before Christmas, when all through the brigade Pocket and Foley were picking a puppy to parade They needed a pup of the week so pretty and fair, Whose wonderfulness to all was very rare; The other pups were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of Snasauges danced in their heads; And Pocket in her neckkerchief, and I in my bandana, Were munching on Mommy’s antipasto platter, Our arguments over pup of the week usually raise a clatter, This week we agreed so nothing was the matter. We agreed on who to pick in a flash, Then went through the cupboards looking for suckatash. We saw the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow And hoped before we had to wee it would find somewhere to go Unlike the sky our pick for pup of the week was clear, It is a Miracle Maltese we all hold dear, What a little old pup, so lively and quick, Our pup is holding strong even though he’s been sick. His name is Morgan, he’s our Miracle Maltese He’s the first to

This morning when the alarm went off Daddy got up and looked out the window and let out a big groan. Mr. Winter had left a bunch of deep and cold snow outside. While Pocket and I burrowed further down the covers, and Mommy rolled over and pulled them tighter, Daddy put on his clothes, his coat, his gloves, his hat, his booties, (big Kitty, Pocket and I go out in our everyday wear) and then went outside to dig us out a spot to pee and Vick. We woke up an hour later and silly Daddy had not come back in the house yet. This was so aggravating. We sent Pocket down to see what the delay was. She ran downstairs, looked out the window, then went back to the bed to tell us he was laying in the snow making snow angels. Mommy was so mad. Just like Daddy to be playing when there was work to do. Mommy put on a robe and a jacket and we all went down stairs in a grumpy huff. I jumped on the back of the couch and said "I don't know if Daddy is making snow angels because he's n

Dear: Santa Hi Santa, it’s me, Foley Monster. How have you been? I’m doing well. I have had an excellent year. We formed the Tanner Brigade, defeated the terrible Princess, and gave dogs the freedom to bark across the land. How about you? Still doing that good child, bad child, passing out the toys crap? Well I guess that’s cool. At least you have steady work. Hope you worked out the health care issue with the elves. I hope you don’t have too much melting up at the North Pole. I know you like the Artic because no one can get there. If all the ice melts then it will become a tourist trap and you’ll never get anything done. If that happens and you need to move I suggest the Jersey Shore. Nobody wants to go there. Just don’t hire an elf named The Situation. This year I am going to mix things up a little bit. Instead of a long list of what I want I am going to ask you for some things for my friends. So get your fountain pen and parchment, or blackberry, and get ready

Hobo: Good evening: I am Hobo Hudson and welcome to Tanner Brigade Tonight TVTB’s look at the issues of the day. Our guest this evening is Independent candidate for Massachusetts Senate Pocket Q. Rocket. Welcome Ms. Rocket. Pocket: Thank you for having me this evening Hobo. I am looking forward to your questions. Hobo: Pocket, you live in the city of Taunton MA. Recently an eight year old boy was sent home from school and not allowed to come back unless he underwent a psychological exam for drawing this picture: The boy claimed it is a picture of Christ on the cross. Do you support the school system’s stance? Pocket: Absolutely. Just look at this picture. That’s the worst Christ on the cross I have ever seen. It looks like that girl Cathy from the Funny Papers being water boarded. If you allow outwork that bad to be in the classroom where does it end? You’ve got to figure out why this kid sucks so bad at drawing and make sure it doesn’t happen. Excuse me, I t

Despite my using all the tools at my disposal, calling in all favors owed to me, and promising more than I will be able to repay, my parents still made it into Boston Sunday night to her the Dog Whisperer. While Mommy and Daddy were preparing to go I hacked on to the security system for the Agganis Arena at Boston University. I sent out the following e-mail: “To all parking staff: Only admit one car at a time on to the lot. Only allow cars who have pre-paid with their credit card and have a printed out ticket park in the lot. Do not check to see if they have the ticket until they’re in the lot, and if they don’t have a ticket hold up the line as the car does a six point turn to get out of the lot and back on the street. Please take up to five minutes arguing/explaining the situation while others wait. Thank you.” Then I looked at the weather report: Chance of showers. Well this would not do. I downloaded myself to Rainbow Bridge and convinced Tanner to meet with the weat

