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Showing posts from September, 2016

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Defending the Shamed

Before I became a judge, while I was on the mortal side of the River of Life, I was known as the best dog attorney in seven counties.  My instinct to protect innocent dogs accused of crimes will be never be abated. This is why I find Dog Shaming websites abhorrent.  Parents act as prosecutor, judge, and jury:  They find their dogs guilty and publicly shame them.   I am here do defend them. Here is my first client: Apparently, there was poop on the bed.  With no DNA testing, it is impossible to determine who pooped.  Of course, the Mom said the dog did it.  She would not want to admit she pooped on the bed.  The proof is in the note.  “Then I tucked it in.”  How does a dog tuck in poop?  Dogs don’t make beds.  Dogs unmake beds.  Also, the dog is “Not Sorry.”  We dogs are always sorry even if we did nothing wrong, except if we are falsely accused.  Finally, the dog has a treat bone.  What human gives their dog a treat bone after pooping on the bed.  Obviously, we must find this

Tanner Brigade Options by Pocket Dog

DEAR MEMBERS OF BLOGVILLE:  I MANAGE A SITE FOR DOGS CALLED THE TANNER BRIGADE.  BECAUSE OF PROBLEMS WITH THE NETWORK THAT HOSTS THE SITE WE ARE LOOKING FOR A NEW HOMES.  IN THE BELOW BLOG I LIST BECOMING AN INDEPENDENT BLOGGER AS AN OPTION.  IF YOU COULD PLEASE, IN THE COMMENT SECTION, LEAVE A MESSAGE ABOUT WHAT YOU DO OR DON'T LIKE ABOUT BLOGVILLE IT WILL BE GREAT APPRECIATED.  THANK YOU. Oh boy!  When Foley left me in charge of  the Tanner Brigade she said it ran itself.  But now the only place it is running itself is into the ground.   Plus, I received word last month, that starting in July 2017, the price is going to double.  I didn’t say anything.  I wanted to do this year’s fund raising, which went very well, and then worry about next year when it comes.  But how do I ask twice as much for a site that doesn’t run.  Oh boy!  I am biting my paws down to the nub. And the company that owned Ning, Mode, collapsed and was bought out by another company.  Hobo and Enzo inve

Mournful Wednesday

Mournful Wednesday. This is a picture of Pocket with a Willow Tree treasure keepsake box sent to me from my very good friend Vicki Tankersley. Lea Blankenship contacted me a short time ago to tell me that Blazer's Mom Vicki had passed away. She was found in her home with the love of her life her recently adopted poodle Rusty. Vicki had many health issues in the last ten years. She was kind, compassionate, supportive and incredibly generous. She leaves behind two estranged siblings. We were her family. She is reunited with her Blazer at Rainbow Bridge. She will be missed

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Starbucks spelled my name wrong on my cup

Pup of the Week: Lexi the Schnauzer

I realize that many of my friends begin reading this blog, and, when they realize they do not know the pup being honored, they stop reading.   Do not stop reading. Because not only did many of you not know  Lexi, the Schnauze r, I did not know her either.  I wish I did.  I would have been so much better off if I had.  And so would you. First, Lexi was a therapy dog:  She took care of patients at nursing homes, physical rehab centers, and her favorite, the children’s hospital where she brought the little munchkins the most valuable gift:  Smiles. Second Lexi was an actress.  She played Toto in several productions of the Wizard of Oz.  She was a real star. And lastly, Lexi was a church dog.  She was the official dog of her church, and that was very cool, but I am saving the reason why that is so cool for the end of the blog.  As a blogger, Lexi would understand why I am saving it until the end. Lexi is one of the many independent bloggers who makes up the community known a

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Give Us The Treat!

