Today
I woke up under the covers in my warm bed with Mommy, Daddy and Pocket.
It had snowed, then rained, then snowed overnight. Daddy got out of bed
first and made sure we had a dry spot to do our business. When we went
out we had warm jackets draped over our backs to protect us from the
elements. After coming back inside we were given a nice treat. While
Mommy was showering Daddy tossed the ball for Pocket who chased it down
barking and wagging her tail. While Daddy was showering Mommy gave us
some more treats and then Pocket climbed up on a recliner and I sat in
my little chair waiting. After breakfast Daddy cleared off the table,
then put me on it so I could be rubbed, scratched and give licks as
Mommy finished reading the paper and Daddy read the computer. After that
we were fed breakfast with kibble mixed with pumpkin treats and dental
chews so our teeth are cared for. Pocket got a little pumpkin stuck on
her tooth and Daddy carefully removed it. Then we went outside to pee
again, for which we received more treats, and I nestled back in my
chair.
And
then I started thinking about Everydog. I don’t know Everydog. He
doesn’t have Mommies or Daddies who like to talk about him on their
computers. No one has ever posted a picture of him anywhere. He didn’t
wake up in a warm bed this morning. He woke up outside on the cold
ground, or in a cold, wet, inadequate shelter, or in a cage, in a
rescue, or at a puppy mill. There were no warm blankets, no warm,
sibling, no warm human, no warmth, just a cold chill that never goes
away.
No
one went outside to make a dry spot of him to do his business. He had
to go on the icy ground, supported by trembling legs, and then try to
use his body warmth to melt the snow so he could lie somewhere warm, or
he had to pee in a cage where it either dripped down on the floor or
settled into a low lying corner. He had no warm coat to protect him from
the elements. In fact the natural coat he had was matted and needed to
be cleaned.
There
were no treats for doing his business. Sometimes food is thrown out the
door for him. If he is in a shelter sometimes the nice people bring him
a treat when they have them but not on a schedule. If he is in a
puppymill he does not know what a treat is. No one comes to play ball
with him. Sometimes, in a shelter, someone will play a little bit, but
again there is no routine, no knowing when playtime is, even though he
knows the good people do what they can for him, he needs a home.
There
is no nice couch to lie on, nor nice chair with a warm blanket. There
is no human food slipped to him on the sly. He is never picked up and
put on a table to get extra scratches and to give kisses. There is food,
most of the time. But there is no pumpkin mixed in. The kibble is
inexpensive and not healthy for him. There is nothing baked in an oven,
or shared by their humans. Sometimes the food is forgotten altogether.
There is no food mixed in for his teeth or digestion. If he has trouble
chewing some food no one will carefully open his mouth and remove the
food so he doesn’t hurt his teeth or try to swallow it prematurely.
There is no second trip out, no second treat.
Later
that day, as Pocket and I lay snuggled with our humans, he didn’t have
one, he didn’t have the human touch that we all long for.
I
wish I could help Everydog. I think about him a lot when I am
considering all I have in my life, my wonderful parents, my great
friends, and all the comforts I enjoy. I would like to give all of them
to Everydog. And each one of the hundreds of thousands Everydogs going
asleep alone tonight, cold and hungry, and awakening colder and
hungrier.
Maybe
someday Mommy will adopt one of these Everydogs, but, because of the
human laws where we live, it won’t be while I am here, because we are
already over the dog limit. I don’t believe in dog limits, I believe if a
human can take care of dogs that they should be able to have as many as
they want, but humans have reasons for their rules
Mommy
says she is going to try to do more to help Everydog this year. She is
going to buy food, sponsor a dog, do what she can for Everydog. I know
lots of Moms are doing much more than that now, fostering, transporting,
saving. I know Everydog is very thankful.
But
I promise to think of Everydog every day. And I promise to pray that
Everydog finds a home. And on this day I honor them and pray that next
year, if I write this again, there will be a lot less Everydogs than
there are now.
Featuring the exploits of Ruby Rose, Foley Monster's Tails From Rainbow Bridge, and co-starring Angels Pocket and River Song. We always try to leave you between a laugh and a tear
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Friday, December 28, 2012
Giving Thanks at the end of the Year
Although
I pride myself on being able to complain about anything at any time I
must take a moment while digesting my Christmas turkey, which manifests
itself in several tiny tweets directed in Mommy’s face while licking
Daddy’s hand in bed, to announce that once again Pocket and I have not
only trounced Mommy and Daddy in the receiving of Christmas cards, but
also Christmas presents, and to this I have to thank the most wonderful
friends any dog could have.
When I waddle out to the kitchen to take a nice drink of water I look up at the wood that runs around the middle of the wall in our kitchen, and I look at the kitchen window, and wherever I look I see pictures of my friends, cards they have sent me, little expressions of love that turned up in our mailbox every day leading up to Christmas, addressed to us. You know you have friends when you are six inches tall and the mailman knows your name.
Special thanks to Mrs Sophie Bub, Wills, Koda and Josie; Leo; Tashi, Tiara, Angel Lovey and Trixie; Beaux Jangles, Cali and Hurley; Hattie Mae and any other dogs who our little Yorkie brains have forgotten who have sent us gifts this year. We are planning something special for you but it will in no way repay your generosity.
