The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

The dawn’s early light rose above the mountains that stand just beyond my house on Rainbow Bridge.   My friend Bazier , who many of you know as Blazer, and I crawled towards my bed.   We both climbed in and covered our heads with the blanket.   Both of us were exhausted.   With some minor assistance from me, Bazier had finally accomplished his goal . On the mortal side of the River, in the bedroom of a house in Portland Oregon , two souls slept.   It was Bazier‘s Mom Miss Vicki and her new pup:   A nine-year-old mini poodle named Degas.   Upon his arrival at the Bridge, Bazier had been looking for the perfect dog for his Mom.   It was an arduous task.   Bazier’s passing had broken her heart.     Not only did he need to find the perfect dog but he had to get his Mom to accept another dog in her heart:   A dog who would not be him, who would not be perfection.  How do you replace perfection ?   It is a problem all angel parents face.   But it was especiall

My parents are under the mistaken belief that I am stressed out.   The final straw occurred when my parents found blood droplets outside my crate.   They think I cut my gums chewing the bars .   I refuse to respond to these allegations because my mouth hurts.             My parents decided I needed something to calm down.   Mommy went to the Amazon to look for a highly rated pet anxiety treatment.   She found a treatment called “Pet Relief.”   Mommy liked it because it was a liquid that she could rub on my tummy.   She ordered us a bottle.             A few days later a big package arrived from the Amazon.   Daddy sliced the package open.   He pulled out several connected, inflated bubbles, some paper, and a teeny tiny bottle.   Make a note:   If you order something from the Amazon, and the first thing that pops into my mind is a monkey, it is going to come in a gigantic box.             That night daddy opened the bottle.   It smelled lovely.   He poured some on his h

Ralph never learned the meaning of the phrase:  "Less is more."

I have so many friends who have been ill; I have flown so many prayers up to the Big Guy; I have even welcomed my friend Smoochy, and through it all I have never lost my “temper” or thrown a “tantrum.”   Dogs do get older, they do get sick, and they do go to the Bridge.   That is part of the deal we make when we are born.   But when a young dog gets sick?   I do not understand why young dogs take ill. It has been more than a year since Angel Greta arrived at the Bridge:   She was just a puppy.   She ate a mushroom.   She got sick, and she could not recover.   It was so terribly sad.   I promised I would never let another young friend cross the River of Life because they innocently ate something.   One of the world’s very best dog Moms, Mrs. Barbara, has been dealing with her beloved Josie, who had to have surgery to remove a tumor that had perforated her digestive system.   The surgery saved her life.   The doctor sent an eight-inch sample of her tumor to the lab.   That is

The day Smoochy joined us at Rainbow Bridge was very draining.  I was looking to sleep late the next day.  It was still dark when there was banging on my door.  I got out of bed and stumbled forward. I opened the door catching Smoochy in mid-knock.             Being awoken by an angel on their first night at the Bridge was not unusual.  I had spent many a night comforting them.  But Smoochy was not there to be comforted.  He grabbed me by the paw and pulled me into the crisp night air.             “Foley’s here!” Smoochy announced.  Standing in a circle were Hershey, Smartie, Reba, Willie, Brody, and many other angels.             “Let’s go!” Smoochy yelled, and the group of dogs took off.  I began running as fast as my little legs could carry me.  Then they jumped and began to fly.  I fluttered my wings as hard as I could, and I lifted off.             My friends were far ahead of me, but I caught a gust of wind and, being the smallest of our clan, caught up with t