The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

What kind of place is Rainbow Bridge?  It is a place of peace.  It is a place of beauty.  It is a place of joy.  It is a place where you are broken hearted to greet one of your closest friends. Before I document her arrival let me transcribe the arrivals before the arrival:  People.  Not that it is strange for people to greet their pups.  But this wasn’t a person or two, this was dozens.  Some young, some old (you can pick your body type here like you can pick clothes off a rack) all of whom had been touched by the dog bounding up the final steps of Enzo’s escalator. Bella summited the top of the Bridge and looked down at me with her big Husky eyes.  I was so happy to see my friend.  We waited for the dark cloud, filled with all the mortal tears sparked by her passing, to slip over us, then burst open, drenching us all.  Then I, with shaking paws, gave the oath of angeldom to my friend.  She then huddled with her long time friend Scooby who helped design her wings, legendary ange

Sometimes we Angels look down on humans and see the selfishness, the greed, the seven deadly sins as visible as volcanoes overflowing in anger.  But there are other lights too.  They can be harder to see because they get overwhelmed by the negative light but they do shine brighter. This is the light emitted by the good people.  The ones who care about others, love others, and give everything they can to help other those in needs and dogs in needs. At the beginning of February there was a great shining light coming from Enid Oklahoma where our friend Angel Apollo’s family lived, where his brother Bishop now runs the pack and where his Mom Miss Kimberli, no matter what tragedies she has suffered, or how much pain she is in, continues to take in, care for, manage the health of, and find home for, any stray dog who crosses her path. And one light can inspire many more lights.  Romeo, Copper and Jax’s Mom Miss Karen and Roscoe’s Mom Miss Sandy were conversing one day

We weren’t even watching the Super Bowl.  We knew it was a historic game.  This would be the Dowager Countess’ last Super Bowl after a storied career.  No one could dispute that she is the greatest of all time. Mommy doesn’t dislike football, she just finds it tedious.  She does like to watch the end of the game when there is a chance of drama worthy of the Dowager Countess.  My downfall was that Mommy likes to watch the commercials.  Usually she DVRs everything and fast forwards through the commercials but Super Bowl Sunday is opposite day and she only watches the commercials. And that was my undoing. A commercial came on for a sugary, highly caffeinated bottle of green soul rot that no one in their right mind would buy without a marketing hook.  I had my eyes shut paying no attention to the drivel when I heard the words “Puppy Monkey Baby” and felt a chill go down my spine. I have been “Baby” since the day I walked into our house.  Two years ago, against

Kids, this is what they call nature's toilet bowl

I have been blessed with great friends on both side of the River of Life but one of my favorite friends is Wishbone. It seems like I have known him my entire life and afterlife.  I first met him when he was saved by superstar dog rescuer Paula Malatesta.  Wishbone was a southern coonhound who would not hunt and was marked for death.   Paula saved him and gave him a wonderful home. But Wishbone was still a very scared dog and he escaped from Paula’s backyard.  He was gone for several days.  One Sunday morning as Paula was leaving church she saw Wishbone and ran after him.  She tumbled down a hill while in pursuit but she managed to get Wishbone back and returned him to his home. Wishbone lived with the Malatesta pack until his Mom took ill and her family thought the large amount of dogs she was taking care of were the cause of her health issues.  They removed the dogs from the pack.  Wishbone, having already honed his instinct for danger, fled before he could be co

I was walking in the woods enjoying nature yesterday when I heard a gunshot.  I turned around to see Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia shooting at some rabbits (don’t worry about the rabbits, they just play dead for the humans.  Rabbits are angels too.)  He was happy as a clam.   I gracefully interrupted him and introduced myself as a fellow member of the Bench.  He told me that of course he had heard of me although I think he may have been being polite.  I asked him who he thought should replace him and he said it no longer mattered to him.  He was happy to be hunting without any distractions.  He saw another rabbit and he slowly moved forward.  “Why don’t you do it?” he suggested before he disappeared behind a blind. “Why not indeed?” I thought.  I know that the conservatives in the Senate do not want the President to nominate a candidate for the Supreme Court and if he does they do not want to vote for the candidate because that would be doing something and t

This is my crate as it was found on Saturday February 12, 2016.  I had been placed inside this crate when my Mom went out shopping with me Dad that afternoon.  When my parents got home I was standing at the kitchen window barking my head off.  They went into the bedroom and found the crate looking exactly it looked when I was placed into it.  The question is:  How did I manage to escape? The only explanation is that I am the Harry Houdini of dogs (which should not be a surprise since we are both from European countries that no one can find on a map.)  I was placed in a crate, with the doors locked and bungeed tightly shut and I escaped leaving no evidence of the point of escape.  As a magician I am bound by our code not to tell you how I did it.   But if you really want to know OK. I will now take you inside the mind of the world’s greatest dog magician as she attempts to make her escape. “OK back legs push, push, I got my head through and oops  I’m chokin