I can still remember that day when Pocket was just a puppy and Daddy found an article online about how ridiculous it was that there was a social network for dogs. Mommy asked him should we join and Daddy said “of course we are going to join.” Mommy doesn’t remember what she did before that day, before meeting so many wonderful people and pups, before she was getting nearly 100 Christmas cards, but she knows it wasn’t much fun. She is pretty sure she was working back then, but that’s OK. We can always sacrifice a few extra kibble for a lot extra friends.
We have been so blessed in making new friends this year: Reese, Meika, Wishbone, Tashi, Tiara, Sonic, Andy and Barney, Bella, PJ, Jovi, Keri, Jondalar, Muffin, Pepper, Kaizer, Candy, Neely, Toby, Jasper and so many more I am forgetting.
It has also been a sad year because we have lost so many great friends. (I could list them all here but could not possibly do a better job than Tashi and Tiara did with their tributes. If you have not seen it stop right now and check out the memorials they did on their blogs.) But when most of us started social networking many of us were middle aged to older dogs. Five years is a lifetime for dogs, and there are going to be more losses in the upcoming year, there is just no avoiding it. But these losses are a little easier because there are so many friends to hold hands, to help humans through the pain. While they isn’t a lot, some days all we need is someone just to make it a little easier.
It reminds me of a story I heard on an old TV show. A man falls in a hole. He shouts out for help. A doctor comes by, writes a prescription, throws it down, and leaves. Then a lawyer comes by, throws down a business card, tells him to call him in the morning and he will sue the landowner. Then a friend comes by and jumps in the hole with him. The man says “Why did you jump down the hole with me now we are both stuck down here.” The friend says: “True, but I have been here before, and I know the way out.” And that’s what we have. We have lots of parents who lose pups and end up stuck in a hole, and lots of parents willing to jump in and help them find the way out.
I know this year will bring losses, and it will bring new dogs who we will all love, and I know at the end of next year we will all be here in one form or another, standing strong, and together, an unbreakable pact, based on the toughest thing in the world. Love.
When I waddle out to the kitchen to take a nice drink of water I look up at the wood that runs around the middle of the wall in our kitchen, and I look at the kitchen window, and wherever I look I see pictures of my friends, cards they have sent me, little expressions of love that turned up in our mailbox every day leading up to Christmas, addressed to us. You know you have friends when you are six inches tall and the mailman knows your name.
Special thanks to Mrs Sophie Bub, Wills, Koda and Josie; Leo; Tashi, Tiara, Angel Lovey and Trixie; Beaux Jangles, Cali and Hurley; Hattie Mae and any other dogs who our little Yorkie brains have forgotten who have sent us gifts this year. We are planning something special for you but it will in no way repay your generosity.
I can still remember that day when Pocket was just a puppy and Daddy found an article online about how ridiculous it was that there was a social network for dogs. Mommy asked him should we join and Daddy said “of course we are going to join.” Mommy doesn’t remember what she did before that day, before meeting so many wonderful people and pups, before she was getting nearly 100 Christmas cards, but she knows it wasn’t much fun. She is pretty sure she was working back then, but that’s OK. We can always sacrifice a few extra kibble for a lot extra friends.
We have been so blessed in making new friends this year: Reese, Meika, Wishbone, Tashi, Tiara, Sonic, Andy and Barney, Bella, PJ, Jovi, Keri, Jondalar, Muffin, Pepper, Kaizer, Candy, Neely, Toby, Jasper and so many more I am forgetting.
It has also been a sad year because we have lost so many great friends. (I could list them all here but could not possibly do a better job than Tashi and Tiara did with their tributes. If you have not seen it stop right now and check out the memorials they did on their blogs.) But when most of us started social networking many of us were middle aged to older dogs. Five years is a lifetime for dogs, and there are going to be more losses in the upcoming year, there is just no avoiding it. But these losses are a little easier because there are so many friends to hold hands, to help humans through the pain. While they isn’t a lot, some days all we need is someone just to make it a little easier.
It reminds me of a story I heard on an old TV show. A man falls in a hole. He shouts out for help. A doctor comes by, writes a prescription, throws it down, and leaves. Then a lawyer comes by, throws down a business card, tells him to call him in the morning and he will sue the landowner. Then a friend comes by and jumps in the hole with him. The man says “Why did you jump down the hole with me now we are both stuck down here.” The friend says: “True, but I have been here before, and I know the way out.” And that’s what we have. We have lots of parents who lose pups and end up stuck in a hole, and lots of parents willing to jump in and help them find the way out.
I know this year will bring losses, and it will bring new dogs who we will all love, and I know at the end of next year we will all be here in one form or another, standing strong, and together, an unbreakable pact, based on the toughest thing in the world. Love.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Trixie is our December 23, 2012 Pup of the Week
We
live our lives in a circle. Pups are born, pups go to the Bridge. The
new replaces the old, whether human or dog, in one room the bell tolls
for someone, in another the miracle of a new life beings.
Last week we wrote about Smartie, abandoned by one family, then found by Hattie Mae’s Mom, who, for reasons even Hattie’s Mom doesn’t know, was led to Smartie by some secret inner voice.
Less than a week after Smartie went to the bridge another small dog, a Shih Tzu was abandoned, like Smartie (who was left near a Pet Smart, hence the name), near a large retail store, this one a Wal-Mart.
Tashi’s and Tiara’s Mom, Aunt Linda, happened to go to that parking lot at the same time that this little Shih Tzu was wandering, happened to park her car near the little wanderer, and saw her. The dog was filthy, nothing but skin ,bones, and matted hair. Aunt Linda said she looked like a New York City rat.
