The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

On Thursday I got a message that a new pup was arriving at the Bridge..  I went to my spot at the top of the stairs and looked down waiting for somepup to start climbing.  Then the wind began to blow, the ground shook under my feet, birds flew out of the trees, the Bridge itself swung like it was caught in a mighty breeze. Then I heard the cries from the mortal side, like thunder in the distant, but high pitched, and mourning.  “No?” “Why?”  “Please don’t let it be true!”   I did not know what had happened, but I knew that something big had been moved. I went into the crouch position I used when scared.  When I arose I felt a paw on my shoulder and looked up to see the big thing that had been moved:  Tommy Tunes.  I don’t know why, because he was with me, and what had happened to him had happened to me, but I burst into tears, for him, for his Dad Steve, for everyone on the mortal side of the Bridge.  They had lost something big indeed. Tommy patted me on the head

(This blog was mostly written before we heard of Tommy’s passing.  We dedicate this blog to Tommy and the best dog Dad we know, his Dad Steve.) Dear Aunt Foley: What the hell?  So one Dad makes a minor mistake and a dog steps into a grate and now all Dads are bad dog parents?  I know lots of Dads who are great dog parents, and are raising their dogs on their own.  I think you owe them an apology or you are going to get the reputation as an anti-Daddite - Katie   Dear Katie:  Oh boy, I really opened a can of garlic with my last Ask Aunt Foley.  I certainly did not mean to dismiss the love and care that so many Dads give their dogs.  There is such a long list of great Dads I could not list them here but they include your Dad, Reese’s Dad, Hobo’s Dad, Tommy Tunes’ Dad, Leo’s Dad, Stamford’s Dad, and even my own Dad. Just from my own experience I can tell you how great Dads are.  Daddy took me for my walks, got up with me in the middle of the night when I needed to go outside,

How was your weekend?  Mine was pretty crappy, most of it coming out of my butt.  And it was crappy for Mommy and Daddy who became very worried about what was coming out of my butt.  Heck it was even crappy for River who, for the first time in her life was thrust into the role of caring sister, and did a good job. As many of you know, I am a very nervous dog.  When I get nervous things in my lower end turn to liquid, and when it does I become like a leaky faucet, if your faucet was hooked up to the sewer line.   Last Wednesday Mommy and Daddy rearranged the living room so their chairs were closer together and Mommy was facing the TV without having to turn her cranky neck.   There was some, what I would term tension between Mommy and Daddy over cleaning the floors, and that tension turned my bottom end innards to water.  This lasted a couple of days. On Sunday Mommy turned on the stove to make Daddy breakfast.  I hate the stove.  It’s electric and it beeps.  Last year one of o

I knew this day was coming.  As I have written before all dogs have only so many heartbeats, and they are never enough.  I knew Max’s song was ending soon.  His brother’s arrival two weeks before was a terrible shock but Max….well,  he was expected. And now he was coming.  When I got to the top of the stairway leading from the Bridge his brother Tupper was already there.  He silently nodded at me.  He was being a good angel, observing proper protocol, but I promptly broke it, gave him a hug, and licked a tear from beneath his eye.   Max waited to be sworn in, which I did quickly, and then he had Tupper hugged. “How is Mommy?” Tupper asked.  Max just sadly shook his head.  They hugged again and there were more tears than even my curved tongue could clean.  They let go of one another and Max asked what was expected of him next.  There were wings to be fitted, a cloud to be found, the reams of unnecessary paper work to be filled out, but that could wait.  I motioned them over to

Dear Aunt Foley: The other day I was on a walk with my Dad.  I was doing my usual walk stuff, looking around, sniffing, turning my head at any sound.  Like all dogs we trust our humans to watch where we are going.  Unfortunately Daddy wasn’t really paying attention to where we were walking and he took me over a stormdrain.  My leg went right through one of the rectangular drains and then I fell sideways.  My Daddy had to lift me out.  Whose fault was this?  Clint Dear Clint:  For generations us dogs roamed the world without a leash carefully watching every step and we never fell in a grate and got stuck.  Then we got our calling to become man’s angels and we moved in with them.  Man, being genetically mistrusting, put a rope on us so we didn’t run away from them. Once that happened we made a pact with them. We would let them put the leash on us and walk us but they had to watch where we were going.  We would spend our time smelling the flowers, looking at the sky, checking out a

