The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

This tail should have been written weeks ago.  I started it several times but my friends, Odie, then Leo, then Paco, arrived, and each week they needed to be recognized.  This tail was set aside. Luckily, more than a week has passed without a close friend joining us.  So I can grip my quill and finally recognize a dog who never had a home, but had a lot of love. Let me introduce you to Dirty Harry. Before coming to the Bridge, Harry lived on the streets of Oildale, CA.  He never had, nor wanted, a home.  In a world of domesticated animals, where dogs sleep in warm beds and are warm and dry during storms, Harry wanted none of it.  What he wanted wwas independence.   He would not let himself be adopted, or even touched, but he did choose a human. Dirty Harry selected as his human our friend Yolanda Agredano, mom to our cute little friend Beaux Jangles.  Miss Yolanda is a postal worker delivering mail on the streets Harry liked to roam.   Harry had no schedule, no routine,

I would like to thank all members of the Tanner Brigade for having patience with the weasels who run the site that hosts our playground:  Ning.  For more than half of last weekend the site was down.  My parents submitted three tickets stating there were issues signing on TB, and Hattie’s Mom Miss Darla submitted one as well.   They answered Miss Darla and told her they could only discuss the problem with mommy (to whom they had not responded.)  Mommy asked Miss Darla to respond with mommy’s email and a request that they contact her.  The weasels did not answer. I took control of mommy’s Facebook page and navigated to the Ning Page.  Ning’s motto is Ning:  Your brand.  Your members.  Your control.  I posted this: ‎ Marsha AndTed Gay ‎ to  Ning · “Ning. Your Brand. Your Members. Your 500: Unexpected Error.” This inspired a post from Ning stating that several of their sites were experiencing the same problem, and it has been corrected.  If I have learned one thing dealing with We

They put every obstacle before me.  They pushed me beyond my limits.  But they could not contain me. After more than two years of being illegally detained when my parents left the house, I have gained my freedom. I give them credit for trying.  They duct taped my cage together.  They put weights on the top of the crate after I broke through it by pushing off my back legs and opening the door with my hard head.  They put me in between a wall and a bureau after I escaped from the side door.  They used bungee cords to attach my crate to Pocket’s so I could not force the door open.  While I never figured out how to escape from this trap, my attempts scared Pocket and gave her diarrhea, so we were placed in separate rooms. Once I was no longer attached to Pocket’s crate I studied the clasps on the front of mine.  As soon as my parents left I used my paws to turn the clasp from the inside, then I pushed the bar holding the clasp, pressed against the door and walked out of the crate.  

It was either pink toenails and ribbons or pierced nipples

The small, brown body of Paco, our friend from Italy, was lifted by Enzo’s escalator to the mountaintop overlooking Rainbow Bridge.  Most dogs arrive at the Bridge standing proudly, all their strength and power being returned to them the further they rise.  But not our Italian friend sweet Paco. I have never known a dog who fought so hard, who gave every ounce of his strength, to stay with his mom.  Our friend Willie, who had battled cancer for years before crossing the River of Life, came to be known as the dog who said no.  I thought that I would call Paco the dog who said no, but I would cleverly use the Italian word for no.  I was disappointed to learn the Italian word for no is no. And Paco said no a lot.  His heart was failing, he needed several shots a day.  He had numerous attacks when he could not breathe.  His mom gave him oxygen until the crisis passed.  She would never give up on Paco and Paco would never give up on her. His mom left work to be with him in case he ha

We do not know if we can handle any more heartbreak as more friends join us at Rainbow Bridge.  Adding to this distress is the violence that is becoming more prevalent in society.  Is Earth really the best place for dogs?  Or is there somewhere we could live peacefully? The Rainbow Bridge High Council asked me to lead an expedition to determine if Mars would be a more proper home for dogs. I selected three other doganaut's to go with me.  I picked Brody because he can always find food.  I choose Morgan because he is a great diplomat and I took Tommy Tunes to photograph the entire expedition. Things did not go well. First, there was the lift off.  Tommy forgot to strap himself in and crashed against our window screen as we left the ground.  He stayed that way as we burst through the atmosphere.  The G-Forces we so great his mouth opened, and we got a drool bath. I was able to pull him down and get him strapped back into his seat. I was in charge of the landing craft.  T

This week our parents went to the movies to watch “The Secret Life of Pets.”  River and I decided to use this opportunity to discover more about “The Secret Life of Humans.” River Song put a paperclip in the lock on her crate.  It went unnoticed, and she was able to get, then get me free.  We snuck out the door as our unsuspecting parents were leaving, and stealthy climbed into the car’s back seat, then slipped out of the vehicle when they reached the movies.  While they got in line to buy tickets we scurried into the first theater available ready to learn about human’s secrets. Apparently, aliens are quite the concern in the human world.  Not the kind of alien that sneaks into the country either.  These are one from outer space.  There are entire cities that have been wiped out by extraterrestrials.  I don’t know how humans have been keeping this from us.  But no one is upset about the destruction.  They are more concerned that the aliens attacked in a much more entertaining fash