Aunt Linda’s heart broke as she held the dog, and now that it was in her arms, she knew what she had to do. She forgot about her shopping, got a towel from the car, wrapped the baby in it and took her to her dogtor, Dr. Beau.
The first thing she did was have the pup checked for a chip and it proved negative. (The pup was not wearing a collar when found.) But her tangled hair was so bad the dogtor had to give her some medicine so she called fall asleep and he could shave her to remove the filth and mats.
When she was done the cutest little Shih Tzu was revealed, black, white, and tiny. Just five pounds. A wee thing for a Shih Tzu. They figured she was eight to nine months old. Her Mom was not going to let this little girl out of her sight until she found a good home for her so she was brought to her “temporary” home.
Well this pup had no plans on this being her temporary home. The first thing she did was find the kibble dish and wolf down all the kibble. Then, when it was Tashi’s and Tiara’s team to eat, the new dog, who was starving, ate their food too. And much to their credit they recognized this was a pup in distress and did not complain.
Then there was the Daddy problem. We all know how Daddies are. Mommy brings a new dog in the house and they say no, there is no way that they are going to have another dog. Then the dog goes to him, sits in his lap, licks his hand, nuzzles down, makes cute sounds, and works her way into Daddy’s heart and soon he is asking what they are going to name her. By bedtime she was sleeping on his pillow.
By the time she fell asleep she was named Trixie and she was home.
So, a happy tail for this Sunday before Christmas, known in our home as Christmas Adam (because Adam comes before Eve). A huge tip of the tail to Trixie for finding the perfect Mom to take her home, to Aunt Linda for being that perfect Mom, to Tashi and Tiara for welcoming Trixie into their home and being the perfect sisters, and even to their Dad for not making big boy noises about not wanting another dog.
So once again we have a new friend who was abandoned and had to find a new Mom to take care of her, just like our friend Smartie did. They say if you adopt they will be the best dogs ever. This may be true. I know they make the best friends ever, and their Moms are definitely the best Moms ever.
I think you are all each other’s best Christmas gifts, and your story is the best Christmas gift we could get.
Last week we wrote about Smartie, abandoned by one family, then found by Hattie Mae’s Mom, who, for reasons even Hattie’s Mom doesn’t know, was led to Smartie by some secret inner voice.
Less than a week after Smartie went to the bridge another small dog, a Shih Tzu was abandoned, like Smartie (who was left near a Pet Smart, hence the name), near a large retail store, this one a Wal-Mart.
Tashi’s and Tiara’s Mom, Aunt Linda, happened to go to that parking lot at the same time that this little Shih Tzu was wandering, happened to park her car near the little wanderer, and saw her. The dog was filthy, nothing but skin ,bones, and matted hair. Aunt Linda said she looked like a New York City rat.
Aunt Linda’s heart broke as she held the dog, and now that it was in her arms, she knew what she had to do. She forgot about her shopping, got a towel from the car, wrapped the baby in it and took her to her dogtor, Dr. Beau.
The first thing she did was have the pup checked for a chip and it proved negative. (The pup was not wearing a collar when found.) But her tangled hair was so bad the dogtor had to give her some medicine so she called fall asleep and he could shave her to remove the filth and mats.
When she was done the cutest little Shih Tzu was revealed, black, white, and tiny. Just five pounds. A wee thing for a Shih Tzu. They figured she was eight to nine months old. Her Mom was not going to let this little girl out of her sight until she found a good home for her so she was brought to her “temporary” home.
Well this pup had no plans on this being her temporary home. The first thing she did was find the kibble dish and wolf down all the kibble. Then, when it was Tashi’s and Tiara’s team to eat, the new dog, who was starving, ate their food too. And much to their credit they recognized this was a pup in distress and did not complain.
Then there was the Daddy problem. We all know how Daddies are. Mommy brings a new dog in the house and they say no, there is no way that they are going to have another dog. Then the dog goes to him, sits in his lap, licks his hand, nuzzles down, makes cute sounds, and works her way into Daddy’s heart and soon he is asking what they are going to name her. By bedtime she was sleeping on his pillow.
By the time she fell asleep she was named Trixie and she was home.
So, a happy tail for this Sunday before Christmas, known in our home as Christmas Adam (because Adam comes before Eve). A huge tip of the tail to Trixie for finding the perfect Mom to take her home, to Aunt Linda for being that perfect Mom, to Tashi and Tiara for welcoming Trixie into their home and being the perfect sisters, and even to their Dad for not making big boy noises about not wanting another dog.
So once again we have a new friend who was abandoned and had to find a new Mom to take care of her, just like our friend Smartie did. They say if you adopt they will be the best dogs ever. This may be true. I know they make the best friends ever, and their Moms are definitely the best Moms ever.
I think you are all each other’s best Christmas gifts, and your story is the best Christmas gift we could get.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Pocket and I Got a Package From Santa Claus
You will never guess what happened to us today! Go ahead. Try. Nope,
that's not it. Told you! When Daddy came in with the mail he had a
package addressed to us with a return address of Santa Paw's Village in
the North Pole. That's right! We made it baby! Thanks to a lowering of
the standards of good vs naughty Pocket and I ended up on the nice list
and Santa awarded us.
Now Mommy, much like the Mommy who puts down a new carpet after adopting an unhousebroken puppy, had to piss on everything nice. She said that it wasn't from Santa but from a mysterious DS or TB Mom and we need to tell this Mom how pleased they made us during a difficult time, that, while we don't know who they are, we are eternally grateful and love them for it, and could never do enough to show our appreciation for this wonderful gesture.
