The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

I, Foley Monster, Attorney at Paw, am filing a law suit for Uggie who shall also be known as the plaintiff against the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, to be called the defendant,  for discrimination for not nominating Uggie for Outstanding Actor in a Supporting Role for his performance in the best picture nominated film, The Artist because Uggie is a dog.  If you agree that Uggie deserves an Academy Award you can support him by liking his Facebook page: HERE Many critics have maintained that Uggie is the best part of this highly acclaimed movie.  I cannot testify to this because (1) I am a dog and they don’t allow me into movie theaters (an exception to this is for seeing eye dogs, who sit on their owner’s lap and say “rut roo re’s roing rinto the ralley where the ruy’s rut the run.”)’  (2)  The movie is one of those artsy movies that only play in old theaters within walking distance of an over sized college campus; (3) It’s a silent movie and, like I’m

I was having a conversation with our friend Bauser this week and we said it seems like we have known each other our entire lives.  We feel the same way about 12, which is why when 12 became sick this week we were all so worried. He had to go to the doctor hospital with pneurothorax.  I don’t know what that it is but it sounds very scary.  They also thought he developed a bacterial infection and we know what that is and that’s very scary.  They gave him some antibiotics and said he should respond well, unless it’s something worse, which would be even scarier.  In short, we’re scared. We sent out lots of healing prayers to 12 and to his Mom and Dad who love their big boy quite a bit.   12 contacted us the next day to say he was in good spirits but had pockets in his lungs, which, if they ruptured would collapse his lungs. Plus our big friends wasn’t eating.  Pocket and I grabbed each other and trembled in fear.   Then we prayed and sent out even more good thoughts. 

Dear Aunt Foley: I smelled French Fries and found the French Fry bag on the floor. I stuck my head in as far as it could go but I couldn’t find no French Fries, and I couldn’t find my way out of the bag. How do I stop this from happening again and where are the French Fries? Lou ee Dear Aunt Foley: I got a hankering for some pickles, and I stuck my head in a jar, and I got it stuck in there. I am just a young pup. I guess I shouldn’t have done it. Any suggestions on how to not get my head stuck in a can? Cinnamon Dear Lou ee and Cinnamon: I put these questions together because they cover the same subject: Young dogs sticking their heads where they don’t belong. I know the smell of fries (and pickles?) can be overwhelming but you have to learn how to resist. This, of course, is another trick of those humans who want to distract us from taking care of our parents. Dear Aunt Foley: My friend Pez’s mother sent me a box of liver treats. Mommy left the box where I cou

It has come to my attention that some of your higher end condo associations have asked for a stool sample from all dogs who move into their units. They get a DNA sample from the poo, and if they find poo on their precious lawns, they send a sample of it to the lab to identify the offending pooch. This is an attack on our inalienable right to poo. Also why is it our DNA that is being brought into question? When we are born we are just as happy to poo in the house like everyone else. But we are brought outside, against our will, to poo, and if the Lord meant for us to pick it up, he would have given us op-possible thumbs. So we have to rely on our silly, forgetful humans to clean it up, and half the time they have left the bag or scooper behind, and do likewise with our poo, leading to us having to submit to DNA testing, a violation of our personal freedom. Why don’t they get DNA testing from the humans? They must shed a hair or two fleeing the poo. But instead it is on us,

We have chosen to honor our wonderful friends Pokey and Maggie not for their many achievements in advancing the cause of dogs, but to recognize their wonderful Mom, Auntie Laura Lunn, whom fate has once again struck down with a non life threatening but still big pain in the ass injury. Aunt Laura does not let people know of the obstacles she has faced in her lie, obstacles that would make a lesser Mommy hide in their home. But she is the most adventurous Mom I know. And she has the perfect attitude for a dog’s Mom to have. When we arrived for our visit she made us feel at home and told us that is was a dog’s house. It is awful nice of Pokey and Maggie to let her sleep inside. As many of you know, two summers ago, Aunt Laura had a terrible tragedy happen at home when a dog she had recently adopted, that had undisclosed anger issues, attacked her while she was petting him. The poor dog, who did not know what it was doing, ripped off most of Aunt Laura’s muscle on her forear

Thursday we went to the mailbox and there was a present addressed to my parents but it was from Shiloh the Stargazer. We thought it was something for us because Shiloh was our Secret Bub Receiver this year. We had so much fun buying stuff for her because she is so wonderful. We hurried home and Daddy opened the box. Unfortunately it was not something for us, but in a way it was. It was a lovely key box with Shiloh’s picture on it. It looks like this. Now you might ask why this helps us. Because when we go for our walks Daddy can never find his keys or wallet. We have to stand around with our legs crossed while he storms around the house cursing and looking for his keys. Now he knows where his keys are so there is no leg crossing for us, only paw crossing when we say we don’t know who peed under the table. When Mommy saw the gift she told Daddt he should do something like this for Smoochy who was our secret bub. Daddy said he had no nowhere near the skills that