I was promised more bubbles

I am asking for prayers for some friends.  I am among an army of angels waiting to fly these prayers up to the Big Guy so pitch in with prayers for the following friends.   You should know Paco by now:  My dear Italian friend.  Last week I wrote about Kiera whose name, thanks to Angel Apollo, disappeared from my list of new Bridge members.  Paco’s name has not appeared on my list because Paco fights every day to keep his name off that list. He has been suffering from serious respiratory attacks.  Poor Paco has gone through several of these in the last month.  With each attack his Mom becomes more concerned that she is witnessing his final breaths.  She treats him with Lasix which has stopped the attacks.  She just wants more time with her little man, and that is not too much to ask.  A little more time.  Please say a prayer that gets lots more days in the Italian sunshine. This week we received a terrible shock.  Our friend Smoochy has bone cancer in his leg.

Oh humans.  How we love you.  And how you study us.  You can’t just accept us for being your wonderful angels on both sides of the Bridge.  You need to know what makes us tick.   The newest study released is about how intelligent we are.  How intelligent we are?  Well we get you to clean up our poop so maybe the question is how intelligent are you? That is our intelligence tests for humans.  How do you pick up our poo?  Do you grab it with one swift movement?  Do you fumble it and get it on your fingers?  Do you forget the bags and have to go back for them?  Or, most ignorant of all, do you leave it on someone else’s yard or the pavement where it becomes part of someone’s shoe prints.  It is very embarrassing for us dogs when our human fails this test. Then there is the food test.  This one is simple.  Feed us!  Now!  We don’t care what it is.  If you hand it to us it will be eaten.  But so many human get stuck feeding us like Dr. Ben Carson stuck off stage before

Most days I enjoy being a little dog.  Laps are bigger when you are little.  I can be picked up and snuggled.  I don’t scare anyone (although my barking and failure to curb my enthusiasm does annoy people.)  But there is one time I don’t like being small.  That is when it snows. I love seeing you big dogs romping in the snow.  You stand so tall with your torso high above the crisp white topping while your feet are kept cold and fresh.  Then you start to jump up and down and the snow is flying.  My gosh that looks like fun! I wish I could have a day like that but snow is the enemy of the small dog.  While the rest of you are romping and rolling I come to a big pile of snow, three times my size, and I look up at it, an insurmountable mountain.  Occasionally a kind hand will lift me up and put me on the snow, and I can take several steps but the snow cracks, my legs go through and I get stuck. Just give me a day.  One day to experience the snow like a big dog.

Hey baby, how about some Netflix and chill?

I was lying in bed resting while reading some of my favorite blogs when a little blue bird flew onto my window sill. “Angel Apollo has requested you join him on his cloud,” the bird chirped then flew off towards the sun.  “What now?” I thought.  Angel Apollo’s Dad had recently moved onto Apollo’s cloud with his sister Shakira, his vet Dr. Joel, and a huge weeping willow tree. I found Apollo and his Dad under the weeping willow playing fetch.  Apollo dropped the stick and ran towards me.  “Do you have a dog named Kiera from Oklahoma due today?” he asked.  I reached into my wings, took out my phone, clicked my app, found my schedule and saw that indeed there was a Kiera from Oklahoma due soon. “Call it off!” Angel Apollo barked.  “Right now!  Do something.”  I began telling Apollo that I have tried doing this several times and it never worked when my phone beeped.  I looked down and the name Kiera had disappeared from my list.  This had never happened before. “Thank the Big Guy.

Five years is a long time.  Many things change over that time.  Countless marriages have collapsed, young lovers have drifted apart, children have become estranged from their parents, but one thing doesn’t change: The love that parents have for their pups that have gone to the Bridge. Five years ago we lost a giant:  Baron, also known as Bear, the dog so great he had to be named twice.  He was the model of a German Shepherd Dog:  Strong, loyal, handsome and brave.  He lived most of his life pre dog social media but when Baron joined a lost site known as Doggyspace and pups began to dominate the online world we knew we were in the presence of royalty. Baron was an inspiration the first time we met him.  We knew if we could instill in our parents the love Baron inspired in his Mom we would have accomplished our mission on Earth.  As Baron aged his legs began to bother him and he was the first dog I met who was brave enough to go to acupuncture to keep himself healthy. By the end