Yeah, right! Pocket and I got this because we are so bad ass we're good. Now, let us show you the goods are goodness got us.
First there is me, thoroughly enjoying my new Santa hat:
Then there is Pocket, thoroughly enjoying her new Santa hat while in a deep depression about having her picture taken
We also received a very funny sign that I posed with because too much posing doesn't do poor Pocket any good.
And finally we got the most stunning, succulent, most delicious, treats that have ever made a dog channel Gordon Ramsey. We could not describe how good they were, not would a picture do them justice, so here is a video of us gobbling them down.
If you believe, as Pocket and I do, that these came from Santa, or if you believe that this comes from a TB or DS friend with all the qualities that Santa possesses, either way, neither Pocket, nor I, nor our parents are worthy of your friendship. We are humbled by your generosity, and hope, over the coming year, to pay back your generosity tenfold.
Now Mommy, much like the Mommy who puts down a new carpet after adopting an unhousebroken puppy, had to piss on everything nice. She said that it wasn't from Santa but from a mysterious DS or TB Mom and we need to tell this Mom how pleased they made us during a difficult time, that, while we don't know who they are, we are eternally grateful and love them for it, and could never do enough to show our appreciation for this wonderful gesture.
Yeah, right! Pocket and I got this because we are so bad ass we're good. Now, let us show you the goods are goodness got us.
First there is me, thoroughly enjoying my new Santa hat:
Then there is Pocket, thoroughly enjoying her new Santa hat while in a deep depression about having her picture taken
We also received a very funny sign that I posed with because too much posing doesn't do poor Pocket any good.
And finally we got the most stunning, succulent, most delicious, treats that have ever made a dog channel Gordon Ramsey. We could not describe how good they were, not would a picture do them justice, so here is a video of us gobbling them down.
If you believe, as Pocket and I do, that these came from Santa, or if you believe that this comes from a TB or DS friend with all the qualities that Santa possesses, either way, neither Pocket, nor I, nor our parents are worthy of your friendship. We are humbled by your generosity, and hope, over the coming year, to pay back your generosity tenfold.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Smartie is our December 16, 2012 Pup of the Week
Smartie
was left on the side of the road. She wasn’t named Smartie at the time.
I don’t know what she was named, or even if she had a name. We don’t
know who dumped her there. She never talked about it. Least as far as we
know. Maybe, as she got older, and sicker, and knew her time was near,
she told Jackie Lynn, just so the young pup would know how special it is
never to be abandoned, never to be alone, but that’s just conjecture,
Jackie Lynn, having learned well from her mentor, would never bark a
word if Smartie had.
Aunt Darla, known in the dog world as Hattie’s Mom, and her husband Jerry, better known as Elvis, were driving on the same road. I don’t know where they were going, or why they went that way, I just know they were supposed to do it, that some hand, either from our Heavenly Father, or from the Bridge, or both, guided Hattie’s Mom and Elvis, down the road where the not yet named Smartie waited having been told by the Bridge Angels, the Heavenly Father, or both, to sit still and wait, her family was on the way.
Aunt Darla and Elvis ahead. Smartie turned and looked at the car wondering if they were the people who she was waiting for. Aunt Darla and Elvis stopped, brought her into the car, then into their home, and then into their hearts. However unlikely it was as if the pieces had snapped into place and Smartie was in her forever home. (Dear humans: If you take a wrong turn, or a different way home, don’t turn around, you are just on the road you are supposed to be on, and if you turn around you will miss the reason you are traveling that way.)
Smartie was a Daddy’s girl. Most dogs gravitate to their Mom but Smartie went to her Dad. Smartie adored her Dad, as he did her. Together they were able weather what was was soon to become a Diva factory. Hattie Mae came to live with them and a star was born. Soon the little fashionista was wearing out dresses faster than her Mom could make them. Every dog knew Hattie Mae’s name.
But there was no sisterly rivalry between the two. Smartie wasn’t one for the spotlight, she was like the older Kardashian sister who didn’t want to be on television, if such a thing existed. While Hattie was posing, posting, blogging, chatting and commenting Smartie was just happy to stay snuggled up on her Dad’s lap.
Not that Smartie didn’t enjoy a good time on the Internet now and then. Smartie was on the handsome paw of Bikset at the first DS prom. I like to think them tonight, on one of those clouds above, they are young and dancing again like they did at their prom.
When Jackie Lynn came to her forever home Smartie did not show a hint of jealousy. In fact she took the young pup under her wing. Jackie Lynn called Smartie her mentor. And what a wonderful mentor she was because Jackie Lynn has grown up to honor her namesake.
Smartie began to have accidents in the house in May. Her Mom, knowing as much about dogs as anyone we know, knew that this was trouble. Smartie was in the beginning stages of renal failure. During some dogtor visits her numbers were up and we rejoiced, at other times they were down, and we prayed. But the truth was our silent friend was in a steady decline.
But she fought to stay with her Mom, with her protegee Jackie, with her brother Fella, with her sometime nemesis Hattie, and her beloved Daddy. But the body just gave out, as all of ours will someday. She could no longer live without pain, no longer eat, drink, or enjoy life, and her Dad made the difficult decision to send her on her final journey.
Like Buck a few weeks back, Smartie was another quiet dog, but no less loved, no less cherished, and the hearts that loved her don’t break any easier at her passing. To me she was a giant, a piece left on the side of the road, a piece that had been unable to fit into the original puzzle, but ended up, after an act of cruelty, being found by the right family, and she snapped into their puzzled lives, making their picture, and family whole.
