The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

I have been remiss not to write a review of Bioterrorism Seized The Sea: A Hobo Hudson Adventure available from Amazon at this link .   Ghost written by our enterprising friend Hobo Hudson who used his Mom’s name as the author to hide his income from pesky IRS auditors.  For anyone who is a fan of Clive Cussler’s Dirk Pitt series, or a fan of adventure in any form, this book is quite the read. But before I delve into the review proper I have to disclose that my angel sister Foley Monster and I are mentioned in the book and there is also a scullious rumor written by Hobo himself that I had a crush on him which is not true.  That is the only part of the book that is fictional.  The rest, I truly believe, took place. When I told Foley during one of her dream lectures (I meant visits) that I would be writing this review she told me to make sure I emphasized that without her the entire adventure could not have

When I was on the mortal side of the Bridge I lived a blessed life.  Until the last week of my mortal life I rarely visited the vet except for yearly checkups.  I did have one problem:  My knee would pop out of place.  The first time it happened I screamed bloody murder and my parents rushed me to the vet.  During the car ride the knee popped back into place.  By the time I got to the vet’s my knee was fine.  The vet was still kind enough to charge my parents $200.00.  We are truly slaves to our own legs. Walking on all fours is a much easier way to move than the bipeds insistence on walking on two legs.  But when something happens to one of them we either need to adapt like our friend Scooby or we need to go to the vet’s, find out what is wrong, and possibly have a very expensive operation. We have three friends whose legs betrayed them this week:  Shiloh, Jazzy and Jakie.  These are their stories. Shiloh was having an innocent day of fun with her Daddy and his Mom.  In fac

Dear Aunt Foley:  Why is is still snowing?  We can understand it snowing on Enzo’s mountain but why is it snowing here in Indiana?  Is it ever going to stop?    Your cold friends Boris and Minne. Dear Boris and Minnie:  I am very sorry for your problems and sorrier to report to you that there isn’t much I can do about it.  Usually I take these issues to the Big Guy and he always has an open ear for me.  Weather problems are the purview of Mother Nature and nobody likes to deal with Mother Nature.  But for my good friends Boris and Max, accompanied  by their siblings Tupper and Max we went down the valley so see Mother Nature and ask that she make it stop snowing.  She whirled on us almost knocking all three of us on our tails. “You are complaining about my weather?” she asked.  “Who are you to complain about the weather?  The wind, the snow, the rain, the cold, the heat, the sleet, they are all my children and they never ever call.  You think just once they could pick up the phone

Our cousin Neely is here for a week while his family is at Disney World.  I am not happy about Nelly being here.  He takes away my attention time. He’s not a bad chap.  He’s gone through some tough changes lately.  One Dad left, another man moved in, with three boys and another dog, and, with all those new humans and a dog, Nelly got pushed down the ladder a bit and that makes him sad.  He still has a very good life but attention wise he has been lacking.  If there is one thing my parents have it is plenty of attention for dogs.  But again, I am down a slight bit in that department. When he first got here, even though he has been here before, he was timid.  I liked that.  He mostly laid on the floor because he is no longer allowed on the furniture in his house.  I think that’s a good rule:  For Neely.   But my parents aren’t real good at following the rules. Soon he was sitting with Daddy in the recliner, getting whatever he wanted using those huge, dark, adoring eyes.  I hate

Pocket and I used to fight.  We would get up on our back legs, snarl at one another and snap with our mighty jaws.  Fortunately neither of us had the jaw strength to hurt one another.  But not all dogs are as weak jawed as we are. With Pocket and I, as it is with River and Pocket, fights occurred when we thought our food, or our position on Mommy’s lap, was threatened. It is often hard to understand what triggers a dog fight.  Our parents don’t know, and most times we don’t know either.  We catch the scent of tension in the air.  A quick look is exchanged and it is go time.   Sometimes dogs fight for a bit and then lose interest.  Sometimes humans break up the fight.  And sometimes they can’t. This week two of our best friends, and two close pack members, Josie and Emme, got into a fight.  Their Mom and Dad aren’t sure what happened.  One moment the two of them were fine with one another, the next they were really at each other’s throats. Emme is the younger of the two and

    I am going to change the format this week.  Instead of a question I am going to provide an update on our plans to remove the stairs at the Bridge with a modern conveyance.       I posted a poll for several angels and pups .  The result was that almost unanimous:  An escalator with a rest stop for refreshments, pampering, and sprucing up, was chosen to replace the old, crumbling stairs.   Enzo has all the parts and will be building it in his garage.  When the results became official I immediately regretted posting the question.     As Judge of Rainbow Bridge District 7 one of my duties is to swear in the angels that cross the River of Life to immortality.   It usually take a dog five minutes to climb the steps.  When I proposed a modern conveyance to the Big Guy I had not anticipated the rest stop request.     The problem is I am a very busy dog.  I don’t mind waiting in my robes while a recently passed dog climbs the stairs but the thought of me standing there impatiently wh

