Sunday, May 31, 2015
Have you ever heard of that Benjamin Button movie? It’s about this Daddy who lives his life backwards. Life on the Immortal side of the River can be like living life backwards, at least when it comes to mortal life. We meet someone after their mortal lives ends, learn how they crossed the river, and slowly learn about their lives backwards. The last story we hear is about their birth litter.
I met Angel Simon at the beginning of the year. He had spent 16 years on the mortal side, quite a long time, his latter years spent with his young Mom. They had a very strong bond and both were having difficulty being without one another. I sent Simon into his Mom’s dreams to tell her the right to people to reach out to over the Internet for comfort and I made sure Simon met the right pups to help him after they lost their Doggyspace home.
Simon’s beloved Mom Emily was not his first Mom. He lived with a family for nine years. Then that family got a new dog. Simon and the new dog did not get along. Inexplicably the family turned Simon over to a rescue. The poor boy was lost. But it turned out to be the best thing to happen to him.
A short time later he was saved, and in turn saved his Mom who had recently lost the grandmother who helped raise her and her childhood dog. Hs Mom said their eyes locked and it was love at first sight. They were inseparable. They went to the same places, and they slept on the same bed, and when Simon could no longer climb on the bed it was gone. His Mom put her mattress on the floor where the two happily snuggled together.
I don’t know the circumstances of their parting. I do know it was sudden and Simon was in discomfort. The vet had to help him go. But the memories of their separation are still too fresh for both of them. And it may be that way forever. But that’s OK. The end isn’t important. It is all the love that came before the end that matters.
Simon spends most of his day watching over his Mom. He is learning some angel tricks. He is entering her dreams and his presence is so strong she can remember them in the morning. He also leaves behind some of his hair as a reminder that he was just home.
But mostly Simon spends his day lying in the grass thinking of his Mom and somewhere his Mom is thinking about him. One day I was watching him, and the sun reached the perfect point in the sky, and extending from Simon and going high in the air all the way to his Mom was the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen. And Simon made me realize why it is called Rainbow Bridge. When we are thinking about how much we love our parents, and our parents are thinking about how much they love us, we create a rainbow and said rainbow is how Rainbow Bridge got it’s name.
After that I began noticing more rainbows rising out of my friends and heading off to maintain that unbreakable bond between parent and child.
Those of you on the mortal side of the River, if you see a rainbow, know that one of your Bridge babies is thinking of you, and it is creating this beautiful multicolored bridge made of love, and remember Angel Simon who taught me what rainbows are.
Friday, May 29, 2015
This is a picture of my garden. I am very proud of it. During the long, cold, snowy winter I would enter Mommy’s dreams and we would spend all night planning every plant and flower down to the final detail. But we were not prepared for two additions.
The first can barely be seen. It is a pink rose bush. It is a shoot from Daddy’s grandfather’s rose bush. It is wrapped around the small black trellis at the bottom of the picture. Daddy’s cousin Jan had been the caretaker of the family flower and we were honored to share caretaking duties although I was not sure I wanted the rose bush in my garden but Mommy assured me with a little luck we would soon have lovely pink roses to put a smile on the face of my blue lady.
The second detail was my angel. For two years after my passing my angel lit up my garden at night. It spent the winter in the shed where it would be safe and unburied. Early in the spring Daddy took it out of the shed and planted it at the edge of my garden by the bush Hobo Hudson’s parents sent me. But when the sunset my angel would not come to light.
Mommy and I knew what we had to do. It was time for a new angel. She found a special angel that lit even brighter and changed color. Mommy ordered it and a few days later it arrived.
Daddy took it out of the package and put it in the ground. I couldn’t wait to see it. I was sure it would be the prettiest angel ever. Daddy took the old angel, the one who looked over my garden for two years, the one that shone all night long and let my parents know I was thinking of them, and brought it over to the trash barrel.
Suddenly I realized I could not let my angel go. It had served me so loyally. It is very difficult for an angel to change something on the mortal side of the bridge but I concentrated on my original angel as much as I could. Daddy had placed it in the trash and was closing the top when I made the angel light up for the first time this spring.