I hope you are enjoy your dance with Bisket my friend. If I perk up my ears and listen carefully I can hear the music, and if I shut my eyes I can see them dancing, at Rainbow Bridge, where the dancing, the prom, and the music never ends.
Aunt Darla, known in the dog world as Hattie’s Mom, and her husband Jerry, better known as Elvis, were driving on the same road. I don’t know where they were going, or why they went that way, I just know they were supposed to do it, that some hand, either from our Heavenly Father, or from the Bridge, or both, guided Hattie’s Mom and Elvis, down the road where the not yet named Smartie waited having been told by the Bridge Angels, the Heavenly Father, or both, to sit still and wait, her family was on the way.
Aunt Darla and Elvis ahead. Smartie turned and looked at the car wondering if they were the people who she was waiting for. Aunt Darla and Elvis stopped, brought her into the car, then into their home, and then into their hearts. However unlikely it was as if the pieces had snapped into place and Smartie was in her forever home. (Dear humans: If you take a wrong turn, or a different way home, don’t turn around, you are just on the road you are supposed to be on, and if you turn around you will miss the reason you are traveling that way.)
Smartie was a Daddy’s girl. Most dogs gravitate to their Mom but Smartie went to her Dad. Smartie adored her Dad, as he did her. Together they were able weather what was was soon to become a Diva factory. Hattie Mae came to live with them and a star was born. Soon the little fashionista was wearing out dresses faster than her Mom could make them. Every dog knew Hattie Mae’s name.
But there was no sisterly rivalry between the two. Smartie wasn’t one for the spotlight, she was like the older Kardashian sister who didn’t want to be on television, if such a thing existed. While Hattie was posing, posting, blogging, chatting and commenting Smartie was just happy to stay snuggled up on her Dad’s lap.
Not that Smartie didn’t enjoy a good time on the Internet now and then. Smartie was on the handsome paw of Bikset at the first DS prom. I like to think them tonight, on one of those clouds above, they are young and dancing again like they did at their prom.
When Jackie Lynn came to her forever home Smartie did not show a hint of jealousy. In fact she took the young pup under her wing. Jackie Lynn called Smartie her mentor. And what a wonderful mentor she was because Jackie Lynn has grown up to honor her namesake.
Smartie began to have accidents in the house in May. Her Mom, knowing as much about dogs as anyone we know, knew that this was trouble. Smartie was in the beginning stages of renal failure. During some dogtor visits her numbers were up and we rejoiced, at other times they were down, and we prayed. But the truth was our silent friend was in a steady decline.
But she fought to stay with her Mom, with her protegee Jackie, with her brother Fella, with her sometime nemesis Hattie, and her beloved Daddy. But the body just gave out, as all of ours will someday. She could no longer live without pain, no longer eat, drink, or enjoy life, and her Dad made the difficult decision to send her on her final journey.
Like Buck a few weeks back, Smartie was another quiet dog, but no less loved, no less cherished, and the hearts that loved her don’t break any easier at her passing. To me she was a giant, a piece left on the side of the road, a piece that had been unable to fit into the original puzzle, but ended up, after an act of cruelty, being found by the right family, and she snapped into their puzzled lives, making their picture, and family whole.
I hope you are enjoy your dance with Bisket my friend. If I perk up my ears and listen carefully I can hear the music, and if I shut my eyes I can see them dancing, at Rainbow Bridge, where the dancing, the prom, and the music never ends.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
My sister is a P.I.G. pig by Pocket Dog
For years I have kept a closely guarded secret that could destroy the reputation of one of the most important dogs on the Internet, but this secret is dragging me down, and I have to cut it loose, so now, I will announce it: My sister, Foley Monster, is a pig!
Most of her piggish tendencies take place in the bedroom. Since she was a pup Foley likes to cap off her evening by sitting on the bed, facing our Daddy and licking his face and arm. This may sound cute but there are three reasons why it isn’t cute at all.
The first one is, as she has aged, Foley has become a heavier breather when she is agitated, and licking makes her agitated, so, while she is licking, she is also making grunting and gasping noises like the Williams sisters playing on Centre Court at the Wimbledon Finals.
So this is the sound that I have to hear next to me as I am trying to settle down and sleep. Lick, lick, snort, grunt, lick, snort, snort, grunt, lick, snort, lick, snort, lick, lick, lick. It got so loud last night Mr Furley banged on the door and demanded to know what was going on in there.
Now if this were her only noises then it would be bearable, but unfortunately Foley has another end, and out of that end comes tweeting, beeping, kazooing, bahfooing, lampooning, chewchewing, and ploofluing. So, let me update the sounds: lick, tweet, lick, snort, beep, lick, kazoooooo, lick, snort, lampooooooo, grunt, snort, lick, chuchuchewing, snort, lick, ploofloooooeeeeeeeeyyy.
Each night I become very concerned that, with her very unpleasing farting and wheezing the headboard will crash to the ground.
About midway through the concert of bodily functions the Heavenly Father puts smell in the ploofoooooooeeeeey which makes Mom go eweeeeee and causes Daddy to remind her that, when Foley was young, Mommy did not want Foley to lick her so now she is stuck with the other end.
