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Showing posts from July, 2010

Bailey don't go

Bailey's Mommy and Daddy are coming for her today and we have to hide her. She loves it here. The rhythm of life in our family is perfect for her. No little kids running around pulling her tail or beautiful fur. No big, clumsy dog slobbering over her. If I didn't know it was sillier than bands I would say that Bailey loved Mommy more than I do. When Mommy is downstairs cleaning the basement, or in the bathroom, Bailey walks around the house moaning like a ghost: "OhhhhhhhhhhwhereareyouMommyooooooohhhhhIdon'twanttonealoneooooohhhhfindme" The other day when Mommy went out Bailey fell asleep on the couch and when she awoke she must have decided we were all in bed. When Mommy got home Bailey was outside our bedroom scratching at the door and begging to be let in. At night she settles in on Mommy's right side, being kept warm by her lap, and the heat for her lap top. I lay on the left side. Pocket lays on the recliner with Daddy. Good enough for

Smoochy is our July 25, 2010 pup or the week

A couple of weeks ago, when I honored our pacifist dogs, I meant to include this week's Pup of the Week Smoochy because I remembered reading a story where Smoochy totally put a pugnacious pooch in it's place. But despite long nights of searching I could not find these postings. I started to wonder, if, at ten, I was beginning to imagine Smoochy posts so he was not included in that week's pup of the week. After I published it Hattie Mae told me that the pacifist posting was on Facebook. Holy tweet Batman! I had been barking up the wrong social network. So I sent my friend Smoochy a message apologizing for not including him as our Pup of the Week. I promised him if he did anything interesting, like farting sideways I would make him Pup of the Week. But Mama Mia he went to such lengths. Instead of breaking wind to the left he grew a giant mast cell tumor on his leg. Geeze, Smooch, there was no need to go to such extremes. On Wednesday his mother found the large

Foley's interview with her cousin Bailey

Foley: I am so excited. For the next week my older cousin Bailey will be here. She is 12. She has a profile on TB under Riley and Bailey. It is not very active. Daddy set it up because the grandgirls wanted to go on Tanner Brigade, but if they went on under our names they could shut down the whole site with just a few clicks. They are very destructive. So, since Bailey is here while her family goes to Wally World, I thought this would give you all a wonderful time to get to know her. So Bailey, how are you? Bailey: I am 12 and tired and miss my Mom. Foley: Great, how excited are you to be here? Bailey: Your Daddy was kind enough to turn two pillows on the couch over for me. I am now lying, cuddled up on them. Foley: What would you be doing if you were home right now? Bailey: I would be sitting on two pillows on the couch lying, cuddled up. Foley: Hmmm. How do you like being here with us? Bailey: I love your Mommy, and I like your Daddy, and you're m

Dr Pocket's surgery plans for Daddy

After reading medical textbooks, searching Wikipedia from top to bottom, and watching five seasons of Grey's Anatomy I called Daddy into my office crate today to give him is diagnosis. Even though I knew what I was going to say, I made him sit crunched up on the other side of my desk, while I looked down at his chart with my half glasses on and one of those light things on my head usually worn by spelunkers. I think Daddy was nervous about his diagnosis because he was drumming his fingers on the floor. It also may have been that he had to twist himself into a pretzel to fit into my office. He asked me for his results but I held up a paw to cut him off and flipped through the last few pages. There was a disagreement in the human doctors diagnosis. One said it was a umbilical hernia. The other said it was a gall bladder. Bur my conclusion was right on point. It was both! "Both?" Daddy said. "What would make you think it was both?" "Please

Fred is our July 18th pup of the week

To find our Pup of the week Pocket and I had to reach across the Universe to the Bridge to honor a friend who crossed over some time ago. We are not honoring him because of what he did this week. We are honoring him for something he did years ago. For helping to make his Mom a wonderful, caring person, who loves all dogs, not just her own. This week Fred's Mom Maria traveled from Argentina to Italy, and not for the normal reason a person would do so, to complete the third leg of the Amazing Race, but to meet another Brigade Mom. She met our friends Paco's Mom at a little cafe in Rome. It is wonderful when our Mom's met. They are the most special people, and they have so much to talk about. Namely: Us. Now Maria loves her Luca and Junior as much as any Mom loves their little puppies. But there is one dog that will always have her heart and that was Fred. As everyone who knew Fred, and all his friends at the Bridge know, don't bother Fred during the Wo

Where Foley discusses her sour stomach and reaches a conclusion on what caused it

What a week we have had. The baby sitting, the wonderful meeting with Ms. Laura and Pokey, you know sometimes a girl just needs to unwind. So Saturday night, after Mommy, Papa and Pocket fell asleep I snuck out the door and went down to my favorite watering hole, Smitty's Pub on Bay Street. I shouldn't go to Smitty's. It's a bit of a rough spot. But when I stroll in everyone yells out "Monstah!" I take my stool at the end of the bar, pull out a cigar, order up a Foleytini, and sit back and enjoy myself a smoke. Of course some Guido came in and thought he could shoot some stick better than me. I let him get up a couple of games, then ran the table, won me some kibble, which I cashed in for some more Foleytinis. I was surprised to see sun light coming through the grimy windows and I staggered home, up the stairs and, after three wobbly tries, was able to jump into bed without my Mom being none the wiser. I am not as young as I used to be, so I spen

