The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

After a couple of quiet weeks we were inundated with puppy prayers this week.  When us angels receive prayer requests we are required to go up the mountain to the Big Guy and give him a print out of all the prayers and he decides yes or no.  Often it is no but we still owe it to the mortal souls united in prayer to get an answer. There were several pups we got prayer requests for this week but by far the most were for Cooper.  This is his story:  (As always the names are the same because we are all innocent.) Last Sunday was a bad day in Cooper’s house as he, and his brothers Romeo and Chipper all fell ill showing signs of being lethargic, not wanting to eat and in Cooper’s case vomiting.  Their Mom was most concerned about Cooper who has been battling IMHA for years and seems to have had it licked, but he is still very susceptible to a viral disease.   The next day Chipper and Romeo were doing better but Cooper was the same, showing no interest in food, very lethargic and m

I don’t know how humans are supposed to spend their Fourth of Julys.  It was only my second one.  But I don’t think they were meant to go through the weekend celebrating the nation’s birthday (and Foley’s) wet, hot, tired and frustrated. The first cause of frustration, and the main cause of the heat, was a central air conditioner that did not like blowing cold air.  Each day, at the hottest point of the afternoon, the air conditioner would stop blowing cold air and start blowing hot air until the sun began to go down, when it would start blowing cold air again. Daddy called a plumbing company and two days later a nice smelling Asian American man arrived.  When our Grampy was alive Daddy was critical of him because he never wanted a home health aide with an accent because Grampy said he could not understand them.  Daddy felt this was foolish.  But when they got outside, and the Asian American man began asking Daddy about the central air unit, and Daddy didn’t understand what he was

Dear Aunt Foley:  I just read on the computer that we dogs have floppy ears, patches of white fur, juvenile faces and small jaws because we have been domesticated.  Is any of this true?  - Sophie Dear Sophie:  Did a human write the study?  If the answer to that question is yes then the answer to your question is hell no.  Human don’t understand anything about dogs.  That’s why they keep studying us.  Humans can’t accept things they don’t understand.  When they get frustrated about things the don’t understand they try to blow it up.  But I don’t think we need to worry about that. First let’s address the floppy ears as a sign of domestication.  I had one floppy ear which would mean I was half domesticated although Mommy would tell you I was a tough, independent little dog who could have survived in the wilderness if so needed.  Pocket has very erect ears and she is so domesticated she has trouble surviving when she goes out for a pee.  River has floppy ears and she spent so much

While I lived on the mortal side of the mortal side of the River of Life I must admit I did not find many things sacred:  There was my kitty condo, my food dish, Mommy’s lap, and the big bed we all slept in.  It could only be used for one thing: Sleep.  No playing, no monkey business, nothing but sleeping.  A cute Yorkie is birth control that even Hobby Lobby could get behind. But when I gaze into the River of LIfe to see my favorite Mortal spot, where I always felt safe and knew nothing bad could happen to me I am very angered to see the rolling around, the nipping, the genital licking, the back lying with spread legs, that is going on in my bed.  Pocket and River how could you! River, we all know, being an unwed mother, is a handful in the sack, and I can’t complain about her not respecting the B.  But when Pocket was a puppy she was allowed into the bed and she began to play.  I snapped at her right quick and told her she was not allowed to do that ever again.  She learned.

I was off having wonderful dreams about a life without giant glowing squirrels when I got pulled out of my dreams and into Judge Foley’s chambers She sat behind a big desk, wearing her robe, and looking very regal.  She said it was time for me to do something important for Mommy.  To learn the ways of the Monster. She told me when she left that Mommy would miss certain things about her, but she didn’t want to teach them to me right away.  If I had reminded Mommy of Foley she would be looking for more of Foley in me than me of me and Foley and I both agreed, I’m not Foley.  But now, with her gone a year, it was time to be schooled. The first class was in tongue.  I have always kept my tongue in my mouth but Foley told me that I must start slipping it between my teeth and lips.  I told Foley that unlike her I did not have a big tongue or a big mouth.  She gave me a cold stare and told me to start practicing sticking my little tongue out of my little mouth. Next came the walk