There are several customs that humans observe that make little sense to me. One of them is to wait until a loved one passes to Rainbow Bridge before they tell pay tribute to them. We dogs prefer to let our feelings known before the bus to the bridge comew calling. So that is why we have chosen the wonderful, smart, powerful and loyal Apollo Shultz as our Pup of the Week. Poor Apollo got some very bad news this week: Pancreatic cancer. It’s a one-way ticket to the Bridge, and we can hope, and pray, but there’s not much we can do about it. As always Apollo took the news bravely and stoically. His concern was with his Mom and family. He knows he will be fine. Our friends at the Bridge at waiting for him, ready to run free, to play, and to live without interference from any mean humans. Apollo’s main concern is, of course, his family. He hasn’t asked for us to worry about him, but only to take care of his Mom, Shakira and Ace. This summer, when his crazy neighbors tr

I, Foley, have received some news that has Pocket and I very concerned. It came up shortly after another photo session. Pocket and I were talking while they scrolled through the pictures about how our parents couldn’t be more annoying: And then came the news, which will drive their annoying tenancies to unimaginable levels. Tomorrow night my Mommy and Daddy have tickets to go to the Agganis Center at Boston University to listen to the propaganda of the man known to humans as the Dog Whisperer and known to dogs as He Who Shall Not be Whispered. I have worked nine years of my life to train my parents to understand that I am the Pack Leader, that the couch and the chairs are mine, that when we walk I lead, that I do not come when called; I prefer to screen my calls and come when it is only necessary; and if I bark they are to be summoned immediately. Now this illegal immigrant is going to ruin it for everyone. I know, he’s legal now, as much of a citizen as you and I, but I sti

Puppies and Lollipops thank you for awarding me the prestigious Nobel Pup Prize. I would like to thank all of those who supported me in winning this award, and for those of you who thought I have not accomplished enough to earn this award well they can stroke my hairy tail. As I stand here, where so many other prestigious winners have stood, it makes me feel connected to them, like former Vice President Al Gore, who helped me spread the word by inventing the Internet, and taught me to be more tolerant of my sister, who, like Al Gore claiming to invent the Internet, is so full of Vick it’s spilling out on the floor. Many of you ask how a dog, that uses the alias the General, could win a prize that is associated with peace, after sending several dogs on a raid into an armed castle. But we did it to give all dogs freedom to bark, and some times you need to fight to be free. I have so many to thank for this award. My Mommy and Daddy, who, if you met them, you would realize they are soci

Hi, Pocket here. Ssshhh! I don’t want my Mommy and Daddy to know where I am. No, I didn’t do anything silly like my sweet friends Roland and Savannah and go on the lam, I don’t even know any lambs, except for Lamb Chop, and I always found her to have a hand up her butt. No, I’m hiding because I thought I saw Mommy with the camera. I don’t want to have my picture taken anymore. I’m like Suri Cruise. But cute. I know you heard Foley’s version of our earlier tries at picture taking. We don’t agree often, but when Mommy’s and Daddy’s are picture happy even the most cantankerous of sisters need to stand together and squint at the bright light that keeps FLASHING! FLASHING! FLASHING! Look, I’m a good dog. I have my faults: Confusing the bathroom and living room, barking at the wind, accepting PAC money during my campaign, but I try to do the right thing. But I do not want to be wearing what I am wearing in the picture anymore. Now I am going to show you the picture but y

Well Pocket and I firmly entrenched ourselves in opposite camps when deciding this week’s Pup of the Week. But, as always in disagreements within in the Brigade, I sought out, and received, the sage advice of Tanner Bub at the bridge and he solved our problems in his usual reasoned and fair manner. I do understand that Pocket had several excellent reasons to dispute my candidate. First of all, he is not a member of the Brigade, although his family is, and the way I see it, if you have a family member in the Brigade, then you’re in the Brigade. Secondly, this pup is at the Bridge, and while you can certainly be the Pup of the Week at the Bridge, Pocket argued there was a more qualified member. Well, I must admit, that I got myself into both a huff and a snit. I huffed and snitted around the house all day. That night I decided to seek out the sage advice of my friend Tanner. I downloaded myself up to the Bridge and the pups were so happy to see me: There was Teddy, and Sophie

