The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

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 outsid

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, Tiar

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, s

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,

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, o

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 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 Cotto

  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 whi

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 man

  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