The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

When we first moved here I was a very nervous dog.  I followed Mommy and Daddy all over the house.  If they went out to the porch so did I.  But since they were busy sometimes they didn't notice when the door shut before I got back in. I scratched the door until they opened it. They weren't very patient with having to keep looking after me. Foley just laid down and watched confident that Mommy and Daddy would never leave her behind. (Of course they wouldn't, not only is she the brains behind this operation, but currently she generates the largest revenue stream.)  But I was afraid if I took my eyes off of them they would be gone forever. About this porch I keep getting stuck on.  I must admit this thing fascinates me.  It's not part of the indoors, but it's not outdoors either.  It's where we get leased up, get dried off, it's like our own little dressing room.  Plus it has screen doors I can look out at either end and I keep running back and forth afr

Up here in the Northeast we complain a lot about the weather.  We complain about the rains that come across the country or up the coast line.  We kvetch about the cold air the pours in from Canada in the spring.  Then we quetch about the hot air steaming up from the South in the summer.  The truth is we rarely have a great deal of weather to complain about here.  There are some big snow storms, some inconvenient floods, but nothing that puts our lives in imminent danger.  But with the Red Sox winning we don't have much to complain about so there is always the weather. Then there are the real weather dogs, like Otis. our pup of the week trapped in his cellar while tornado monsters roar over his head.  I have never been to a tornado monster nor do I want to go to one.  They scare the Vick out of me.  And they never land where they should, like Washington DC, where they actually could do a lot of good because there is a bunch of stuff there that needs to be sucked up an

Pocket pick up that cable and plug it into the other one.  Don't lick your paws first!  Oh that's OK, your paws will heel soon enough.  OK now flip the switch. Is the green light on?  Hello?    Hello?  Attention puppies of Earth   Gooooooood morrrrnnninnng Internet!  Foley and Pocket, the Web's most troublesome Yorkies are back.  We are broadcasting from our new flat where the people smell like prunes.  No more Franks'n'Beans or squirrel obsessers. We are soon going to have a whole new bunch of characters to entertain you.  But for now we are working out the lay of the land and new routines. We don't have big glass doors to look out and bark at the kitties.  We can't hear the car doors shut so we don't jump up and down barking at the mere sound.  The couch doesn't look out on the whole complex, just an old neighbors house that is blocked by trees.  We do have a porch which is cool.  We can run back and forth and look out the doors there.  But

Oh sweet freedom!  I tasted it you know.  For one brief moment I was free, no leash, no parent, running like the wind, like my ancestors, except I was wearing a denim diaper.  Let me tell you what happened, but first, I want to assure my friends that I am back inside safe on my Mommy's lap.  And, in the tradition of every single blog done about a dog getting loose it was Daddy's fault. This is what happened:  It was a beautiful Tuesday afternoon.  Daddy had spent the day taking things apart and throwing them in the dumpster.  When he wasn't doing that he was packing so there was no time to play ball with Pocket. Also at our condo we have a high roof and bad gutters so lots of rain pours right in front of our house.  It goes on to the lawn, the grass grows high, and Foley and I don't like to pee on it because it tickles. So Daddy takes us out the back porch door.  We aren't fans of going that way either because there is a chestnut tree and chestn

I can't say I know this week's pup of the week Boris well. We have never barked at one another.   We haven't even done a introductory butt sniff.  I only know him from our friends Max and Tupper. A short time ago Max and Tupper excitedly barked that they had talked their Mom into getting a brudder.  Puppies are like babies, only cuter.  Once a human takes one home they are in love with it like they have been best  friends their entire lives. But poor Boris took sick right away.  They rushed him to the vet and he tested positive for heartworm, one of the worst words in doggy vocabulary.  Then his Mom learned that poor Boris would have to be separated from them. Oh this poor baby. You get to your forever home, you don't feel good, you get poked and prodded, and then ripped away from them.  And poor Mac and Tupper, who waited so patiently for a brudder, can barely find a sniff of their little friend. We must tip our tail for Bo

As you know, because Pocket and I have been whining about if for two months, we will be moving.  Unfortunately the move will be during Holy Week which completely ruins my plans to use the Pope Mobile to transport my personal belongings.  I mean come on?  Who wouldn't trust The Pontiff movers?  I don't know why the Pope needs the mobile during Holy Week more than any other week but who am I to argue? Daddy had lined up a mover for the bi-peds but I can't trust them with my fragile treasures.  While he assures me that the Crips Moving Company does an outstanding job, and he was impressed with their logo:  "We will get you there or kill you trying" I was not sold.  Plus I didn't want my Philadelphia Phillies, or Chicago Bulls memorabilia to be misconstrued. So, if you know the name of a good mover please let me know. They would be responsible for moving my leopard vagina Kitty Condo and it's contents.  Please be aware that my kitty condo is bui