Well my loving slope-nosed parents annual exercise in futility occurred exactly on schedule this year as they tried to pose my squiggly sister and I in our yearly Christmas card photo. It would have been personally more enjoyable to me, and reached the same conclusion, if they had joined hands and banged their heads against the wall. This year their artistic vision led them to place us on the bed. Our bed! Where we sleep! Where our children come and play with their toys! Now I am very used to having my photo taken, being absolutely precious and everything. But Pocket, she’s not so much a fan of having her picture taken. She trembled so much on the bed I thought someone slipped a quarter in her butt to make it vibrate. Now personally I think we rocked those pictures. We laid down on command, we looked right in the camera, we were beautiful. But then Mom-“Annie Leibovitz”-my announced she did not like the headboard as a background. Didn’t like the headboard? She’s been sl

Late Thursday night I had Turkey belly and couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t supposed to go on the Internet after the whole sneaking into the White House State Dinner thing, but Mommy was sleeping off the wine and Daddy was sleeping off the beating Mommy gave him so I decided to see my friends online. The first message I got was from my friend Tiger in Florida. He asked me if I wanted to go with him to a Best Buy near his home, buy the new version of Mario Brothers for Nintendo Wii, and play all day. A Friday hanging out with Tiger and playing Wii! Cool! I hopped on the computer and downloaded myself to his big, fancy house. I jumped out his computer while he was putting golf balls into a champagne flute. “Foley my main dog!” he said smiling at me, “you ready to get a Wii and play some Mario?” “You bet,” I said as I ran out the door into the warm Florida air and jumped on to the passenger’s seat of his SUV. Tiger hopped in, we strapped ourselves in like Batman and Robin, and Tiger

Some weeks Foley and I have to debate about who will be our Pup of the Week but this week it was simple. This pup spent her Thanksgiving working on our site. Her initial efforts were stymied by the Ning elves but she would not be denied. She used her big, beautiful brain, and now, we have smiles everywhere, on our comments, on our replies, in our personal messages, everywhere. We like to think that the Tanner Brigade is the best dog social network site on the Internet made up of the best dogs. One of the things that make it so special is all the smiles and there is one pup we have to thank for that. So for giving us our smiles back, and for always being there whenever we become confused about the series of tubes that is the Internet, Erin is our pup of the week. Congratulations Erin on a job well done.

Of all the embarrassing situations my sister has got me into last weekend was the worst. I should have known, given the problems Foley caused when she nipped the kitty, and the current administration’s pressuring me to abandon my independent run for Massachusetts Senate since I will not support a universal health care bill that does not include dogs, that we were not invited to a State Dinner. But Foley insisted we were. Since she is an administer of a web site she has been given the codes to travel through the series of tubes which is the Internet and can pop up anywhere that has an Internet hook up. Because there are many such computers at the White House she insisted our access to the dinner would be a snap. The actual invitation though, that proved to be a problem. We went to the Groomer and Foley told her about the State Dinner and she laughed and scratched her head and told her she had the best stories. Foley huffed and spent the rest of her grooming in a snit. As for me, I

On Monday we had a good day because Mommy couldn’t go to work because her blood sugar was high and she had to go to the doctor, so for most of the day we spent snuggled with her on the couch, until she had to go to the doctor, who told her the rise in blood sugar was due to stress. You know how to cure stress? Sit with two Yorkies in a recliner. Then Daddy came home, and he was sitting on the couch, and Mommy was telling her about her day, when a door slammed outside, and Pocket went nuts, jumping up and down, barking and crying. Daddy looked over his shoulder and said, “we’re being invaded.” I jumped on the back of the couch, and there was daughter #2 and granddaughters #3 and #5. Now I love all the grandchildren, I do, but I prefer #1 because we’ve grown up together, and #2, because she’s a sweetheart, and they know how to stroke and pet a puppy. But #3 and #5, well one of them is fairly new, and one of them is almost brand new, she’s walking new, but new, and they tend to trea

