The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

We recognize too many dogs this week, too many that crossed from the Mortal Side of the River of Life to the Eternal Side.  There are so many more, and if we have forgotten a family, or pack member, we do apologize. (And thank you to Tommy Tunes for the borrowing of several pictures.) And now:  In memorium  Girlie in January Pierre in January Dolce in January Francis in February Emmie Lou in February Desoto in February Tasha in March Gizmo passed over in March of 2013 from cancer.  Yoda in April  Lizzie in May Meeka in May PJ from complications from cancer surgery in May Me, of lung cancer, in June Fella, from cancer, in June Roxanne, in June Atlas in July Hans from cancer in July Cassie from stomach cancer in July. Willie, the dog who said no, in July Boomer in August Reba, of  cancer, in September  Juno in September Wishbone in September Annie, of cancer, in September Ms Quee

I spent most of the first year of my life in Florida, basking in the sunshine, thinking that when the temperature slipped to 40 degrees it was a cold day. I moved to New England in July and the weather was divine.  Then someone put cold in the air.  I didn’t mind it so much.  I got a warm, snuggly jacket to wear that was really quite fashionable.  This winter thing was going to be a snap. And then, just a couple of mornings ago, I was lifted by Daddy from my warm bed, snuggled next to Mommy, carried on to the porch, and fitted in my warm jacket while I looked outside.  The trees looked lovely, covered in a fluffy white substance, and the ground was covered with the same.  I then saw the cause of this beauty.  Little white flakes floated to the ground, spinning, drifting, dazzling white beauties, like hundreds of butterflies settling on the grass. Daddy carried me down the steps and over the icy driveway.  These fluffy white flakes settled on my head, feeling cool, but not wet.  

It has been so long since I have been asked to swear in a good friend at the Bridge I was hoping we would make it to the New Year, since there is nothing more sorrowful than losing a loved one at the holidays.   But this week I got the sad summons, grabbed my robe and my swearing in book and waited at the top of the steps.  Although I knew she would be coming someday soon, I hoped Misha would make it to Christmas, alas, the Gods had other plans. Misha’s journey to the Bridge was a long and strenuous one.  She fought very hard against the cancer but that’s a match that we only win when the cancer relents, and her cancer, like mine, had no desire to relent. It started with an innocent trip to the vet where liver levels were slightly high.  A few day’s later it was another every day act, a rub on Misha’s throat, when the large lump was felt, Misha cried out, and her Mom’s heart sunk to her feet.     They went to the vet and he ran a painful test and then, even mor

Being a Judge at Rainbow Bridge means that I had to sever my ties with my former law firm.  Originally I was going to appoint Pocket as head litigator but I have changed my mind for two reasons.  One:  Pocket is an excellent researcher but not very confident when it comes to her speaking abilities during trials and two:  If you had to go to court would you want to look at the opposing counsel and see this: And now we have our first big case.  Several dogs have come to me to complain about items being sold at pet stores.  They pose a direct threat to both the dignity of dogs and our rights to peacefully enjoy their lives.  I shall now list our three main pieces of evidence in this case. First is this: It is a bottle opener attached to a dog collar.  I have heard tails told of men who convince their adoring pets to fetch them alcoholic beverages.  While I believe the law should not become involved in the relationship between dog and parent I find such behavio

Here at Rainbow Bridge it doesn’t snow   We do have mountains  where we can climb then play in the snow, go sledding, and partake in snowball fights, while Huskies and their ilk have wonderful fun romping and rolling.  But we don’t have any of those cold, windy, icy, snowy days that we hate. This week, on the mortal side of the Bridge, all across the country, many friends got slammed with snow, ice, wind, and downed power lines.    When they went to do their business they got snow covered paws, icy and damp fur, and the dreaded toweling off. Thankfully no one was lost in the big cold fluffy.  All our parents survived. As I sit up here on the green banks looking in the River of Life I must admit I don’t miss sticking my who who in the freezing snow to melt a little with my pee, and I was able to muffle a snicker when Pocket went to settle into a squat and ended up spread eagle on the ice. When I was a youngster Mommy, Daddy, Blake and I would go walking in the