Finally, when Foley has taken in too much air with her licking, she looks Daddy dead in the eyes and goes “BRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUPPPP!” and Daddy can smell everything she has had to eat for the last four weeks. So, in total, Foley’s sounds at night sum up to this: lick, tweet, lick, snort, beep, lick, kazoooooo, lick, snort, lampooooooo, grunt, snort, lick, chuchuchewing, snort, lick, ploofloooooeeeeeeeeyyy, BRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUPPP. Mommy has upped Foley’s yogurt intake, so the plooflooooeeeeeeeies are getting less and less, but still enough to pop your eyes out of their sockets.
I retreat to the end of the bed, bury my head in the blankets, and try to get some sleep during the one dog’s disgusting band concert each night. Then Mommy announces that the lights are going out and it is snuggle time. Then she says “Come here Pocket.”
My ears perk up. I lift my head a little. “Me, you want me?” She calls me again. “Me?” I ask again and she says yes. Then I walk up the bed, passing disgusting Foley who is headed for the warm spot I created> I climb under the covers and snuggle up near Mom’s waist. Daddy puts his arm around Mommy, and they lay there for awhile, and I am between them, feeling like the safest most loved dog in the world.
I can put up with a lot of disgusting Monster behavior in bed to get to my snuggle spot and feel safe for a whole night.
Most of her piggish tendencies take place in the bedroom. Since she was a pup Foley likes to cap off her evening by sitting on the bed, facing our Daddy and licking his face and arm. This may sound cute but there are three reasons why it isn’t cute at all.
The first one is, as she has aged, Foley has become a heavier breather when she is agitated, and licking makes her agitated, so, while she is licking, she is also making grunting and gasping noises like the Williams sisters playing on Centre Court at the Wimbledon Finals.
So this is the sound that I have to hear next to me as I am trying to settle down and sleep. Lick, lick, snort, grunt, lick, snort, snort, grunt, lick, snort, lick, snort, lick, lick, lick. It got so loud last night Mr Furley banged on the door and demanded to know what was going on in there.
Now if this were her only noises then it would be bearable, but unfortunately Foley has another end, and out of that end comes tweeting, beeping, kazooing, bahfooing, lampooning, chewchewing, and ploofluing. So, let me update the sounds: lick, tweet, lick, snort, beep, lick, kazoooooo, lick, snort, lampooooooo, grunt, snort, lick, chuchuchewing, snort, lick, ploofloooooeeeeeeeeyyy.
Each night I become very concerned that, with her very unpleasing farting and wheezing the headboard will crash to the ground.
About midway through the concert of bodily functions the Heavenly Father puts smell in the ploofoooooooeeeeey which makes Mom go eweeeeee and causes Daddy to remind her that, when Foley was young, Mommy did not want Foley to lick her so now she is stuck with the other end.
Finally, when Foley has taken in too much air with her licking, she looks Daddy dead in the eyes and goes “BRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUPPPP!” and Daddy can smell everything she has had to eat for the last four weeks. So, in total, Foley’s sounds at night sum up to this: lick, tweet, lick, snort, beep, lick, kazoooooo, lick, snort, lampooooooo, grunt, snort, lick, chuchuchewing, snort, lick, ploofloooooeeeeeeeeyyy, BRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUPPP. Mommy has upped Foley’s yogurt intake, so the plooflooooeeeeeeeies are getting less and less, but still enough to pop your eyes out of their sockets.
I retreat to the end of the bed, bury my head in the blankets, and try to get some sleep during the one dog’s disgusting band concert each night. Then Mommy announces that the lights are going out and it is snuggle time. Then she says “Come here Pocket.”
My ears perk up. I lift my head a little. “Me, you want me?” She calls me again. “Me?” I ask again and she says yes. Then I walk up the bed, passing disgusting Foley who is headed for the warm spot I created> I climb under the covers and snuggle up near Mom’s waist. Daddy puts his arm around Mommy, and they lay there for awhile, and I am between them, feeling like the safest most loved dog in the world.
I can put up with a lot of disgusting Monster behavior in bed to get to my snuggle spot and feel safe for a whole night.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
An award from our friend Cotton
Last week we were blessed to be one of the first recipients of the Friendly Blogger Award started by our friend Cotton. Cotton is a very sweet, wonderful friend and if you are not following Cotton's blog you should stop right now and follow it. This is the Award
For those of you who don't know this is Cotton
Such a sweet pup.
Now it is my duty to pass this award on to four friends. Some of these may have already been awarded by Cotton but as the instructions said "the more the merrier."
Because they have been my friend for so long, and designed my page, I would be remiss if I did not give an award to Kolchak Puggle
I don't know if Cotton awarded this blogger or not but I must recognize my friends at the Dougall Diaries
Two of my favorite things are gardening and dogs, and no one combines them better than my friend Wyatt
Finally we want to recognize Amber and Max and the DaWeenies of Florida blog.
I hope it means as much to you four as Cotton's award did for us.
.
For those of you who don't know this is Cotton
Such a sweet pup.
Now it is my duty to pass this award on to four friends. Some of these may have already been awarded by Cotton but as the instructions said "the more the merrier."
Because they have been my friend for so long, and designed my page, I would be remiss if I did not give an award to Kolchak Puggle
I don't know if Cotton awarded this blogger or not but I must recognize my friends at the Dougall Diaries
Two of my favorite things are gardening and dogs, and no one combines them better than my friend Wyatt
Finally we want to recognize Amber and Max and the DaWeenies of Florida blog.
I hope it means as much to you four as Cotton's award did for us.