Once again I have been studying the humans who study the dogs. No humans are more interesting than the ones who study us, and, except for weathermen and sports radio hosts, no one is wrong more than scientists who study dogs. In an Emory University study of 13 dogs, researchers found that, when given a choice of being  praised by their owners  or receiving food, most of the dogs either preferred the praise or appreciated both equally. Please, don’t get me wrong, we love the love.  There is nothing we crave more than our parent’s love.  But we want the damn treat.  We can get love anytime.  We can get love on the street if we are desperate.  But treats are rare gifts.  So give us the damn treat. Think of it like this:  Someday the apocalypse will come.  You people will run out of food and have to hide inside from the crazy freaks ruling the streets.  We dogs will be able to slip in and out.  We will catch a large rabbit and bring it back to our house where you are starving.  We

River Song has a plan to keep the squirrels out

I love my birds.  We have dozens of them living in our trees.  When I come outside, they sing to me.  It helps ease the tension and is conducive to helping me do my business. We have several feeders scattered around the yard to reward the birds for their beautiful singing and warm greetings.  My favorite feeder is shaped like a lantern.  It is also the biggest feeder and the bird’s main source of food. Saturday morning we found the feeder on the ground.  It was quickly put back on a tree branch.  We blamed a fat bird, who, having eaten more than his share, knocked the feeder off the branch when he launched towards his nest. On Monday we found something much worse. Not only had the feeder fallen to the ground, but the plastic holding the seed shattered.  The bird’s favorite eatery was broken, and none of my horses, nor none of my men, could put the feeder back together again. Later that day I saw the culprit.  A large squirrel.  Since we have houses next to us, and behin

Wordless Wednesday

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I am this much taller than you.

Pup of the Week: Nellie

I have written about dogs who have left their homes for Rainbow Bridge, and I have written about dogs who, with the help of the Bridge Angels, have found new homes.  This week I am writing about a dog who has a temporary home but will need a new one soon. We start when she had no home and no name. She appeared three weeks ago at the home of our dear friends Sandy, Maggie, Nikki, and Bear.  She took to Sandy’s parents like a tick to a deer.  She saw friendly humans and did not want to let them out of her sight.  She is a small German Shepherd who looks like she had given birth to pups.  She had no tags and was not microchipped. Sandy’s parents named her Nellie because a dog has to have a name.  They would have liked to bring her inside, but that would have thrown off the delicate pack balance that took years to establish.  Nellie was given a comfortable spot on the porch with a blankie.  She did not look the wild thunderstorms that roll through Kentucky, but she was content kno

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Helping Freddy and Tommy Save the Beagles

My good friend Tommy Tunes burst into my home with a newspaper in his mouth.  I thought he was being a good boy, bringing me my morning reading material.   He dropped the paper on the floor, opened it, and put his paw on an article. I jumped down to next to him and saw the story that had infuriated him.  Six female beagle puppies were given to the University of Missouri.  Scientists then purposefully gave them painful eye injuries.  A special type of acid was then applied to the  eyes to see if they would heal.  The acid did not work, and the beagles still had injured eyes.   Having no further use for the dogs, the University put them to death.  Tommy and I went looking for them.   We found them at our friends Saffron and Sage’s house.  Their mom Jackie is one of the many parents here who take in dogs who never had homes.  Saffron said the beagles were still very scared and confused about why humans would treat them that way. Tommy and I went to see them.  Jackie had given t

Pocket's Half Time Speech

All right team.  Gather around.  I think we played a good first half.  We are only down ten points and I am sure with hard work we can turn this game around.  Cinnamon has brought some rats from Australia.  They have swum over to our opponent’s locker room and are listening to their plans.  No, Chelsea, it isn’t good sportsmanship, but we have a lot of kibble on this game and our opposing the coaches are known for tricky.  Shiloh says a big win is in the stars. I think we have played well defensively, but we need to be aware of penalties.  Finley:  You are doing a fantastic job of tackling but every time you tackle you eat the ball and the refs are calling a penalty. Hannah Banana you are our leading offensive player.  You are running right through their yard.  But I need to stop leaving the huddle to sell things in the concession stands.  We have volunteers who can do that.  We need you on the field.   Now, players, we have to go at it hard every down. We can’t worry about be