With so many prayers that need to be flown up the mountain last week I forgot to mention Aran, whom I will get to in a moment, but I want to take a second to thank the Big Guy for so many answered prayers, and to ask him to keep praying for Barnum, who has a very serious liver condition and needs daily prayers. Aran’s problems started as quietly as a summer cold: A few sneezes, watery eyes, those things we expect to pass with time.  Even though he was eating and playing as usual his condition didn't pass in time and it made his Mom scared and worried.  Being a Mom of great experience she sensed Aran was acting more clingy than usual.  As his Mom so eloquently said “The worst part of being a pet parent is that you can't ask them what's wrong.”   The news from the vet was worse than expected. It was neither allergies or a cold, but an indentation in her head.  Indentation in your head is not a diagnoses anyone, human or pup, wants to hear.  Somehow Aran was losing musc

Dear Aunt Foley:  Last Wednesday I was in the kitchen, minding my own business.  There was a roasted chicken on the dining room table.  That chicken must not have been all the way dead because it got up and walked off the table then fell on the floor.   I know dead chickens should not be walking around on the floor so I picked it up in my mouth and killed it for sure.  Then Mom and Grandmom came in, found the chicken in my mouth, and blamed me for knocking the chicken off the table.  How do I prove my innocence? - Paco Dear Paco:  Oh your Mom and your Grandmom owe you a big apology.  I have heard of these things before and know what happened.  The chicken was dead, but it came back to life.  What your Mom had on her dining room table was a zombie chicken. Zombie chickens are very dangerous.  A zombie chicken ankle bite can be deadly for a human.  I must admit most dogs I know would have run away and hid but not you Paco.  You picked up the zombie chicken, shook it, and killed it

Here at the Village of the Pruned it is rather cramped.  We have about five feet of property on either side of us, someone living behind us, and a road in front of us.  We don’t mind at all, especially since before we lived here we lived in a condo where humans pass by our window causing us a great deal of unrest and barking. One good thing being cramped in here is that there are never any critters around:  No cats bothering our bird friends, no squirrels eating their food. Until this week.  We have two big fern trees in our yard and this week I was sure there was something hiding under them.  My suspicions were further raised when I saw the remnants of one of my bird friends, nothing but feathers.  I suspected we had a cat infiltration. I kept pulling Daddy towards the fern trees when he took me out.  Finally he let me stick my little head under there  He was nervous because, while he didn’t think there was anything under there, if there was something it could be dangerous, but

This has been quite a week for prayers and I have been doing all I can to get them all answered positively but unfortunately not every prayer is answered positively and, as I found out this week, some prayers are not answered at all. First there was Dasiy Mae.  She had a seizure that may have been caused by heat stroke.  I flew up with the prayers requests and, by the time I got back I learned those prayers were answered because Daisy was improving.  But then I got another…..request.  It came from Hattie Mae.  Hattie doesn’t pray so much as she issues demands and her demand was that she be able to check on her friend Daisy.  While both their Moms are on the Internet they weren’t on sites that connected.  I didn’t take this one to the big guy.  If you think I get upset at him you haven’t seen anything like Hattie Mae.  I relied on my friends Lily and Ben and thanks to them Daisy and Hattie has a wonderful reunion. Then there is Hagan, who I requested prayers for last week.  He

I recently celebrated my second birthday.  I would like to thank everyone who made it a special day.  I am so lucky to have such great friends.  I got a spa day on my birthday and got to party with the Griffons at the groomers.  They are always fun.  But there is something most unwelcome that comes with each birthday. The trip to the vet.   It was a normal Thursday.  Daddy put Pocket in her crate and Mommy picked me up.  We went outside and got into the car.  Knowing my birthday was coming up I was thinking: Ice cream?  Dog park?  Hamburger? Nope, just an anal probe. We drove into the vet’s parking lot.  I had only been here once and I vaguely remembered it.  I was sniffing for ice cream and thought I got a whiff of anti-septic ice cream but when I got inside I knew there would be no ice cream. The first thing they did was weigh me.  I have been taught by Foley that whenever I am being forced to do something don’t cooperate under any circumstances.  When I got on the sc

Dear Aunt Foley:  This week my Dad took me into the gigantic water container they have in their backyard for some unknown reason.  They put this jacket on me, and then Daddy held me while I splashed around.  What’s up with that? - Scooter. Dear Scooter:  When I was a younger dog I thought the large water container was an emergency stash for the zombie apocalypse because everyone knows that when zombies strike they hit the water department first to sap our vital resources (and if they don’t they should because it’s a wicked good plan.)   But then I wondered why they would assume the zombies would only attack between June and September and cover the water container up the rest of the time.  That’s when it came to me, they used to pool to cool off when the weather got hot. Actually it is a pretty good idea, as I think it must be very expensive to build an ocean outside your house.  I am sure humans love it.   And, like all things that humans love, they want to share it with us (unl