The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

Once again this week's Pup of the Week nomination lead to a disagreement between me and Pocket.  Pocket wanted to nominate the dog Secret Bub who has been sending presents to everyone.  While the Secret Bub has certainly been the center of the Tanner Brigade universe I don't know who this Bub is and I am going to have to do more research on them before I bestow this generous, yet mysterious pup our most highly esteemed honor. No, this week we pick a dog who is going through what we all fear the most.  Missing our Mom. Our good friend Buddy Boy has been without his Mom for awhile now.  He doesn't really know why she's not living with them.  From what I can tell reading my Mom's Facebook page his Mommy is sick because of their house.  Now my Mom is sick of our house, but it isn't making her sick.  I don't know my Human well enough to tell the difference, all I know is Mommy is here with me and Buddy Boy's isn't. Poor Buddy Boy is st

When I was a wee pup my big sister Blake used to take me on adventures.  I'm sure being an inexperienced pup I got us into some troubling situations.  But I don't think I have ever got into more trouble then after Pocket became my sister.  I joined DS just after Pocket became part of our family. Many of you who have read my blogs there, and followed me to Blogger,  then the Tanner Brigade, and have read about all of our adventures.  But I don't think I have ever undertaken such a fool hardy endeavour as when Pocket decided we had to save that miserable skunk. It started one cold night after the first snow.  Pocket likes to go with Daddy when he takes out the trash.  I don't know why.  Young pups like trash.  She usually walks with Daddy.  But with the snow, salt, and ice,  Daddy carries her in one arm and the trash in the other.  It was very dark and the only light came from the few working lamp posts.  Daddy heard it before he saw it, the scratching aga

I would like to tell you all that I remember every blog you have all written.  Of course, no one can.  Not even humans.  Humans stand in bookstores studying the back covers of books trying to determine if they have read these 440 pages before.  But there are certain blogs:  Moses, Tanner, and others going to the bridge that stick with you, plus some very special stories.  One such story concerns one of the members of the Pack the make up our Pups of the Week:  The Malatesta Clan. Wishbone was rescued from a hunter who found him worthless because he was not a good hunting dog.  Well, the Pack's Mom, Ms. Paula, had a different plan, and she rescued Wishbone from that bad man.   But Wishbone, being a free spirit, made a run for it one day.  Ms. Paula was heartbroken.  But she never gave up hunting down this hound.  On a Sunday, leaving church, she saw Wishbone, ran after him, tackled him, and rolled down a hill with him, holding on, then safely got him in the car an

Wednesday afternoon we had a house showing at 5:30.  Mommy was going to be at the hairdressers which left Daddy home.  This was worrisome enough.  But our realtor thinks that we are a distraction when she is showing the house.  That I can believe.  We are the most beautiful part of he house.  We promised to be good.  Then Daddy got the mail. Our secret Bub gifts had arrived.  "Open it.  Open it.  Open it.  Open it.  Open it," we barked.  But Daddy said no.  I was in a snit.  I planned my revenge.   Ten minutes before the showing I took a giant shadoobie on the dining room floor.  Seldom alert Daddy saw it an cleaned it up, so there wasn't much payoff to my bang bang.  But I think my point was made.  The realtor and the potential buyers came in and Pocket and I acted very responsibly.  We don't know if the woman is going to make an offer on the house.  We just wanted it made clear we weren't part of the deal.  As soon as she was gone we hopped

From the desk of Pocket Dog: I am a trembler and I am not afraid to admit it.  When it appears that Mommy and Daddy will be going out I start to tremble.  One of them will see me, and sometimes they will pick me up, whisper to me, and try to calm me, but it does no good, I continue to tremble.  Even Foley tells me not to worry, they always come back to us, but even wise Foley, behind those dark brown eyes, betrays her worries.  Shortly over a week ago, in Arizona, a Mom or Dad picked up their trembling dog and told him or her they would be home soon, they were just going down the street to see their Congresswoman speak at the supermarket, and they'd be right home.  That pup is still waiting for the parent to return. So I understand that Moms and Dads want to come back home to us.  But they can't control what happens to them when they go out that door.  And that scares me.  A lot. Recently Hobo's Mom wrote an article about how Moms and Dads should mak

Our friends Freddy Girl and Sota lost their Mom and there were no provisions to find home for them.  Here is the story of how social networking found them new homes http://www.nbcchicago.com/shows/newstoday/Social_Media_Helps_Find_Dogs_New_Homes_Chicago-113867714.html#ixzz1BJ8oRpLM

Some of us pups have very important events occur in our lives:  illness, parent's illness, natural disasters, near unnatural disaster, some do remarkable feats with their parents to help other pups or humans; some show great compassion; and some leave us for the bridge. But then there are the dogs who are consistent.  No highs.  No lows.  They stay on an even keel.  Every day they are consistent in one thing:  They are there with a helpful paw, through thick and thin, illness and health.  They are like every paws older sibling, in this case, older brother. That is why we gather here today to recognize the big brother to us all, Hobo Hudson. Hobo is an American success story.  Born to a family of uncaring humans he was left tied to a tree for the early part of his life.  Each day he was passed by a gentleman.  Hobo gave his best poor, poor, pitiful me look until the man brought him into their home and they became best friends.  And his Mom, who is a real writer,