Foley and Pocket discuss their adventures in babysitting

Foley: Wow! What a day we had on Thursday, our oldest sister brought our grandbabies over in the morning, and at night we helped Mommy babysit a whole other set of grandbabies. If it wasn't for Pocket yakking all day it would have been perfect. Pocket: I did not yak all day. I yakked maybe once the night before, and I don't know who yakked after that. Foley: Oh it's you, yak, yak yak. You yakked in the bed while we were sleeping then slept on Mommy's head the rest of the night leaving me in the wet spot. You know the puppy rules: You yak in the bed you sleep in it. Pocket: Yes, True. I did yak in the bed and I yakked that morning. It's the heat. I don't like it. Foley: Oh puppy up for heaven sakes! I'm ten years old an I'm out there walking in the heat, a youngster like you should be able to put up with the heat all day. Pocket: Well you yakked on sister number two's rug, in her home, where she sleeps, where her children come

Lovers not fighters: Shiloh and Otis are our pups of the week

We come this week to praise those pups who are lickers not fighters. On three different occasions our Pups of the Week had a chance to fight and chose to turn away from their in born puppy aggression and take the high road, a valuable lesson for all of us. Our first pup is our friend from Washington, the gentle Shiloh. Her Mom and Dad took her for a lovely morning at their neighborhood dog park where like minded dogs were enjoying frolicking in the sunshine. Unfortunately it only takes one little dog to stir up trouble and this one decided to pick a fight with Shiloh. Shiloh got bit on the mouth and neck. But instead of ripping the little whipper snapper to shreds Shiloh retreated to her Mom for some comforting scratches and love. Then there is our man Otis. He was out for a walk with his Mom when another Mom, who obviously should not be allowed to own a pup of her own, had taken her giant bear like dog to walk, without a leash. The big bear dog took off after our visio

Our visit with Ms Laura and Pokey Lunn

This morning Pocket and I thought was going to be just another boring Saturday: Bath, humans eating donuts, us not eating donuts, mysterious poo dropping, bedroom time while Mommy and Daddy go shopping and "dining" then sitting with them when they pass out for over "dining." But today, no, no, no, not today. After donuts and after Mommy put her hair and face on they got our leash, dressed Pocket in her new skirt (OK, yes, Pocket has a skirt. Mommy and Daddy are having her wear it when she has to wear her diaper so she doesn't look as funny. Looks the same to me) and put us on our leash and plopped us in the back of the car. I didn't know where we were going. To one of our sisters? Our brother? Aunt Bev? The groomers? But once we were in the car for more than a half hour I knew we were going somewhere special. Pocket wasn't as clever, stopping to look out the window, bark and whine, whenever we slowed down to 30 MPH. That freaky little box w

Foley's Birthday Party Blog

I would like to thank all the pups who came to my birthday party on Monday. I lapped up so many Foleytinis I can barely remember what happened. It's a good thing we walk on four legs so when we pass out we are not far from the ground. Pocket led me to the birthday area at the Tanner Memorial Dog Park. There was a big banner hanging over the Tanner and Sophie statues that said "Happy Tenth Birthday Foley Monster." In the middle was a beautiful, ornate fountain. I walked over to it and Pocket told me to take a lick. I did, and it was filled with wonderfully cool Foleytinis. I began to lap up quickly but Pocket put a paw on my shoulder and told me to slow down. Then my friends began to arrive. Excuse me if I don't remember all of you, I was deep in my bowls and my memory is fuzzy. I remember Smoochy and MacDougal bringing birthday balloons which are so much more fun then my every day balloons. Blazer taught us how to make Smores, using beef jerky instead o

Savannah and Sage are our July 4th pups of the week

You know what we were able to do this week as a group that we have never been able to do before? Go for a walk: Thanks to a brilliant idea by Sage to help our friend Savannah. This is how two pups, from separate states, separate families, became our pups of the week. One who had a need, and another kind enough to virtually try to fulfill that need. Our friend Savannah has had a leg surgery and now the dogtors wants her to put weight on it. But when she does it hurts. Us dogs don't have much time for pain. We have short lives and we would like to spend it as comfortable as possible. Why put pressure on a fourth leg that hurts when we can get around perfectly on three legs? But Savannah's Mommy is feeling some stress because she wants her baby to be back to normal. While we are the Internet's closest wireless family there is only so much we can do, to give support, prayer, and an occasional big smile. But the brilliance of Sage's idea was that it got

Foley Monster's First Half of 2010 Rap

I have noticed lots of the kids out there now are into this new "rap" or "hip hop" music. I, being the distinguished writer that I am, have decided to dip my hand in the rap or hip hop well. I tell the young pups in my writing class that they should write what they know. So, my first try at writing a rap song will be called" My First Half of 2010 Rap a year that's begun like crap!" It's 2010 and I'm glad it's half way over It's feeling like someone stepped on my four leaf clover It's been so bad, this 2010 Like getting your arm chewed off by not so Gentle Ben It started in winter so cold and dark Every time my whowho hit the ground I had to bark Looked forward to coming into the house all toasty and warm Then the furnace broke left us shivering and in harm Didn't have it for two days, we were all going to freeze To keep warm Mommy and Daddy wore us Yorkies on their knees Finally the furnace came to keep us warm

Paging Dr. Pocket, Dr. Pocket Dog Pocket

Well after a difficult night I think Pocket and I have come upon some good fortune. It started Saturday. We went to the groomers to be made beautiful..(I have no idea why they pay people to make us beautiful. It just happens.) While we were being groomed they went out to eat. They picked us up, we went home, we napped, and then the trouble began. First Daddy began to play the smelly trumpet out of his butt. Then he began to lollipop and moan. Pocket and I did not pay much attention. We thought it was his regular Saturday night whining. Then, while watching Dr. Who (Spoiler alert: Van Gogh still dies in the end) he was on the floor breathing slowly with his stomach distended like he was about to have a litter and complaining that he had a dozen Matildas romping on his chest. Mommy wanted to take him to this hospital. Daddy wanted to go to bed. I wanted to go to bed. Pocket wanted to lick her fluffy. By noon the next day it was only Pocket who would be truly satisfied.