The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

You guys go ahead.  I will stay here and guard the gate

If you could please vote for our friend Enzo in a photo contest it will be appreciated. If you have a Facebook account then follow this  link   When you are on the Facebook page ask to be friends. After your friendship is accepted follow this link   and like Enzo's picture. This is Enzo We both say thank you

Nigel was sitting up in bed.  His small arms were crossed over his chest.  He was wearing his bulldog face.  It’s a face that I can’t tell if it’s happy, sad, nervous or content.  It’s just bulldog.  But, his bottom left paw tapped on the bed.  He was nervous. On his Parent Vision television, Nigel is watching a car, being driven by his dad, with his mom in the passenger seat, going south down the Jersey Turnpike.  In the back seat were their two bulldogs, the newly christened Lucy and Carli, ages six and seven, riding to their new forever home with Nigel’s parents. It had taken Nigel months to find a dog to help rebuild his parents’ hearts, which were destroyed when he passed in late June 2015.  He interviewed hundreds of dogs before realizing he would never find a single dog to cure his parents.  Only a bulldog pair would do.   Finding a pair of Bulldogs ready to adopted together was like trying to find a chicken at the turkey farm.  Nigel spent days flying unseen through t

This week we reluctantly welcomed two friends, Rabbit and Presley, who arrived at the Bridge before their time.  Nothing is sadder than a young dog robbed of his mortal days. When we angels wake up, we choose the age we want to wear like humans decide what clothes they want to adorn.  I have 13 different years to pick from.  My favorite is seven, right in the middle, when I was full of sass and nothing hurt. Sometimes, if I am feeling vibrant, I choose puppy.  When I am wearing puppy, I run, jump and play.  Honestly, I can only wear puppy for no more than an hour.  It is quite an exhausting sartorial choice. When young dogs arrive, they have fewer years to choose from.  No dog I know has fewer ages to wear than my dear friend Ruger Ru. Ruger joined us after a very short time on Earth.  His mom loved him with all her heart, but he got sick, and she could not let him suffer any longer. He has been here four years living with his brother, Tanner Bub, the mayor of Rainbow Bridge

I love the bed.  I am the most bed loving dog in the world.  I would spend all day there if I could.  When daddy comes with the leash in the morning to hook my harness and take me outside I roll over and my back to make my removal as difficult as possible. The bed is soft and warm, and both my humans are in it.  They are so very warm and comforting to lay against.  When it’s cold out, there are all sorts of blankets and comforters to get between.   Occasionally, on very special days, when we are taken outside to do our business, we get back in bed.  In the winter we snuggle down but in the summer it’s play time. Pocket and I like to play together, but the opportunity is limited.  We prefer to play on something soft and our house, except for the front room, is hard floor.  The door to the front room is often closed so getting in there is a rare treat.  When we do we tear back and forth, and roll around together. But the bed is our special play spot.  We nip, bite, and

You are going to work? For eight hours? And you are leaving me alone?  How can this be?  

Two years ago, this very week, my dear friend, Raider joined me at the Rainbow Bridge.  His mom Gina and his dad were heartbroken. Raider set his mind on a single goal:  He needed to find another dog to help rebuild his parents’ heart. He soon found Presley.  Raider managed to bring them together, and then he rested. Two years later, under sudden, and tragic circumstances, Presley has joined Raider at the Bridge. It takes five minutes to fall in love with a dog.  It takes 50 years to stop mourning a dog’s passing.  It seems that, after falling in love in five minutes, and facing a lifetime of mourning, a parent should get more than two years with a pup. When I first arrived at the Bridge and was confronted with a dog’s passing, too tragic, and too soon, like Presley, I would fly up to the top of the tallest mountain to confront the Big Guy.  He always had a reason:  Dogs age given only so many heartbeats; when Romey passed too young he told me that every soul’s passing is

Since I arrived at Rainbow Bridge it has been my duty to welcome all pets who have crossed the River of Life and become angels to their new life a immortal souls. This week Cotton, a very pretty cat with a huge M on this head, who belonged to the parents of my good friends Angus Mac, Maggie and Stella Roe, arrived at the Bridge with a note in her paw. I took the letter.  I expected it to be a letter of introduction, or maybe she wanted me to sign her autograph.  I looked down to see the Big Guy’s handwriting.  Cotton had been appointed to greet all kitties who arrived at the Rainbow Bridge. “Hey Foley,” Paco said, slyly looking over my shoulder “is not that your job?” I felt my skin burning under my hair but I did not want to show that the letter had any affect on me.  I folded it back up and handed it to Cotton.  “Just a standard communication.  Cotton is going to help me in greeting our friends when they come here.  I have asked for help and Cotton here is the perfect choi

It is scorching outside.  It is even hot when it is dark which is worse because you can’t see it.  I don’t like the heat.   My paws sizzle when they hit the pavement.   We barely walk now because River has a compressed face and begins panting quickly.  My outside activity is limited.  I am concerned.  I might have gained an ounce or two, which is concerning.  If I weighed 160 pounds I would have gained four whole pounds! I have to look out the window to see what is happening in my gardens. The birds at our feeders don’t go to them now.  They order takeout by employing some nestless birds to take the food from our feeders and bring it to their nests.  If the servers do not get a tip, they do a somersault out of the tree.  Remember if you don’t tip your servers someone will flip you the bird. The squirrels don’t hunt for food either.  They set up a stand on the side of the road and sell their roasted nuts. River and I have switched roles with Daddy.  In the winter we don’t