There have been several tragedies in this sad and troubled world in 2011.  We learn horrifying new stories from Japan each day.  The earthquake and tsunami there have impacted the entire world. But Japan is not the only country in the world that has been devastated by the forces of nature.  Almost forgotten, except by those in their grieving nation, Brazil was hit by massive flooding in January.  Homes were washed away, human lives were lost, and dogs were left homeless. Into the fray stepped Jen Cabral and her family.  On January 12 she left to get her dogs food during heavy rains.  As she drove back home people told he to go back, the roads had become submerged due to the dam breaking and flash flooding.  Trying to get home would be dangerous.  But she continued, she had family, and pups to care for, and with God's blessing she made it home, one of the last cars to travel the road.  Once she got home her heart turned towards her neighbors whose homes were in the p

There are pups we can count on being here every day.  We are so sure of their presence that when they are missing for a day or two, like Hattie Mae's midweek sabbatical, messages began flying back and forth questioning where she was, if she was all right.  Of course we were all relieved when we heard from her that her Mom had taken ill for a couple of days but was back at full strength. Other dogs float in and out about once a month.  We don't mind dogs who do that.  It is always pleasant to see them, except when they bring us bad news. When I saw a blog from Tadertot I was very pleased because I surely like Tader a lot.  He is a good friend.  He has wonderful jokes which I save up for my infrequent trips to the local pub.  I would like to buy that pup a case of popsicles. But this week his blog didn't include the little jokes and sly asides.  This blog brought news of the most shocking and scary nature.  Tadertot's Mom had suffered a stroke.  Strok

Among my many humiliations on this earth none have been worse than the recent forced teeth brushing that has been inflicted upon me.  Starting on Saturday, at the most unsuspecting moments, Daddy grabs me, sits on me, and violates me.  Now I know how Scott Brown felt. I should point out that he doesn't actually sit on me.  What he does is shove me between his legs and presses them together with his weight down on me.  Upon reading this back I agree the giant pervert should be arrested. Then he forces my mouth open.  Then he takes out a brush, sticks it in my mouth and begins to stroke this thing across my teeth and gums while I struggle to get free, sneeze, sniff and gasp in desperation. He says that it was for my own good (that's what they always  say, even on the witness stand.)  He says he has to do it because of my tar-tars.  Sicko.  (He claims I have tar-tars on my teeth.  I would really like to join the DA"s office to nail this bastard.) He also

Oh I do not like when one of my friends has an operation.  But when that someone is Luca, who brings so much fun and excitement to our playground with his brother Junior and late brother Fred by keeping track of everyone's birthday so we get to have lots of parties, has the best contests, including the current Most Exciting Adventure of my Life story, and is such a friend to each of us, it is very troubling.  Luca was going to have to have an operation for hip dysplasia.  I did not know much about this disease until I put on my big dog St Bernard suit and my hips started aching.  It is no fun.  Then his Mommy put up a video of Luca's brother Junior having the same surgery.  It was like watching Saw for dogs.  I haven't walked on my back legs in three weeks.  Luca lives in Argentina.  This has caused some confusion because it is summer here when it's winter there and visa/versa.  I think their calender runs backwards.  It's so confusing.  But Luca

I have read all of the 150,00 blogs (I had Pocket do the counting) that have been posted on the Tanner Brigade since the group was formed.  I kept track of who had fun, who was treated well, who got the most food, who plays the hardest.  After having studied all this data I came to one conclusion.  Big digs have more fun. Pocket disagreed.  She said little dogs had more fun.  The only way to find out which one of us was correct was for me to spend a day posing as a big dog. I contacted the Teddie Bond institute for Doggy Experiments.  It is now run by his sister Gracie Anne Beck.  Gracie is a big help in finding Teddie's inventions but not really good at knowing how they work.  But when I found the inflatable big dog suit I knew I was in business. We brought it home but Pocket and I couldn't figure out how to make it work.  Pocket tried blowing it up with her breath but she passed out in ten seconds.  Then we tried to inflate it using a pump.  Pocket rode it

Pocket and I have accepted an offer to move into the castle and run Doggyspace.  They offered us some serious kibble and we had to agree.  At the Doggyspace run by us the most important thing will be loyalty to the new Princess, me, Foley Monster.  Because of this all you dogs who joined the rebel Tanner Brigade and still think the have the right to stay on Doggyspace will be immediately deleted.  Please prepare accordingly.  Signed Foley Monster and Pocket PS Happy April 1, 2011