Wordless Wednesday

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Don't worry.  Mom is using the vacuum but it is scared to come in here

Pup of the Week: The 9/11 Rescue Dogs

We gathered this morning under a bright blue sky and a radiant sun.  We lined the path that leads from Rainbow Bridge, through the woods, into the valley, and deep into the mountains. We were all quiet, with our heads bowed.  We could hear a drum playing slowly, a fife playing lowly. They marched past us, together again for the first time, all reunited here at Rainbow Bridge for the 9/11 Rescue Dogs Memorial Walk. Marching in front was Bretagne.  He was the last 9/11 rescue dog to pass over Rainbow Bridge.  Now he led the parade. The attacks of September 11 happened 15 years ago.  That is a dog’s life.  I have a few friends that old.  Petey is 18.  Pokey is 15.  But most dogs who lived through that horrible day are here, and all those who worked on the pile of rubble are all here too. There were over 350 dogs who worked at Ground Zero and the Pentagon.  They were search and rescue dogs, police dogs, therapy and comfort dogs, from the United States, Canada, Puerto Rico and

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Welcoming AJ

Mommy’s brother has a cat.  I guess that makes us cousins.  I never talked about it much.  When you grew up in my neck of land being related to a cat isn’t something talked about in pleasant company. The cat is named AJ.  The truth is I never cared for AJ.  And he never cared for me.  When his parents went to my house, he would be left alone.  When my parents went to his house, I would be left alone.  Neither one of us liked being left alone. My mom was afraid if she brought me to meet AJ I would bark obnoxiously and chase the cat until he squeezed himself into a high spot where he could not be unsqueezed.  That does sound like something I would do.  Also, in my lone meeting with a cat, I got bipped on the nose by a sharp paw and wasn’t allowed to retaliate.  Some cat, somewhere, had it coming. Thursday I found out that AJ got sick and was coming to the Bridge.  I felt bad for him and for his parents, who are both very nice, even if they are occasional parent nappers.

River Song: Trained Porn Sniffing Dog

 While Mommy is making breakfast in the morning, I educate myself.  I get on the table, turn on her I pad, and search for dog news.         Recently I came across a fascinating article.  Dogs are trained to sniff computers in search of the unique smells hard drives emit when they are extra hard.  Or, in other words, when they contain porn.         I thought:  “Now here is a job right up my alley.”  During my wild upbringing in Florida, I became an unwed mother.  I made several mistakes, which has made me the lollipop I am today.                   Somewhere on the Internet is my sex tape.  I don’t think anyone has found it yet.  One day, when I was outside doing my business, my neighbor was sitting on his patio, searching his laptop.  I heard a familiar pant.  I broke free of my harness and ran to my neighbor.  On his computer was a video of two dogs I did not know having sex.  Nothing strange there.  I don’t know why he looked so guilty.         When I read about porn sniffi

Wordless Wednesday

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HA! HA!  I'm a German Shepard and you're not

Pup of the Week: Saviors of the two and four legged variety

When I was curled up on my mom’s lap while she watched TV and managed my online computer profiles, I barely paid attention to what was happening on that stupid old picture box.  But there was one movie that caught my eye.   It was about a primitive tribe in Africa.  A member of the tribe, Xi, found a Coke bottle which brought envy and greed to his village.  The movie was called The Gods Must Be Crazy. I think there are people in the mortal world, in Italy, on the United State’s east coast, in Lousiana, and in Oklahoma, who would agree with Xi:  The Gods Must Be Crazy.  Earthquakes, tropical storms, floods:  The Gods have been testing people with ceaseless natural disasters. The Gods Must Be Crazy, but the Angels are definitely worried. Our families and friends are in the path of the storms and floods, are being tossed and turned by these quakes.  We wish there were something we could do to stop it. I don’t ask if the Gods are crazy.  I know they are.  They think their evil l