Please look over this lineup Mam and see if you can identify the pug who peed on your shoes

It had been a quiet week here at the Rainbow Bridge (Thanks Big Guy!)  We rebuilt the wall and not dog has crossed over in our district.  Dogs in other districts are discussing following our lead.  The entire Bridge may be covered by a wall soon.  Until someone knocks it down.  (Thanks Big Guy!) These are some dark and depressing times.  What we need know is humor and fun.  This week I would like to honor some dogs who make our lives happier and more joyful.  To recognize those who take out mind off the worst of time. In the wonderful world of Blogville dogs have been competing in the Blogville Olympics.  There is basketball for those who can hold a ball or has a basket; there is TuneFul farting, there is boxing, there is synchronized napping, and so much more.  There have been days of fun and we are looking forward to days more. Then there are the merry pranksters from our own Tanner Brigade site.  Enzo is always ready with a funny sketch, a witty joke, or a tail of woe about

Boys and girls are different. When girls have their ovaries removed, they never care if they see them again.  But when boys arrive at the Rainbow Bridge they always inquire about their testicles.         Well, I have some good news for the boys. Recently our puppy friend Tommy had his testicles removed.  As soon as they were chopped off, they sprouted wings.  They flew out the doctor’s office and all the way to the Rainbow Bridge to await their owner.  Thankfully Tommy’s testicles cleared the wall.  There is nothing worse than hearing a pair of testicles splat against cement. When the testicles reach us, it is our duty to catch them, put them in a jar, and keep them safe for the eventual reunion.  But testicles like to have fun.  They dart and dive, rise and fall, to keep us from being able to catch them. Testicles yearn to be free. Tommy is a beagle, so his testicles were especially playful.  At some point, I could not find them. Then I say Brody with his mouth shut and a

I have become the happy face in the window. It has been a long time since there was a happy face in the window at my parents house.  When they lived in their condo, and their son was living in Florida, Foley was let roam the house freely.  But then the son moved back home, and my parents never trusted him with complicated duties, like closing the front door, so Foley was put on her blanket in the bedroom. When they moved to their new home here at the village of the pruned Foley was left in the bedroom when my parents went out, happily curled up on her red blanket. Pocket stayed in her crate, the same one she uses today. After I gained my parole my parents thought I would do more damage if I was put behind a closed bedroom door.  So I was given run of the entire house (honestly, with four rooms, two baths,and laundry room it is more of a jaunt than a run). While I gained the joy of freedom, my parents gained something of equal value.  They gained the face in the window. An

The Big Guy knocked down our wall again.   We don’t know if we have the strength to rebuild it. Odie came, and we fortified; Leo arrived, and we built it higher; Paco appeared, and we built a moat around the wall; Dirty Harry landed, and we fortified more. When Dot came, we realized that maybe walls aren’t always the answer. We thought the wall was working for Dot.  She was a senior dog who battled cancer.  And she kicked ass.  When we questioned if building the wall was worth it someone mentioned Dot, and we nodded.  It is working for Dot.  She is spending time with Mama Michelle.   Cancer is evil.  It sits back and patiently waits. Often, as it lurks, the doctors can get it and chase it away forever.  And sometimes they can’t. Dot fought very hard to keep cancer in check.  She loved her mom, maybe even more than her mom loved her.  That kind of love is hard to measure.  No one has invented something that can measure that much love.  If love were enough, we

Occasionally you may have heard me mention my minions.  After being appointed a Judge at Rainbow Bridge, I was given several minions to do the grunt work that neither my angel staff or I have the time to perform. Recently the First Lady gave a speech where she described her house as being “built by slaves.”  As a civilized society we know having indentured servants do their owner’s bidding, for no pay, and not being allowed to stop working, is abhorrent. But what of my minions.  Am I as guilty as slave owners? I think it is important to understand how minions are created.  Anyone who mistreats people breaks the law and hurts others, become minions to human angels.  Anyone who abuses and mistreats dogs or other animals become minions to dog angels.   And that is how I got my minions.  On the mortal side, they treated animals heartlessly and cruelly and when they reach their immortal side they are left to the whims of us dog angels. I hope I am nice to my minions.  They are

Oh, let us rejoice in River Song being released from her crate, and being allowed to roam free, while my parents are out. Her only requirement is to be a good girl while my parents are gone.  Apparently not peeing or pooping on the floor, chewing furniture, or standing on tables equals being a good girl, as well as being the only qualifications you need to win the Republican Presidential Nomination. If my parents really knew what was happening in their absence River would be back in her crate with no chance of parole. I prefer to be safely in my crate, which contains my triangular kitty condo, where I can relax in peace when left alone.  With River on the loose, relaxation is elusive. When left alone River is not sitting by the door patiently waiting for my parents.  She is constantly watching Game of Thrones.  She watches the first episode, then starts another, gets confused, and watches the first one again.  I have seen that show 12 times.  It’s driving me crazy. When sh

Hey! You think you're better than me!  Well it's go time!