Daddy saw it glowing and removed it from the trash. He brought it over to the garden and put it opposite the new angel and waited for night time. Right at dusk, before my new angel lit up, the old angel shined brightly. it didn’t shine for long, and was extinguished shortly after my new brighter, more colorful angel lit up.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Six years ago, on May 9th to be exact, after being blocked from DS, and having lost all the blogs we wrote on that site, an angry and determined Foley Monster decided to start her own blog: One where she could bark whatever was on her mind and fight for the rights of dogs everywhere. She named it the Foley Monster and Pocket blog.
I was touched that my sister included my name in the blog title. I thought it was honorary until I learned she expected me to provide content. For Foley writing was easy. She could spin a tail, turn an everyday occurrence into an epic story and write loving tributes to our friends. Foley took blogging very seriously. As for me I was more interested in a warm bed, some tasty kibble and a lap of kindness. But when Foley told me to step up and blog I did it. Making her angry is never a recommended option.
Over the years we started our Pup of the Week blog on Sunday, Wordless Wednesday, Ask Aunt Foley, on Fridays, and thanks to Kol’s Notes (http://kolchakpuggle.com/) Mom Jodi Chick we updated our web page design and changed the name to Small Tales.
Then two years ago next week Foley accepted a position as a judge at Rainbow Bridge and she left us. I did not know what would happen to the blog. I certainly could not take it over full time, I had neither her talent or her drive. But Foley would not let something like moving to the immortal side of the River of Life keep her from blogging. She now reports from her post at the top of the lift leading to Rainbow Bridge, assuring parents that their beloved pets have arrived, and how they are coping with their new immortal life.
And now we have my younger sister River Song blogging with us.. I think my blogs, which are sweet and innocent are more of a draw than River’s, who is always bitchy and complaining, but I must admit whenever we put a glaring picture of River on the blog we always get more hits.
Last year we published Small Tales, The Adventures of Two Tiny Terrierists, our first blog collection, and Foley is currently editing “Tails From Rainbow Bridge” a collection of blogs she has written about friends who have crossed the River of Life.
Last month we wrote our one thousandth blog. The blog has changed a lot over time. When Foley was with us there were wild balloon rides, White House visits, and raids on castles. River and I have settled into a quieter lives with less fanciful adventures, although Foley assures us that River is growing into a dog who is capable of disastrous decisions that could lead to fun and mayhem. Regardless Foley always has been and always will be our main voice..
Thank you for sticking with us through 1,000 blogs. I think about 260 of them were pretty good. Not a great batting average but the pictures have always been cute. We love nothing better than to comfort parents who are sad and to gives smiles here and there.
Hopefully we will give you reason to stick with us over the next 1,000 blogs.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
We think our parents would be used to it.. The vomiting, the unexplained sudden weight loss, the loss of appetite, and the inability to explain what is going on inside.. It happens to us dogs a lot. But when it happens to one of our parents it is much scarier. We are hindered by our inability to communicate. Since humans have no such hindrances when no one knows what is wrong with them it is very troubling.
It has been a week since Reese, Kole, and Angel Meika’s Uncle Rob, one of their two Dads, has shown such symptoms. He lies tonight in a hospital in St. Louis, seven hours away from his family, with no answers, and the cause of much worry.
Rob has been sick for some time but he has been managing his illness until last week. In the past years he has spent many nights in the hospital and has had operations.
There is nothing scarier for a dog then when one of their parents is missing. Since Rob found him abandoned on the street a year ago Kole has rarely strayed from Rob’s side. Now Kole lays on the bed waiting for Rob to join him, not understanding where his friend went, or when he will come home.
I often write about how lost humans are without their dogs but when it is the human who is missing it affects us dogs ten times more than it affects humans. It is why we need to go first. Our parents can, over time, deal with our loss, but pups aren’t equipped with dealing with the loss of a parent, even temporarily.
While not knowing where Rob is has been terribly stressful on Reese and Kole, Angel Meika does know where Rob is, and has spent nights, while Rob is sleeping, cuddled next to him, Meika is very scared too. She is an angel, and watches over her family, but there are limits to what angels can do. Meika brings comfort to Rob, her Dad, and her siblings, but she can’t cure what is wrong, and most of her days are spent nervously waiting.