First, some business to take care of: There have been some Internet problems on all sites lately, I know those who use Facebook are having a terrible times with gifts and other applications. I know many of you have experienced problems here on Tanner Brigade and we are doing what we can. If your blog posts twice, you can delete one of the posts without deleting the others. I deleted some double posts last night, but left the ones that had been modified, like Hobo’s blog where a photo was added, or duplicate blogs that each had a comment. Foley is going into cyberspace for a mass meeting of social network groups to figure out a solution. If she pops out of your computer please put a stamp on her forehead and send her to us. Now, for this week’s Pup of the Week: This is one of our sweetest little dogs. He knows how to take care of his Mom. When Mom had a bad back, this pup knows the best medicine: to sit with her and give her sweet loving. Despite giving his Mom round the cl

This is an excerpt from Pocket’s soon to be released best selling book “Going Rougff.” When I announced my candidacy for the Senate people who were tired of “the same old political games” came to visit me to help with my candidacy. First they began to shuffle through my outwear. I was told my buffs, bandanas and jackets were not stylish enough (even my Tanner Brigade bandanna) for a candidate to wear. They wanted to go to a stuffy English dog store and buy me expensive, designer clothes. I called Hattie Mae and she told me that my clothing was beautiful, and to snarl at, and bite them. But I can’t snarl and bite anyone, so Foley did it. Then they sent in another consultant who recommended a tail extension, contact lenses to make my eyes blue, and a weave to wear so, instead of going out in public sporting my usual puppy cut, I would go out in a show cut with all my “hair” sweeping the floor. I talked with my groomer, Jen, from Groomingdales in Lakeville MA, and she said the

Well this was a tough week to pick our Pup of the Week. Pocket and I spent most of the day discussing the candidates. We are very worried about our friends Pepsi and Ladybug. We are praying they are going to be fine. Also our hearts are breaking for Roland and Savannah who lost their beloved kitty Oreo. Pocket kept coming back to one of her favorite candidate, a Yorkie with a bad tummy who is running for Senator. I had to keep saying “Pocket that’s you.” She kept saying “Who is you?” I said “I’m Foley,” and then we’d go around again in a big mess like the Cowboys offense. But we finally settled on a pup for several reasons. (1) Her Mom did a wonderful thing; (2) while she may not have realized what a wonderful gift she has received I’m sure she will soon; (3) We chose the older of the two pups because she has had lots of change in her life recently. So, our pup of the week is Josie the Grouch. (This also dovetails nicely with the 40th anniversary of Sesame Street.)

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all my wonderful friends who have sent me the warmest get-well wishes over the last week. Each one has made me feel a little bit better. I am still on my bland mostly rice diet, and I do not like it at all, but Mommy gets so concerned when I don’t eat that I scoff it down. Plus it is supposed to firm up my Vicks. Daddy says rice is the main staple of many culture. I seriously doubt that’s true. I checked Wikipedia and no country has a gross national product of excellent poo. I so miss regular food. Friday night I was in position on the couch, and began to bark when the pizza guy arrived, but, when Daddy went outside, the pizza guy told Daddy it was the wrong order and had to go back to the pizza store. Then I had to get back on the couch and stare out the window, do the barking thing all over again, and I did not even get a taste! Man! You telling me they couldn’t order rice pizza? I haven’t had the rumbly tumblies since I b

AP (Affenpinscher Press) TAUNTON MA: Massachusetts Senatorial candidate Pocket Gay may have to abandon her independent candidacy after a bout of stomach unrest has made her and her family question if the stress of the campaign is too much for her delicate intestinal system. Pocket first become stricken on Sunday night after spending a typical Sabbath of chasing balls, eating bacon, laying on laps, and strategizing with her campaign manager Foley Monster. Ms. Monster said that they were all enjoying a meal of hamburgers and soup when Pocket left Liquid Vick on the rug behind her Mommy’s chair. It was at that time that Mommy put her on a chicken and rice diet. Steve Pagliuca, Democratic candidate for Senator, and managing partner of the Boston Celtics, questioned exactly why a candidate for a major office would live with, and take direction from, someone called Mommy insinuating that Pocket was not experienced enough to gain the seat. Ms Monster countered that Pagliuca signed Ste