.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Lou ee is our December 9, 2012 Pup of the Week
Pocket and I took our DS and Tanner Brigade roll call this morning. Ginger is still missing, and we are very concerned about her and everyone needs to say prayers for her safe return; Clementine is still woozy from her eye surgery, which she came through very well, but we need prayers that she heals and the pathology for the second eye comes back clear. But outside of that everyone is present and accounted for. Thank the Heavenly Father for that.
So now we get to celebrate someone for a good deed, and this week we pick Lou ee for two reasons, one was his attempt to get a home for a lost dog, and the second is that he is a dog that can continually put a smile on our face.
Although he is still a pup Lou ee has learned how to manipulate his humans like a senior dog. His parents were planning on going shopping last Sunday but Lou ee raced to the door ahead of them sending them the message that he wanted out now.
After a few steps they spotted a black and white dog without a lead, a collar and was voraciously eating chips and the paper they came on. The poor baby was starving.
Lou ee’s Mom ran across the road for a better look and saw that the dog was emaciated.
His Mom scooped the dog up and brought him into the house. I have to give Lou ee credit because I would have been like: “What, you’re bringing him in our house? Shouldn’t we run a credit check? Hose him down? Is he eating my food?” But not Lou ee, he welcomed the dog like a long lost brother.
He ate Lou ee’s food, drank his water, ate more of his food, drank more of his water, and ate his treats. Meanwhile Lou ee’s Dad to checked the local shelters. Because of the rules where Lou ee lives his family was not able to keep the dog.
Meanwhile back at Lou ee’s house the dog was going crazy, running up and down the stairs, on the table, doing everything Lou ee was not allowed to do. This was when Lou ee found out about the rules for guests and dogs who live in the house and how guests get away with murder.
Lou ee and his parents decided to check to see if the pup was microchipped, and for Lou ee to be chipped too. The pup let a collar be put on, and walked with a lead. His Mom even said that the lost pup was better behaved than Lou ee which wasn’t funny.
The pup wasn’t chipped and he had to be left behind. The man said if no one claimed him then they would contact her in seven days. Lou ee’s Mom was very afraid that the pup would be put down. She and Lou ee spent the whole night wide awake, worrying and fretting.
By the morning Lou ee and his Mom had decided that they would have to work something out with the property managers because they were going to take the dog if it wasn’t claimed. Then came the call. The pup had been claimed.
The dog was claimed by what are called travellers in Europe and might be referred to gypsies here. Lou ee and his Mom don’t know what there is in store for the little pup and may never know. Being the pup of travellers may not be the most stable life.
Lou ee and his Mom found a lost pup on the streets and saved it. They gave it food, care, and love. And in turn they fell in love with it. They did everything right to return to dog to it’s owners, and they still were left heartbroken worrying about the future of the little pup. Sometimes being kind is very hard and heartbreaking work, but we believe they deserve recognition for trying.
We are very proud of you, Lou ee, and your Mom, and know that somehow, some way your kindness will be repaid.
For now please accept our gift of song.
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
You a good boy now
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Went for a walk
Down the street
Found a stray dog
Brought it home to eat
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
You did not mind when he ate your treat
You did not mind when he lick your feet
He even ate some of your meat
You just watch from your seat
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Your Mom took him to get a chip
They put one in your head
You left the dog it’s owners came
And we are left to sing your fame
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Lou ee Lou ee oh no
‘You a good boy now
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Pocket's 2012 Christmas Card Bloopers With Video
Unlike
my sister Foley, a Yorkie in constant state of rebellion, I, Pocket,
try to be a good dog and do what my parents want me to do. All I want
them to do is to sit in a soft chair with either a lap or enough room
for me to snuggle next to them. When they are doing other things I try
to stay out of their way so they can be ready to sit sooner, or maybe
toss me a ball.
I hate to be the reason for prolonged non sitting but this is exactly the situation I found myself in Sunday. It was Christmas Card picture taking day. I hate Christmas Card picture taking day. Maybe someday we will find someone here in the Village of the Pruned willing to take picture of me sitting on my parents’ laps or squeezed between them in a love seat, but until that day it means that I am going to be sitting next to Foley and they are going to be begging me to do the right thing so the picture can be taken.
I just don’t know what the right thing is! And when I don’t know what to do, like many great Americans, I lie down and keep my legs together, because studies have shown that no one has ever got in trouble by lying down and keeping their legs together.
Except I did. Because each time I would lie down with my legs together Mommy and Daddy told me to sit up. Then they would point their phones at me and look through it at me. I don’t know why. Who looks through a phone? Who are these guys? Dick Tracey?
We started on our brown loveseat. I stayed up for a few pictures, but then they put me right next to Foley. She was staying still with her tongue poking out of her mouth posing perfectly which is only fair, this is her twelfth Christmas card. For her posing for a card is as natural as Lindsay Lohan posing for a mug shot photo.
Then we moved to Daddy’s chair and at this point all I wanted to do is lie down. During the picture taking Daddy kept hitting the video button by mistake and finally he decided to record my humiliation, so here is one minute of a long photo shoot with Mommy and Daddy trying to get me to stand.
Finally we were placed under the tree and they on the floor with us and I continued to lie down but then I got so tired of lying I stood and that is when they got their photo. Those pictures are being processed and should go out next week. Until then, if you don’t mind, I am lying down.