Rob entered the hospital at the start of the week and then was transferred to St. Louis. After two days of confusion the medical professionals decided to operate mid-week. Reese and Kole’s father Jeff began the seven hour trek to St Louis.. Half way there he got a call that the surgery had been postponed until Friday.
On Friday Jeff made the seven hour trip to be with Rob during the operation. Minutes before surgery Jeff learned it had been canceled. The hospital did not have enough of Rob’s blood in storage.. The surgery was postponed to Wednesday..
Jeff had to make a seven hour trip back home. He expected Reese and Kole from nervousness and lack of attention to have either destroyed the house,or at least soiled it. But our friends knew their parents were scared and they were perfect gentlemen who spent the day calmly waiting for one of their Dads to return.
Money was tight with Reese and Kole’s family before this ordeal. Their computer has gone to the Computer Bridged and they don’t have money to replace it as this time so they can all communicate by Facebook and texts right now. Despite not being connected to all of us they do need our prayers this week so both their Dads can be back home with them and the madness ends.
Currently Reese and Kole have been showing signs of stress with bad appetites and indigestion. The situation, for this wonderful family, is getting worse.
We are praying you come home safe and sound and snuggle with Kole again. He needs you.
Friday, May 22, 2015
During my first weeks of public life, after I first joined the late Doggyspace, I made many friends. But one of the friends had already shed his mortal coil and gone to the Bridge. I had never had a friend on the immortal side of the River but one night Fred popped into my dreams and showed me the paradise that awaited me when I crossed over.
Fred arrived at the Bridge before dogs began social networking. The crowds that now greet pups who cross the River were not there when Fred climbed the stairs. Just personal friends and family members. But as soon as his Mom’s dogs, Junior and Luca, got online and made thousands of friends, whenever one of those pups crossed the River Fred was there to greet them.
Before dogs began blogging learning how to adapt to life at the Bridge was an adjustment for new angels but Fred began teaching them their duties as soon as they got their wings. He not only taught them how to be angels for their pups and parents but he trained them on how to teach others to do the same.
Now there is an army of dogs waiting at the Bridge, myself included, to greet our friends and to train them the way Fred trained us. To honor Fred I recently appointed him an Angel Captain.
We haven’t barked as much with Junior and Luca was we would like in the last few years. Human issues crept up and blocked block our barks. We know their wonderful Mom would like to giver her dogs the Freedom to Bark they had in the past and hopefully they will in the future.
But for us angels at the Bridge we have Fred to bark with everyday. And we are better angels for it.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
There are times in life a dog just needs to disappear: When it is crate time, bath time, tooth brushing time, it’s disappearing time We have, not including bathrooms and laundry, four rooms, two of which are blocked by closed doors, so places to hide are difficult to come by. I have discovered a place but haven’t been able to get inside.
When my parents come to get me I stand, put my head down, lift my stubby tail and walk in circles. It took my parents a while to figure out that I was trying to disappear up my own butt hole.
I have come close several times. I can get my nose to it (this is easier when I am sitting down but I don’t have the momentum to get up there if I am sitting.) But I am just not long enough to get inside my own butt.
Someday I hope to do so and once I do my parents won’t be able to take me where I don’t want to be. and be safe.
I told Pocket, who is not nearly as bendy as I am, about my plan. She reminded me that while I am quite clever I am also impulsive and often leap into things. like my own butt hole, without an exit strategy which, in this instance would require me to back out of my butt.
Entering my butt seems quite easy but backing out of it seems quite difficult momentum wise, agility wise, and otherwise. And I don’t think my ribs give me enough room to turn around inside myself.
Still, I hate the crate, and having my teeth brushed, so, until I think of something else, shoving myself up my own butt is the only answer.
I better bring a lighter so I can see.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Oh the problems we angels have. Last week we wrote about Willie feeling guilty over his Mom’s breaking her leg. This week it was Brody who was afraid he made a mistake.