Guess what Pocket and I did today? We went to the assisted living center to visit Auntie Bev! We haven’t seen her since she had her stroke and went to live in the nursing home. We knew she was sick and each night when we said our prayers at the foot of the bed we prayed for her to get better and guess what? She has gotten better. She now has her own nice big room with a private bathroom. She has some pictures from home on her bureau, a nice painting her daughter did on her wall, some books, a TV, everything you could want. And she is very happy, of course she was even happier to see the two of us. Daddy carried Pocket in while I went with Mommy. Daddy’s Daddy was there. It was nice to see him. Mommy doesn’t get along sometimes with Daddy’s parents. I don’t know why all I know is they’re wrong. But I wanted to thank him because he is a veteran and it is veteran’s day. He spent time in a prison in Italy. It was during the Korean War. He was a really bad solider and inv

Pocket and I have decided that it would be really cool if each week we awarded one of our dogs the title “Pup of the Week.” We are going to be looking for a pup who did something special that week, or had something bad happen to them, illness or accident, and either the pup or their family need a little pick me up. There isn’t going to be any set rules about what you can do to win, and can’t do, to win. Pocket and I are going to go through the blogs and comments during the week and pick a winner. We will try to spread the wealth a little, we don’t want the same dog winning six times a year, unless they’re a very special dog, but we can’t promise everyone will win either. As always we will do our Yorkie best. Unfortunately there is no prize for being Pup of the Week except the love and respect of your fellow dogs, and the recognition of your achievements, which, I am sure, is prize enough for our friends. So for this week, the inaugural winner of the Tanner Brigade Pup of t

For the past two weeks the laptop I use to run the Brigade and do my blogs has been acting erratically because of a frayed power cord. I sent Mommy and Daddy to Best Buy two weeks ago. I had purchased the protection plan with the computer so all I needed them to do was get a new cord. Well, sometimes I think I need to talk to Hobo about hiring some cats because they didn’t come home with a cord, they came home with a slip, saying they would send a cord in five to ten business days. I didn’t get angry. It was my fault. You can’t send a human to do a dog’s job. On Thursday my laptop just stopped working, but Daddy said it would be fine, that the new cord had come in. I ripped open the box, pulled out the cord, and it was the wrong one! I dropped the improper cord at his feet, and stormed into the fuzzy condo where I spent half the night. On Friday Daddy dressed me in a business suit and took me to work with him, saying I was an exchange student from Guam, and allowed me to s

When I was a pup and first came to live with Mommy and Daddy there was already a dog here, the much beloved Blake Bear. Blake was a Shih Tzu who could have been Gracie’s Mom. Every time I see that pretty baby she reminds me so much of Sister Blake. She taught me so much. Everything I know about being a dog I learned from Blakesie. She only stayed with Mommy and Daddy a little over five years, a much too short time, but there were mountains of stories she accumulated over that time, and, with no puppy sites to blog them on, she just barked them down to me. This is one of my favorites: You may not believe this, but the first pet that Mommy and Daddy had was a Siamese cat named Gizmo. Now don’t think too poorly of them. They were young and in love and susceptible to making grievous errors, thankfully none of them involved breeding. Gizmo was a good kitty, but as he got older, he got meaner. He would hide behind furniture and jump out clawing at anyone who had the poor sense

Foley: Well, as our loyal followers know, I have free run of our bedroom while Pocket is confined to her crate during the day. Well today Pocket took this big Vick right in front of the TV in the bedroom and let me tell you, it smelled very nasty and I was disgusted. Pocket: Excuse me. If you know our history, and read the above paragraph you’ll know that I was, and usually am, in the crate when Mommy is away, so I could not possibly have left the unidentified Vick in the house. Mom: I got home from a miserable day at work where I didn’t even get a lunch break and I walk in the front door and said “Oh Mama” then hurried up the stairs to see what Pocket had done in her crate. Pocket: Really? That’s what your first thought was? What Pocket had done in her crate? Really. Mom: I opened the door and sweet fancy Moses there was the Vick lying on the floor and I looked down at my precious Monster and said “Foley, what did you do?” Foley: I looked up with my deep brown eyes