Another quiet week here at the Bridge has allowed me to look into the River for worthy pups to write about.  Earlier this week I looked towards my friend Stamford who was trying to get through a fence in his yard.  “The little bugger,” I said laughing.  He burst right through that fence and there was a cat on the other side and then “oh sweet mother of mercy!”  I ran up the hill, hopped on my cloud, then on my bed, and hid under the covers. A little while later one of my squirrel minions came to me and said I was requested to swear a cat in at the Bridge.  I slipped on my robe, grabbed my book, and dreaded every step as I got closer and saw that it was indeed Stamford’s cat.  I tried to swear her in as quickly as possible but of course, because cats think all dogs know one another she asked me if I was friends with Stamford and I said “you know I saw him around once or twice, but you know, I wouldn’t say we were exactly friends, you know, saw him at a Christmas party a  couple

Dear Aunt Foley:  What are you doing up there?  Our house got hit by lightening.  We lost our power and when that came back on we had no Internet, no cable, no water.  Are you responsible for his and are you willing to make reparations?  Plus I hate thunderstorms and during the last one I climbed in Mommy’s shirt and peed on her lap. Anyway that’s her story.   Can you stop the thunderstorms in Florida? - Tashi Dear Tashi:  First let me speak  for everyone here in the afterlife in apologizing for the lightening strike at your house.  I don’t have any control of the lightning.  Let me try to explain our complicated weather system to you. The River is made up of the tears of, and for, the departed, and each day it gets bigger.  At the end of the River the beavers work to make sure that the River does not flood our area of the Bridge so they must dump out a certain amount of water by turning a big faucet with their teeth and that opens up a sprinkler and unfortunately, because of t

Well the humans who waste their time studying dogs have done it again:  They have spent millions of dollars coming up with something completely useless that foolish human parents will flock to buy.   It is an oxytocin nasal spray that strengthens the bond between pet and parent.  This spray is also known as the “love hormone” and it causes dogs to want to bond with their humans more.  If you are a human, and this appeals to you, meet me in the next paragraph: Look, buddy, if you need a drug to get your dog to be more affectionate to you, your problem may not be pharmaceutically related.  You see, humans are our entire life, and if we aren’t responding to you then maybe it’s time to look at the freak in the mirror. I guess some humans need us to be like caricatures of Vietnamese prostitutes during the war, wanting us, upon their entry into the home, to roll over on our backs, look up at them, and say “me love you long time, me so horny.”  I, for one, find the entire thing repu

It has been a slow week here at the Bridge, a blessedly slow week.   No friends making the journey to the immortal side of life.  No friends in need of prayers. I have been blogging for five years.  Shortly after I began I used my Sunday blog to recognize dogs, usually those who had either passed over to the Bridge, or were in need of prayers.  The first dog I wrote about who had crossed the River of LIfe was Apollo.  Last week I wrote about his brother Ace, who passed over on Tuesday.   At the time of the Apollo blog Ace was just beginning his peak years. So it is a rare week when there is no sorrow or peril.  Thank the Gods and the Dogs for that.  But being a well acknowledged dog with a blog it left me with a problem.  I had no one to write about and a rabid audience of dozens of dogs and even a larger audience of dogs up to date on their shots waiting on my blog. Let’s celebrate some good news and some minor problems that could have been major.  Like Lame Lou ee.  He went