Brody chose Finley to move into his house and take care of his family. Everything was going perfectly. Finley fit in with the family like a duck in water. Mom Candice loved him. The kids loved him. Everything was going perfectly And then one day last week Mom Candice felt a hard lump on Finley.
Hard lumps are never good. Parents hope for a cyst but fear the worst. Mom Candice made an appointment with her vet.
Meanwhile Brody was as worried as Mom Candice. He knew his Mom had been through too much: More than most woman could handle and she could not take something happening to Finn. “I checked everything,” a worried Brody said. “How he was with kids, cats, Mom. If he was gentle, sweet, loving. They all came back as yes. But lumps? I didn’t check him for lumps. Who check for lumps?”
I assured Brody that no angel can check for lumps on another dog. We aren’t allowed to touch the mortals and even if we were the lump was covered by fur. Plus it may not have been there when Finley got Brody’s stamp of approval. But Brody spends his whole day watching over his family. He’s a worrier and worries worry.
The next day, when Finley went to the vet Brody became even more nervous. The vet took tissue from around the hard lump but did not get enough to make a determination. Both Brody and Mom Candice spent the entire day of fretting, thinking of one another, and praying for Finley.
The results were good news and bad. The good news was that it was not a tumor and not cancer. A sigh of relief could be heard from Arizona to Italy. The bad news is that the doctors don’t know what the hell the hard lump is. Could be a BB, could be some vegetation that got under the skin, could be a meteor, and it will probably have to be removed. But whenever it is not cancer it is good news, So we tip our tail to Finley, send Mom Candice kisses on the breeze, and buy Brody a beef beer to calm him down.
I also need to recognize our friends Paco who scared his Mom beyond scared. He suffered an episode that left him paralyzed lying is his own urine. Paco’s vet suggested he be given a cortisonic pill. Miraculously Paco was soon up and walking around. He has a vet appointment on Monday to find out what happened. He could use some prayers.
And finally we must recognize a giant of a dog who got his wings this week. Goose spends his time in Blogville writing the wonderful Gospel of Goose blog. This week the train to the Bridge came for him and he made his journey to his final home.. A sweet Pastor’s dog Goose is overqualified to be an angel, While we will miss his wise and kind words; the compassion he displayed and the love he spread to everyone in Blogville, and his Mom will miss her best friend, mortal dogs now have an angel watching over them full time. One of the sweetest angels of all.
Before he went to the Bridge he took his last mortal blog and left us with these parting words: “Live each day to the fullest, for it is a gift. Love often, growl less. Take time to smell the roses. Let those who surround you know they are loved. Life is beautiful my friends, so see it, share it, create it. Oh and this one last thing, STICKS!!!! If you see a stick in need do me a favor, help it out.”
Very wise words. And living life the the fullest is something Goose and Reese knew how to do, and Paco and Finley know how to do.
Friday, May 15, 2015
It has taken two years, a lot of hard work, several prototypes, the disciplining of many minions, and countless sleepless nights but the Foley Monster statue has finally been completed. Here is the finished product.
The statue was commissioned by my parents to go in my garden (where my ashes were to go but are still kept in the house) next to the lovely plant Hobo Hudson sent us. There would be a ticket booth built outside the garden and for a small fee pups and humans could walk my garden and gaze at my statue.
When the statue arrived it had a lot of this white packing stuff on it. Some was stuck in the teeth. More was on the fur. Mommy picked it up. Suddenly I was in the statue. Mommy carried me to the kitchen sink and she softly washed me with a face cloth like she used to and then put me on the counter to dry. When she did she rubbed my ears and talked to me.
When she removed her hands I popped out again. I realized I would be in the statue whenever Mommy put her hands on it. The statue couldn’t go in the garden! I would be out in the rain, the hot sun, my bright eyes would fade, my perfect fur would change. I hoped Mommy knew this.
Then I calmed down and listened to Mommy and Daddy. They were sitting at the table talking about how much it looked like me. They began to pet it again and I was there, on the table, just like I used to be, and they were petting me. At that moment the message came through: They could not put me in the garden leaving me exposed to the elements.