From the desk of Pocket Dog We got visited by another buzzard again Wednesday  Why do these buzzards keep coming to our neighborhood? I don't know much about these birds.  They just keep circling over our head, and dumping this white, wet, cold stuff on our grass and our walkways.  Tthe snow was very hard to move, wet and heavy.  It was very difficult laying under the covers in our warm bed with Mommy while Daddy dug out the cars and large spaces for little dogs to pee.  That laying all snuggled up was very difficult.  The scraping noises from Daddy's shovel, the sound of his head boinking off the walkway when he slips, his loud gasping for breath as he leans against the car trying to determine if he is having a heart attack, the whack of his shin on the car as he slips under it, all very distracting when you're trying to snuggle. Then I hear the door open, and the phone rings.  The phone is on Daddy's side of the bed which means Mommy has to go to th

It has been a busy time here in Monster Town. It has been almost three weeks that I have been crated for five hours or more because Mommy and Daddy were working. Since December 23 one of our parents has been home with us except for three or four hours at the longest.  This has been a big boon to small businesses in the house, like ball chasing, squirrel harassing, and barking at passing cars out the window. (An interlude, from Daddy's first dog Barney from the Bridge:  "Why, when I was a pup we didn't sit in the house and watch cars go by, we chased them.  We ran right next to them, smelling the rubber hitting the road, nipping at their bumpers with our teeth.  Sure, we often got swerved into, knocked over, or killed, but we were glad, glad to be killed, because that's the way it was back then.  You young pups and your barking at cars from the window, you're just a bunch of wussy lap dogs that's all".) You may remember that Mommy got sick earlier th

Two of our dogs went to their forever homes this week.  After a long journey Freddy finally made it to Steve and Tommy's house, and our sweet friend Baron the Bear (the dog so nice they had to name him twice) went to his forever home at Rainbow Bridge to join his friends and wait for the rest of us and his beloved Mom. Both trips required flying.  Freddy flew on pet airlines.  Bear grew wings and flew to the path that led to Rainbow Bridge.  Freddy flew in a crate, looking down at the friends he flew over, giving out a "HAROOO I am going home" bark that could barely be heard over the plane's engines.  Bear used his wings to fly, stopping by to softly lick the tears from his Mom's face, something she barely felt, before flying off to the Bridge. It took a tremendous amount of hard work and cooperation between a great group of TB and DS Moms and Dads to get Freddy to her home.  It took the incredible will of Bear's loving Mom Monica to delay his flight

Oh my gosh, Sunday night, what an awful night. Saturday night Mommy went out to eat with her children, grandchildren, and the ones who put the thingee in the bujeengee that makes babies.  She had gone on Thursday for a birthday dinner with Daddy and her brother and sister-in-law and on Friday for a birthday lunch with Daddy and her son.  I can't say for sure if what happened on Sunday was because the birthday angels were punishing her for over indulging in her birthday, or if the dog angels were punishing her for leaving us for a few hours over three days, like the talent angels have punished Lindsay Lohan after her totally awesome performance in Herbie Fully Loaded by making her sick, but whatever it was it wasn't good. Early Sunday morning Mommy got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.  Now, if you know my Mommy and her bad artificial knees you know she hurries like a penguin being chased across the ice by a polar bear.  She made it to the bathroom and womited,  She cr

Bullies! They are everywhere.  If you surf the Internet like I do you will read how concerned adults are about little humans being bullied by mean kids.  But when are humans going to start getting concerned about us, their best and most loyal friends getting bullied? For example there are the first two doggies recognized as pups of the week in 2011, Napa and Shakira.  They suffered the worst type of dog park bullying. Their Mom took them to the dog park a few weeks ago on a perfectly sunny day.   There were two Great Danes roaming uncontrollably.  I have met plenty of this breed and, while even if their heads are larger then my entire body, they seemed perfectly nice.  But these weren't Great Danes, these were Zombie Danes. And they weren't just bullies.  They were humping bullies, which are the worse kind.  One Humping Zombie Dane mounted Napa.  Our sweet friend was not in the mood to be sexually assaulted in a dog park and growled at the creepy Hamlet to back off. 

It was a bitterly cold Christmas Eve in Northern Virginia as we peer down on a young man hurrying through the festive crowd, who are wishing each other the best of the holidays.  The young man ignored them all, staring down at his blackberry.  He was stopped by an elderly man who asked him if he could donate money to poor children on Christmas.  The young man scribbled the http address of a web site and continued onward. He came to his front door and searched for his keys.  When he found them he looked at the door and his heart skipped a beat.  His beautiful door knocker had turned into the face of a yellow lab.  "Tanner Bub?" he asked, his voice squeaking in despair.  But the knocker turned back into the @ symbol he had paid an extravagant amount on e-bay to obtain.  He shook his head and wondered if he had too much punch at the Christmas party, which was entirely possible, since he was the only person there. He entered the house, put down his blackberry and switched to