Dear Aunt Foley:  I am positive that Mom has lost her mind...HELP!!!!  She bought a 12" tall glow in the dark squirrel!!! She says it lights up the stairs for when she comes home after dark! I think it is terrifying...who in the world wants to bump into a foot tall squirrel?!!!! I hid under my blankie that Jeanne (Prince's Mommy) made me!!!  Ohhhhhh boy...make it go away!!!!!   Shivering Golden Boy....Enzo Dear Shivering Golden Boy Enzo:  I don’t believe it is you I should be addressing.  Please bark loudly so your  Mom comes over to the computer.  Is she there?   Thank you. Hello Mrs.Enzo’s Mom.  Usually I answer questions but I have one for you.  Are you freaking crazy?  Don’t you know that squirrels are the mortal enemy of dogs, and that we live every day in fear that they are going to rise up, combine their nuts, and build a giant 12” tall glow in the dark squirrel to exact their revenge? And not only have they done it, but you put it in your yard?  To light up t

I was snoozing on Mommy’s lap.  The TV was on and, as usual I was ignoring it unless Tyrion Lannister is on.  I like watching little people outsmart everyone else.  But then I heard the man say soccer.  When we lived at the condo kids used to leave soccer balls in the middle of the complex where Foley and I walked.  Daddy would kick the ball and I would run after it,  hop on top of it and roll over with it.  I loved playing soccer.  But then we moved here to the Village of the Pruned and you don’t want to jump on any low lying balls left here. But I never lost my desire to for soccer and this seemed like a golden opportunity.  That night I waited for everyone to fall asleep, jumped out of bed, entered the front bedroom and snuck into Foley’s Leopard Skin Vagina Kitty Condo.  I went down to the library and, in an old file cabinet, I found the codes that Foley used to upload herself through the series of tubes that make the Internet. Then I jumped back on the bed.  I waited until

For most Americans it was a short week, but for us pups and their parents it has been a week of prayer as three of our friends, two tough old Florida dogs, and one overly hungry Illinois dog, each had operations that made us very worried.  All three pups are home and on the road to a full recovery, but one pup, our friend  Ace, Apollo and Shakira’s brother, not in need of an operation, or a hospital stay, at the age of 14, finds his song ending, and is scheduled to cross the River of Life to the immortal side on Tuesday. The week began with news that sent an earthquake of worry through our tight little band.  Tommy Tunes, the keeper of keys, who puts our minds at ease and is guaranteed to please, was undergoing surgery.  Tommy is 17 and he needed surgery on his eyes and to remove some growths.  Surgery is a risk at any age but when you are a senior dog the risks grow.  We all gathered in our designated spots to pray and blessedly word came that Tommy came through surgery and, althou

Dear Aunt Foley: My friend Butkus just became a Dad.   Mommy says I can never become a Dad.  Why is that?  Brody Dear Brody:  I thank you for this very important question.  Sometimes dogs ask me questions and I have to delve deep into the mysterious of the universe to find the answer but this one I can answer without a bit of research.  Your Mom had your balls cut off, put in a jar and left in the dumpster behind the vet’s. But don’t go hating on your Mom.  Even though you won’t know the joy of fatherhood she did you a favor.  If she did not have you snipped then once a month you would smell the female scent in the air and you would begin to bang your head against the door until you were let outside and then you would stumble down the street like a zombie looking for the dog emitting the scent. And there are a lot of other responsibilities that Butkus has now.  Although most of his pups will go to new homes he will have to pay kibble support to make sure that they get fed eno

It has been nearly a year since I left my Florida family to take over management of a Massachusetts family (no one told me about the cold.  Who wouldn’t tell someone about the cold?  I was less than a year old. Geez)  I was replacing Judge Foley Monster who accepted a position of great importance at Rainbow Bridge.  It was an honor to be replacing Judge Monster but I will repeat, as I have often done to her, her dream meetings to guide me, while appreciated, are not needed. Now, I think it is proper, after a year of supervision, to give my staff reviews.  I will share them with you, my loyal friends, Mommy:  Overall your work has been excellent.  You are a wonderful snuggler.  I love lying against you while I sleep at night and you give excellent lap.  The food is served promptly and sometimes with surprises like chicken and pumpkin.  You could be a little more reasonable when others make small errors, like when I pee on the couch, or when I run around the house like a mad dog a