They put me on my table, next to my ashes, with my mug, my gavel, and Pam Bolton’s card. I am facing Mommy’s chair. Sometimes she looks at me, and talks to me, and when she does I am in the statue watching over her. I know some people would think Mom is crazy for talking to a statue but pet parents will understand how normal, and comforting it can be.
Mommy and Daddy give me a head scratch before they go to bed at night, when they wake up in the morning, and sometimes while passing by. It feels so wonderful to experience human touch again.
They say you can’t go home again but the truth is you can, if only for minutes at a time.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
I am nervous by nature: I worry about my parents when they are gone; I worry about them when they cough or wince; I worry when there are loud noises, activity outside, and critters in my yard. Now I have something new to be worried about. I am in danger of being replaced by a robot.
An Australian researcher Jean-Loup Rault suggests that human’s insistence on over breeding is going to create too many people which won’t leave room for us dogs and we are going to be replaced by robotic dogs.
Oh man, I don’t want to be replaced by a robot. I have put in years of work to gain my Mom’s trust and somewhere in a laboratory is tin on wheels programed to know everything it took me years to learn. And it doesn’t pee or poop either. Oh it might leak some motor oil now and then but no where near as much as I leak.
This report says that humans interact with robotic pets in the same way that they interact with real ones. Oh my gosh: Who would want a troubling little thing like me when they get the same thing from a robot who doesn’t come loaded with the problems I have?
Mommy and Daddy both assured me that they would never take a robotic dog over me: They want the love and devotion only a real dog can provide. But I have to watch my step. When I get yelled at for barking, or leash pulling, or some other infraction how tempting is it going to be for my parents to prefer a dog who can be quieted by the removal of batteries?
Having watched humans interact, and see how some of their children forget about them one they have grown, wouldn’t people be better off with robot humans than robot dogs? The problem with the world isn’t humans not getting along with dogs but humans not getting along with other humans.
I wouldn’t want a robot parent myself but if they had warm laps, walked well and knew how to feed on schedule I might be persuaded (but not now, no robots will ever replace Mom and Dad.)
Humans making robots to replace them. What can go wrong?
Sunday, May 10, 2015
It is hard for those of you on the mortal side of the Bridge to understand how difficult it is to be an angel. We watch over our parents the best we can but we can’t protect them from every bad thing that happens . This week Angel Willie learned that lesson in a very hard way.
Willie spends a lot of time watching over his Mom. But when she is with his mortal brothers he assumes she is in good paws and spends his time swimming in the river.
Willie stopped watching his Mom just as she was taking Roscoe and Jessie for a walk. When he checked in on her a short while later he found her being loaded into an ambulance. Her knee was heavily wrapped and she was in excruciating pain. He couldn’t find out what had happened. He could only enter his family’s minds while they were sleeping and everyone was too keyed up to sleep.
Willie ran so fast to my cloud he burst through the door and knocked me out of my chair. It took several barks before I could understand: His Mom was hurt and he didn’t why. I took him to Tommy Tunes’ mansion where any answer can be found. Tommy took us to a control room in the basement with thousands of televisions. Our good friend, and long time Rainbow Bridge Angel, Teddy Bond, had placed thousands of cameras around his friend’s parents’ houses so if we miss something we could find out what happened.
Tommy sped through the tapes until he found Willie’s Mom Sandy standing on her landing, locking her front door when suddenly Roscoe took off followed by Jessie. Sandy lost her balance, was pulled down the stairs and landed on her knee, crushing it.
Willie let out a moan seldom heard at the Bridge and covered his eyes. Tommy and I lay down next to him and asked him what was wrong. “It’s all my fault,” Willie said. “I should never have taken my eyes off of Mom. Oh what kind of angel am I?”
We both assured Willie he was a wonderful and devoted angel but there were two rules about being an angel: Rule Number One is that bad things happen to those we are tasked with protecting and Rule Number Two is that there isn’t a damn thing we can do about Rule Number One.
Poor Willie stood up and began to pace muttering to himself. “I told them not to pull Mom on the stairs. And Roscoe! I picked him out especially for Mom. And he was the main puller.”