I found out what was living under my house, and subsequently found out why our heat was sporadically working,and of course it was all Foley’s doing. Our heat stopped working one day, and while the calendar says spring, it is still quite cold.  River and I were shivering in the bedroom when we heard paw falls, and smelled something quite odiforous.  We ran to the vent and yelled out “who dares enter the home beneath two scary dogs of such statute.”  (I was exaggerating but I believe River was quite serious.)   “It is I, Puxatony Phil!” a voice called out from beneath the floorboards. “Puxatony Phil!” I said shocked.  “What are you doing here?” “I needed a break from the constant tourism,” he said.  “People pestering me, looking up my hole.  Foley stopped by and told me you had some heat issues.  I agreed to live under your house, get away from all the curiosity seekers, and get back into shape by running on the wheel that makes your heat work.  Next year when they pull me out o

      Pocket and I began this blog in May 2008 after getting thrown off a website that doesn’t even exist anymore.  Since then we’ve written about 1,000 of these things.       In November of 2009 we began writing our Pup of the Week tribute blogs.  Two months later we named Morgan the Miracle Maltese Pup of the Week after he went to the Bridge.  It is six years later and I was shocked to find that, despite years of doing great work, we have not honored Morgan’s wonderful Mom.  We are here to rectify that.     Morgan  (and now Jackson and Ginger's) Mom is our Aunt Jane Marinello and she has been helping homeless dogs find good homes for all these years.  But what she did recently truly deserves to be celebrated across the globe.      Aunt Jane has a neighbor named Thelma who turned 100 on April 10th.  A couple of weeks before her birthday Aunt Jane took Amanda some gardenias just to make Amanda’s day a little brighter.  Amanda has a 14 year old Maltese named Muff

Dear Aunt Foley:   I was enjoying Hobo Hudsons’ new book Bioterroisim Seized the Sea (here is a link if you have not read it.)  Hobo was telling the tale of his trying to get to you to obtain your Marauders’ Map of the Internet when he made a comment that he believes I have a crush on him.  I became very concerned.  While I admire Hobo and look up to him as a wonderful big brother I do not have a crush on him.  He is a married man for Bridge’s sake!  I contacted his wife Lily who told me she did not believe I had a crush but this comment made me very worried, I do not want to be thought of as a dog house wrecker.  As you know I have a nervous stomach and have been spraying out my poos ever since I read this.  Can I sue Hobo for pain and suffering and slander?  Pocket Dog. Dear Pocket:  As you know Hobo is always one step ahead of all other dogs.  He had his Mom list herself as the author who chronicled his adventures thwarting bioterrorism on the high seas.  He anticipated that some

After Angel Aran settled in at Rainbow Bridge she immediately began looking for the perfect dog who could help heal her Mom’s broken heart.  She stayed up for days going through application after application until she found the dog:  Her name was Chloe. Once she had found Chloe she popped into her dreams.  She was a rescue dog and she was desperate for a home but Aran wanted to make sure that Chloe had the same qualities:  Kindness, sweetness, faithfulness, and a sweet joy, that Aran had brought to her family.  Luckily Chloe met all the requirements. The next day while Aran’s parents were on the computer searching for the perfect pup I helped Aran guide control of their computer to get Chloe’s picture to pop up on the screen.  When they saw Chloe’s they instantly fell in love.  But her parents still had to fill out an application and wait to see if they were approved. Aran entered the dreams of the people at the Rescue and he assured them that Chloe could not possibly find a b

Dear Aunt Foley:  Why are there so many stairs leading from Rainbow Bridge to where we reside.  Why can’t there be an elevator or an escalator?  Angel Max Dear Angel Max:  I received this question several days ago and responded to it immediately   I thought it was a capitol idea.  In fact, when I first arrived at the Bridge I was met at the top of the stairs by Max’s Aunt Ladybug.  I always assumed the stairs were her idea and was too polite to tell her the climb was exhausting.  But, after Max’s, query I asked Ladybug and she said she did not know why the stairs were there either. We formed a committee including our mortal friend Hobo Hudson and drew up several designs for a luxury elevator to lift newly arrive angels to the top of the Bridge in style with treats and drinks.  I designed an elevator that was like Willy Wonka’s and could fly over the Bridge so the newly arriving angels could see everything. (Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka, not Johnny Depp’s.  There is nothing here based