I hate to be the reason for prolonged non sitting but this is exactly the situation I found myself in Sunday. It was Christmas Card picture taking day. I hate Christmas Card picture taking day. Maybe someday we will find someone here in the Village of the Pruned willing to take picture of me sitting on my parents’ laps or squeezed between them in a love seat, but until that day it means that I am going to be sitting next to Foley and they are going to be begging me to do the right thing so the picture can be taken.
I just don’t know what the right thing is! And when I don’t know what to do, like many great Americans, I lie down and keep my legs together, because studies have shown that no one has ever got in trouble by lying down and keeping their legs together.
Except I did. Because each time I would lie down with my legs together Mommy and Daddy told me to sit up. Then they would point their phones at me and look through it at me. I don’t know why. Who looks through a phone? Who are these guys? Dick Tracey?
We started on our brown loveseat. I stayed up for a few pictures, but then they put me right next to Foley. She was staying still with her tongue poking out of her mouth posing perfectly which is only fair, this is her twelfth Christmas card. For her posing for a card is as natural as Lindsay Lohan posing for a mug shot photo.
Then we moved to Daddy’s chair and at this point all I wanted to do is lie down. During the picture taking Daddy kept hitting the video button by mistake and finally he decided to record my humiliation, so here is one minute of a long photo shoot with Mommy and Daddy trying to get me to stand.
Finally we were placed under the tree and they on the floor with us and I continued to lie down but then I got so tired of lying I stood and that is when they got their photo. Those pictures are being processed and should go out next week. Until then, if you don’t mind, I am lying down.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Bauser is our December 2, 2012 Pup of the Week
Some dogs touch our hearts and we carry a bit of their soul with us when they pass on to the next realm, and then there are those dogs that leave something tangible to carry with us after they have gone. Bauser is one of those dogs, and today I wear the bandana he made for me proudly and in his honor.
Bauser is now at the Bridge, having been there for three weeks. It wasn’t announced because, understandably, his Mom was too broken hearted to do so, but she did announce it, in the true spirit of Bauser, when she heard that another doggy friend had dementia, which Bauser had suffered from, and, in offering advice, let us know that this Basset Hound legend had gone to the Bridge.
To tell his story I am going to borrow heavily from what his Mom wrote on his Bauser’s Bandana page, because no one knew him better, or loved him more, than his Mom. Like Reba and her Mom, who I wrote about recently, Bauser and his Mom were a true pair, one couldn’t be spoken of without the other.
Bauser was a special dog for a number of reasons, one of them that he was a black and white basset hound. He had been abandoned by his parents when he walked into one of his Mom’s friend’s workplaces with a rope tied around his neck and covered in dirt. He got brought home, and was cleaned but the friend’s roommate did not want another dog. That is how he went to his Mom and a beautiful couple was united for the ages.
His Mom, although she loved him at first site, couldn’t imagine someone abandoning him and put up flyers and placed ads but the only responses could not describe him, then Bauser gave her his first howl of friendship and his Mom knew he was in his forever home. His Mom went on a shopping spree for him and soon Bauser found himself sleeping in his Mom’s bed.
In 2008 Bauser injured a disk and needed major, and expensive, back surgery because his back legs were paralyzed. His mother needed to raise funds for the surgery and she had a talent for making bandanas, so Bauser’s bandanas was born.
With a great deal of physical therapy and love from his Mom Bauser recovered and walked again but the demand for the bandanas could not be squelched so his Mom continued to make them and sent part of the proceeds to spinal cord research.
Bauser has had a tough past year, first with more cervical issues and then a diagnosis of Dementia. But there were still plenty of signs of a young pup in him as he still enjoyed playing with his treat ball.
Last month Bauser took ill in the way that older dogs do when their Moms know that it’s time. She took him to the vet and his Mom was told he had cancer of the spleen that had spread to his liver. There could have been operations that would extend his life a few months but his Mom didn’t want him in pain any longer and sent him to the Bridge where he could be young and playful again.
In her blog explaining the circumstances of Bauser’s passing his Mom thanked everyone who did so much for him. For the dog community, I would like to thank Bauser and his Mom for everything they did for us, for their kindness, their inspiration, their determination, their hard work, for honoring deserving pups as the dogs of the month, and for being as good a friend as a dog and their Mom could ask for.
If you have not yet, please stop by Bauser’s page www.bausersbandanas.com and pick out a bandana. You will look very styling and it will link you to several of your friends on your favorite sites.
Run free and easy Bauser, we love you, we miss you, and will will always keep you in our heart and wear you around your neck.
Prayers and Thanks: Prayers are still needed for our good friend Ginger Dash missing since Thursday night. To her Mom losing Ginger was like losing a human child. Please pray she comes home soon........Our sweet, wonderful, beautiful friend Riccota was called home to the Bridge this week after a long battle with illness. He was a tough little fighter who will be very missed........A long time great friend, Summer, who is in a pack with Debra Bastion-Lutgen, has been diagnosed with stage 3 mast cell cancer and is in need of lots of prayers and good thoughts.....Another Summer, owned by Carol Overland, after lengthy illness also went to the Bridge. She fought very hard to stay with her Mom for as long as she could. Her Mom can use a lot of support............Thanks to the Bridge Angels and all those who prayed for him: Pokey was diagnosed with chronic heart disease, and while it is nothing to celebrate, it is certainly better than heart failure, and what would have been operations and lots of medicine......Also thanks given for those who prayed for, and those who kept healthy, Max, who found out the growth in his mouth was not cancerous.....And finally a big congratulations to Hobo and Lily, who, after a whirlwind courtship, were married today in a beautiful ceremony at the Tanner Brigade castle.
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