The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

She wants to go back to where ever she came from

A dog is put on Earth for specific reasons:  To love, support and protect their humans.  It is a natural instinct for most of us.  But occasionally dogs, like humans, develop disorders that prevent them from performing their duties. Fern is one such dog.  She came into her mom’s life shortly after her brother PJ went to the Bridge.  At first Fern was the perfect successor to PJ.  But, as she grew older, she began to show signs of aggression.   Her mom tried to find answers for Fern’s behavior but couldn’t.  She had no choice but to send Fern to the Bridge at just three years of age. I have never seen a dog sadder to cross the River of Life than Fern.  Many dogs are upset about leaving their family, but Fern was sure that she had failed her family, and her duties as a dog. She was met by her brother PJ.  He hugged her and assured her that her mom loved her no matter what.  But Fern kept saying “I failed, I failed.  I didn’t love my humans like I should have.” PJ wrapped her i

It has long been a tradition at Rainbow Bridge that the new Angels cook Thanksgiving dinner for the rest of us.  But this year that tradition ended.  While the mortal world lost a great friend we gained a loyal brother and the Internet’s best known dog chef in Leo. A month ago Leo visited me in my cottage and said he would be cooking the entire dinner.  I had eaten his food at many a gathering before:  his stunning chicken; his perfectly braised ribs; his juicy burgers; the tasty pizza.  My mouth watered in expectation.  I told him I agreed and was looking forward to tasting his creations, but I still needed to find assignments for the new angels. The other angels had been training for months to cook.  Leo picked the two best, Sarah Jane and Gracie Mae, to help him  He wanted Bella too but she was committed to visiting some humans who were having trouble adjusting to life at the Bridge.  Once a therapy dog, always a therapy dog. Leo needed the finest ingredients for his

We started the first week of April.  It seems like so long ago.  The air was warming.  Everything smelled new.  Baby birds chirped from the trees.  River and I had been planning our gardens for months.  We were snuggled together in our pink buggy.  The layout of the gardens was at our paws. The winter debris that had cluttered our gardens were removed.  The grass was raked.  The smell of Earth being reborn filled our buggy.  The soil in the garden was uncovered.  A sweet scent, of flowers blooming under the soil drifted past us. This was our routine every Monday.  River and I got in our buggy and our parents worked in the yard. The grass was mowed and River and I breathed in that freshly mowed lawn scent, storing it in the far recesses of our nostrils for when we felt lonely and needed to smell the welcoming Earth.     Each week we met with mommy about which flowers would look perfect and where to put them.  She bought them on Saturday and she planted them on Monday.  The

Hey!  What's the hold up  There is an SUV taking up two lanes holding everything up.  Probably owned by some neutered male dog over compensating  

We all began together eight years ago.  We met in a place called Doggyspace, which isn’t there anymore.  We were young.  Our lives were ahead of us with unlimited possibilities.  And we had online friends to share our stories with, and learn.     I came to Rainbow Bridge more than three years ago.  Many of those original Doggyspace friends were already here.  Since I arrived here more friends have joined me.  I know in the next five to ten years all the originals will be here.  But our parents and friends will still have dogs bringing them joy and making the world continue to spin.     This week our wonderful original friend Sandy joined us.  Sandy’s call to the Bridge came slowly over a long period, and then suddenly, and unexpectedly.  On Thursday Sandy, despite his many physical problems, went to the groomers and looked beautiful.       Later that day he could not walk or stand.  Sandy had fought for so long to stay with his mom.  Despite having four other siblings Sandy kn

It has long been rumored, here at Rainbow Bridge, that there is a golden chalice filled with the finest kibble located in a cave high in the mountains.   It was further rumored that somewhere along the banks of the River a treasure map could be located.           One morning my friend Quincy was digging by some rocks when he found a bottle.  He brought it to me to inspect.  I got the bottle open, and Quincy got his paw inside and pulled out the parchment inside.  He unrolled it.  “Quincy, I think you have found the map to the golden kibble.”  We exchanged a high paw.  We then put together a team to find the treasure.   We recruited Reba the chocolate lab for her excellent digging skills and Tommy Tunes for his great intelligence.  We followed the map, climbing into the mountains.  Tommy led the expedition.  He would often stop, check the map, smell the ground, and then lead us in another direction.  We then came to the cave entrance. It was small.  Neither Reba or Tommy wou