Last Thursday we went for our annual vet visit. I know you are all concerned with the results so let me tell you upfront we are both fine. We call this our annual trip to the vet, but it’s like saying our annual trip to the Super Bowl, because our vet is never in the same place from year to year. The first vet I went to was in Norton MA. He wasn’t a bad vet. But his waiting room was cramped and I went there with Blake, and Blake did not like the vet at all. She was a terrible panter and shaker. And the vet was always running late. Blake was ill, and the trip alone got her so worked up, that the next year we went to a new vet, This vets was in Raynham. They seemed like the perfect vet. There was a large waiting room, they were very good when Blake was transitioning to the Bridge and very comforting when she finally passed over in Mommy’s arms in one of the examining rooms. We were all very happy there, then my new brother, Jax, began crying out in pain. Mommy took him

There have been so many tributes written about our friend Bikset, all of them deserving, that you might question why another is needed. It’s because we all feel the need to do something to honor Bisket, and to try to do something to heal his Mom’s broken heart, by conveying how much Bisket touched our lives, through the written word. I think we all know of Bisket’s illness and subsequent trip to the Bridge. It began around Halloween and lasted three months. So quick. Us dogs can go from healthy to the Bridge in such a short time. It’s like you’re standing on a mountain top, and you slip a little, and then you keep falling, faster and further, until you hit the bottom and break apart. I don’t need to recount what has justifiably been written a hundred times, Bisket’s unbreakable loyalty, his love for life and his friends, the joy and peace he brought to his parents, his kindness, his, for most of us, through the written word, becoming parts of all our families, and how his

Two days before Christmas Mommy and Daddy traveled to Mommy’s nephew Andrew’s and his wife’s Joyce’s house for a party they referred to Christmas Adam, because Andrew has a brother named Adam, and Adam comes before Eve. Studies show no one in the animal kingdom cares.. The party went on late into the night, according to the bursting clocks in both my bladder and Pocket’s. The next morning Daddy asked me for a consult. This Andrew, who is a lawyer like me, needed advice in the specialty of dog law. He lives near a park where people walk their dogs. He doesn’t own a dog of his own, but he’s young, and we will forgive him for that. His beef is with dog owners in his neighborhood. Once a week he puts his trash out to be picked up. While he and his bride are at work the trash man comes and removes his trash, leaving his barrel on the sidewalk in front of his home. Before he can get home to retrieve his barrel someone walking back from the park disposes of their dog droppings in

After years of begging and pleading I have finally received what I have asked for my whole life. No, not a live, pre-plucked chicken, but my own seat for the car. It is a vision of beauty. It is a little box with a strap that hooks to the head rest in the back seat. It has Sherpa on the inside which is very nice to lie upon and keeps my butt warm. And it is high in the air so I can see out the front window, the back, and the sides too. It is like the Pope mobile. I ride in it like a Queen, looking out the window and nodding to my peeps. I can also look out the front window and confirm what Mommy has said for years: Daddy is a terrible driver. I got mine on a Friday. When we went to the spa on Saturday it was installed for me. Pocket didn’t have one yet (there was only one at the store) so she sat on Mommy’s lap, or more accurately, squirmed on Mommy’s lap. After our spa treatment there was now a seat for Pocket too, just as high, but, in my opinion, not as comf

I know I spend a lot of blog space complaining about things in my little life. But occasionally I hear from a long absent pal and I realize I have very little to complain about. I had not heard from my good friend Apollo Schulz in awhile, which is not an unusual situation, since we do tend to lose touch with our Bridge friends. All we want from these Angels is to watch over and protect their families and boy does Apollo have work to do now. The suit of skin, bones and fur he wore here are buried under a rose bush in his Mom’s yard, and sometimes, when she is feeling blue, she goes there, to sit and talk to Apollo. She talk about the baby of the family Czar who Apollo never met in this realm. Czar has been a terrific pup, but has a bit of the Foley in him. He is stubborn as a suit. But that keeps his Mom busy and her mind off of other more pressing things. They talk about Napa. The last time I wrote about this pack was about him He had been attacked and badly injur

Sometime over the Christmas holidays I got a bad case of the bed yaks. I didn’t write about it because at Christmas there is a lot of other tunes to sing, and Hollywood is releasing their Oscar material, so I decided to wait until after the New Year when the spotlight can be shining where it belongs, on me. As I was saying one night we were all snuggled in our bed. I was under the covers licking my paws ignoring my parents who were talking about The Bridge knows what when I felt food rising up from my stomach. I came out from under the covers took two steps then upchucked all over the blanket. Now this is a huge no no. You do not desecrate the bed. That is the number two rule of the bed. The number one rule is don’t talk about the bed. I was picked up by Mommy and Daddy pulled the blanket off the bed and took it to the laundry room. Mommy held me and asked “are you all right?” Now let me back up and explain that when Daddy went to the grocer they were out of treats. and

Baron aka Bear: The first friend we lost this year was one of our biggest and most kind hearted. He was our Bear Bear. He had fought so hard to stay with his Mom. But his temperature shot up to 104 and his breathing became labored. He had pneumonia which is a very scary diagnosis for an older dog. He got some medicine but he did not improve and he went to the bridge. Baron was a fiercely loyal GSD. He was his Mom’s heart dog. Loved and respected by those who knew him both on line and in real life his passing to Bridge was felt by all those who loved him. There will be plenty of Bears in the future, but none as powerful, proud, beautiful, and loyal than Bear Bear. Jackie Pool The dog community lost a giant when Jackie Pool succumbed to cancer on February 13, 2011. A warrior who fought to free dogs from puppy mills, who fought to find them homes, she was a model for dog lovers everywhere. The year before she passed her pup Saffron had to fight for his life and Jack