I went to him and gave him a hug. Tommy sent out a distress call to our other angel friends who joined us. After much discussion we decided upon Willie’s best course of action.
First Willie visited Jessie and Roscoe who were blaming themselves just as much as Willie was. He told them that what happened was not their fault. Dogs do things they shouldn’t, pull at the wrong time, go in the wrong direction, and occasionally humans get hurt. But he knew they loved their Mom, and were heartbroken over the accident. He gave them each a kiss and told them not to worry, that their Mom would be in the hospital for a night or two, and she would need a great deal of care and loving over the next few months as she heals. Willie would not be able to do this, it was up to Roscoe and Jessie, and there were no two dogs he trusted more to take care of his Mom.
Next he assumed the body of a wee fly so he could sneak into the operating room and make sure his Mom’s surgery went accordingly. He then climbed into her dreams even though, because of the anesthesia those dreams were quite disjointed. He spent the next day, when she had to stay at the hospital with complications, and made sure she got home safely.
Today, on her Facebook page, Willie’s Mom posted that she was sure that she felt Willie brush against her twice. And she was correct. She is going to be feeling Willie’s presence a lot in the coming months. He is her angel and he is pressing every boundary of angeldom to do what he can to keep her safe and heal.
And when he can’t he knows she is in good paws with Jessie and Roscoe.
And Sandy, Willie wanted me to leave you with these words.
Happy Mothers Day. I love you.
Friday, May 8, 2015
My minions have been failing me lately. My inbox is full but I am never presented with a question to answer and the minons are falling behind on my grooming needs. So I have stopped them from poking into my inbox and have changed my Friday blog to reporting on what my friends here at Rainbow Bridge are doing.
This week I checked on my old friend Fella. He is the older brother of Hattie Mae and Jackie Lynn. He came to the Bridge shortly after I did and was the first dog I swore in. Waiting for him was his brother in law Sage and Sage’s Mom Jackie. Together they opened the Bridge’s first worm farm.
Fella spends a lot of time working on the work farm now. He enjoys living with Sage but dodged question about living with Jackie, who he referred to as the “Mother in Law” with an eye roll. I am not sure if his Bride Saffon has joined Fella at the Bridge. If she did she did not come through my district. When I asked Fella if Saffron was there he told me a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell then went back to hoeing the ground where his worms were growing.
He told me that he splits time with his other siblings at the Bridge checking in on his Mom. “I am not happy that she still make those outfits for Hattie,” Fella said while separating his worms with the hoe. “I know her body hurts. But she does love dressing Hattie and Jackie up and they do a great job posing for her. Me? I wasn’t much of a model. I tried to model for Mom but was no match for my sisters. I was like that Bruce Jenner guy but I like my man parts, at least what was left of them.”
We reflected on our days at the old DS when his pack was chased away by a pack of bad dog. “ Being the only male in the pack I really wanted to go out there and fight the bad dogs but Hattie and my sister Smartie wouldn’t let me go and Saffron begged me not to get involved so I didn’t. But when your Mom is threatened it is a boy’s dog’s duty to step up and fight.”
I left Fella to his farming but he wanted his Mom to know that all her angels visit her when they can in different forms, usually with wings, and visit her in her dreams, even if she can’t remember the visits, and that they will always love her.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
I had heard of Grumpy Cat but I hadn’t paid any her any mind. I don’t pay attention to cats except for the ones who are my online friends. There is one who comes in our yard. I ignore it. Foley visits me in my dreams and tells me I should bark at it and chase it away but who has the energy?
Recently a friend sent me a link about Grumpy Cat. I have a begrudging respect for Ms. Cat.. Anyone who can carry off Grumpy all the time is OK with me. But the more I read about Ms. Grumpy the Grumpier I became until I turned into Very Grumpy Dog.
This cat is freaking famous. Books, TV, commercials, public appearances: Millions of dollars in revenue, and for what, looking like this?
How can that be worth more than this?
How is this face not worth millions of dollars? Big frown, disproving expression, cranky attitude. I have it all. What’s the difference?