Another inch or two either way and I could pick this lock

As I lay in my oxygen tent on a Sunday morning, my last as a mortal dog, my brother from another breed, Leo, mustered up all his magic to lay next to me in spirit form, so I would not be alone.  When my teary-eyed parents arrived, I knew it was time.   I kissed Leo and told him to go back to his mom.  My last promise to him was that I would come for him when it was his time. When it was his time, I didn’t want to go.  If I went then, that meant that Leo, who had contracted an infection after undergoing his third chemotherapy treatment to treat leukemia, time as a mortal dog was over We dogs need permission from the Big Guy to pass back to the moral side in spirit form.  He always says no, but to help Leo with his transition, he let me go. I arrived in spirit form and lay next to Leo.  He was so weak I could reach inside of him and lift his soul like paper.   I gave him time to say goodbye, then I lifted his slight soul and flew towards Rainbow Bridge.  By the time I arrived

Everyone at Rainbow Bridge watches humans rip apart themselves and their planet, and we wait for the inevitable influx of new angels created by their actions.   Being mortal is like being a parent at a little league or soccer game.  The parents yell, scream, stamp their feet and act foolish while watching twelve-year-olds and younger try to play baseball. Being immortal is like being a parent of a teenager who goes back to a little league or soccer game and wonders:  “Did we really ever act like that?” There is so much I could pick from as an example of how mortals are destroying themselves, but I would like to concentrate on one this week: Forest fires. There were three separate fires in Colorado.  Two are under suspicion, and one was started by people accidentally.  They then fled the scene without putting it out because who wants to be caught in a forest fire? We had two friends’ families caught in the path of the fire.  The family of Kyna B Bear and her dogs R and Shyl

I know Foley writes her Pup of the Week blogs where she often honors pups who crossed the River of Life.  I have respected her wishes.  Having lived with her for six years, I know never to cross her. But I cannot let the passing of my brother Leo go by without comment.  I love all my online friends, but Leo was very special to me.  When Foley lay alone spending her last days in an oxygen tent, Leo did what I could not.  He forced his way into her dreams so she would not be alone. I have been Foley’s little sister for a long time.  She has always been a bright, shining star that still attracts attention from Rainbow Bridge.  I am happy to let Foley have the attention.  I am passive and quiet.  But Leo always treated me as Foley’s equal.  When Foley passed, and I was worried about taking her place Leo assured me that I could do it.   Shortly after Foley passed we received a package from Leo’s mom.  It was a beautiful painting of my sweet sister.  That portrait meant so muc

He touched my funny spot

Did your parents go see the Secret Life of Pets?  Are you afraid they will learn any of your secrets?

Pocket, River Song, and I have been playing with Odie and Scooby on Saturday nights since before Scooby became an angel last year.  We have gone beyond the stars, to the deepest depths of the ocean, and even back to puppyhood.  When Scooby, I, or another angel friend have celebrated a special day our mortal siblings were always invited.  Just a few days ago I plucked Odie from his dreams for my birthday party. On Friday morning, when I recognized Odie’s familiar scent, and saw him standing by the river, I thought he has overslept at my party and had not returned to his mortal, sleeping form.  I ran towards him to tell him he needed to get home or his mom would be worried about his round the clock nap when I saw the sadness in his eyes.  Odie would no longer be lifted from his mortal dreams for angel adventures.  He was an angel. I asked him what circumstances brought him to Rainbow Bridge.  He said his mom thought he was acting strangely.   Now let me tell you about his mom:

This week I celebrated my 16th birthday.  I was lucky enough to celebrate 12 birthdays with my family.  I passed to Rainbow Bridge just before my 13th.  Since then each party has become bigger, as more of my friends have joined me here.  They have also grown sadder, for the same reason.   We do party quite hard here.  We partake of every type of food and we can. We even eat cake.  And we drink more than we should. Our birthdays mark another year separated from our parents.  We feel the same weight of separation our parents feel.  We dance faster and play harder to push that pain of separation away just for a bit.   We even have silent fireworks, which are much preferable to the loud, annoying, frightening, fireworks that scare many of our mortal friends, causing some to flee their yards and end up in shelters until their family fetches them.  With all the advances in technology, humans have discovered I am stunned that silent fireworks are not among them. My birthday is

We recently celebrated the Fourth of July.  Pocket and I have been supervising our parents doing garden work for four months.  Mommy says the gardens are still not ready to be shown online but Pocket and I disagree.  We stole mommy’s camera and took the photos.  Unfortunately we are not very tall so our pictures are all ground level. This is a picture of the giant bicycle planter.  We don’t know why there are plants riding a bike.  We have stopped asking questions.  We just hope the flowers look pretty. This is the path that leads to the lighthouse.  We don’t know why the lighthouse needs a path or who lives in the lighthouse.  There are bird feeders and daddy says the path keeps seeds from creating weeds.  We are hoping to catch the elves who live in the house. This is our front, rock garden.  We like to pee near hear.  We bark at that rabbit everyday but it never moves.  I hate that darn rabbit. You can see Saint Anthony walking through our main garden.  We don