I’ll tell you the difference. First she is white. We don’t like to talk about it but let’s face it whitey gets everything. And then there is the blue eyes which I have on good authority are contacts. And her publicist insist she is a virgin while I have an unwanted teenage pregnancy in my past. (Scuttlebutt is that she’s not a virgin. Blue eyed, rich white girl? Trust me: Somebodies tapped that.)
So how about some love for the Grumpy Dog? There are more dogs than cats in this country. If anyone is going to be the symbol of Grumpy in this country it should be the Grumpy Dog.
If this doesn’t happen I could turn into Totally Pissed Off Dog.And no one wants to see that.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
The sign in front of Enzo’ Garage said “Closed for family obligation.” The doors and windows were locked but being an angel they proved little hindrance. I slipped into the garage. There were cars waiting to fixed, a bulletin board with my friends’ names next to said cars, oily rags and scattered tools laid on the ground, evidence of a hasty departure.
The garage is usually filled with activity: Dogs waiting for their rides to be fixed., gathered in groups, eating some of Tommy’s famous popcorn, enjoying beef pop, playing poker kibble. Soon Enzo will take a break, sitting and delighting our friends with stories about living on Enzo Mountain where the snow piles up over the house and even the trees freeze solid. If the sun is out and the snow still packed Enzo pulls out the hubcaps and the pups go sledding down the mountain. This room where they wait, it is called Friendship, and no dog had a room built stronger friendships than Enzo.
There is a door at the back of Friendship which leads to a long hallway. There are several rooms off the corridor. The first is the art room, also known as the room of Joy. This is where Enzo hangs all the wonderful drawings his Mom draws to make both us and our parents smile. There are drawings of Enzo playing in the snow, playing with his friends and just of his friends. I found a pen and paper and wrote Enzo’s Mom a note telling her how much we all love her paintings and I put my paw print of it so she would know it was from me.
The next door opened to the room of Faith. Enzo and his Mom have such wonderful faith. I look to them, and this faith during my darkest time. I envy their faith.. it helps see them through their darkest days and their faith helps guide us too. I scan the room hoping that Enzo and their Mom have visited this room lately. I am sure they need faith right about now.
Next to Faith is the room of Love. This is a very important room. Enzo’s Mom has reminded us of that this week. When you need to tell someone you love them, and you don’t have the words, come to this room in Enzo’s Garage, find the words, and tell the person or pup that you love them, because you never know when it is your last chance. So don’t forget to visit this most important room, and find the words to tell all those closes to you: “I love you.”
Then comes the room of Understanding. Enzo and his Mom always have great understanding for all of us. No matter how many silly things we do they understand. They seem to understand things we cannot. We hope they can understand what has happened. If they can’t, maybe they can learn something the next door down, in the room called Acceptance.
Way down, past other rooms, at the darkened end of the corridor, is the room that Enzo and his Mom have been locked in this past week, the room called Despair. Inside are many other smaller rooms: Confusion, Anger, and Heartbreak among them. Our friends have been in this room since Enzo’s Mom lost her human daughter this week. She was only granted a few years past 30 in this mortal realm. The order for crossing the River of Life should be: Pup, Mom, Child. When that order is broken the pain is overwhelming, so overwhelming that people get lost in the room of Despair and have a difficult time finding their way out.
Enzo and his Mom need our help to find their way out of the room of Despair. They need prayer, they need kindness, they need us all to stand, with lit candle in our hands in paws, in the corridor, and speak words of love and understanding, until they find their way out of the room of Despair, to the room of Acceptance and Understanding, then to the room of Love, then to the room of Faith, and then Joy and Friendship. It is a very hard corridor to navigate, and often after reaching a room a rogue wave of grief knocks them back to Despair, but I have to believe we can help them find their way out, because no one would try harder to lead us out of Despair than Enzo and his Mom.
Do you give kisses and do your parents like them? Ruby's Answer: I love to give kisses. Daddy takes them as part of being a dog owner....
Are you a trip hazard? Have your parents ever tripped over you? How often? Did anyone get injured
Last year Pocket and I went to see a marvelous show called Jersey Boys. In it the character of the bassist for the Four Seasons, Nick Mas...