The mean man who lives in our village, a couple of streets over from our house, is rampaging against dogs in the neighborhood again, so we are boycotting walking past his house, even though it was my favorite bowel movement spot.  Apparently, the man did not appreciate the high ratings he got on Yelp for BM’s, and he called the police. He did not call the police on us. We usually walk at night, and his big Mr. Magoo glasses barely keep his vision working in daylight, never mind at night.  What caused the phone call was that the mean man’s rocks were wet from pee. For most men, this is a sign that they have to start sitting down when they pee but the mean man thought is necessary to call the police. Most policemen would try to calmly settle trivial problems like this but a small city renegade cop, who thinks he is on the Shield  showed up and sided with Mr. Wet Rocks. He told Mr. Wet Rocks to take pictures of any dog who is pooping or peeing on his property, and Officer U

Wrinkled friends are the best

When I was a mortal dog, I was known as one of the most prominent dog attorneys in the country.   It was only the promise of a judgeship that made me give up my practice and move to Rainbow Bridge. When I heard of the case of a dog named Jeb I wished I was back in the trenches trying to defend the innocent.  A Michigan judge had ordered that Jeb be euthanized because he was found standing over the lifeless body of a neighbor’s Pomeranian named Vlad.  The state law demands that any dog who causes serious injury to a dog or person will be destroyed. Jeb was not a usual suspect.  He was a service animal belonging to Kenneth Job, an 80-year-old man, who Jeb helped walk, and stand if he fell.  Jeb was a very sweet and tender dog who never bothered another animal, including the rabbit he lived with. Kenneth and his daughter decided to defend Jeb vigorously.  To do so, they turned to the type of evidence that is used to prove the guilt or innocence of humans:  DNA. Poo

Tanner Bub and I have been best friends for years. We left DS together; we started the Tanner Brigade together, and we work at Rainbow Bridge to make the lives of other dogs better.         There is one problem.  My mom is a lily-livered, bleeding-heart, liberal, egghead communist and Tanner’s mom is a gun toting, redneck, facist.  Pundits insist that there is no way that my mom and Tanner’s mom can be friends. We are a divided country, and nothing can bridge the gap between the two sides.         But we know that is not true.  If Americans want to know what unites their country above everything else, they should look to the dogs.         First, everyone should own a dog, you can own a cat if you want to, I respect members of the LGBC community (Loving Greedy Bitchy Cats).  But cats can’t unite a broken country like dogs.         I watched the Cubs championship parade on TV and saw millions of joyous people singing “Go Cubs Go” as one great, unwashed congregation, and I wond

The message was left on a seldom used rock down the street from my house.  It was peed confidential.  Any smell would dissipate seconds after I whiffed it.  I couldn’t even trust River.  I blocked her with my little body and sniffed the pee mail.  A cold feeling passed through me.  The entire world, both dogs, and humans were in danger.  There was only one soul who could save us. When I got home, I sent him a message on the bark Internet so no human could read it.  Early the next morning I heard the new wrecker park in front of my house.  I slipped out of bed, opened the door and let top dog Secret Agent Enzo, also known by his code name the Golden Nugget into my house. I brought her to my small kitty condo.  Enzo stopped outside of it.  He didn’t think he could fit, but I assured him that it was bigger on the inside than the outside.  We were soon inside. I lowered the bowl of silence so no one could hear us even though the secret message was so important it could not be bark

Are you sure this outfit will help me pick up girls?

I greatly admire dogs who fight to stay with their parents.  Some dogs battle diseases for years before finally heeding the Bridge’s call.  Jazzy was one such dog. Jazzy was diagnosed with cancer four years ago.  She battled that disease and with every ounce of her being. She was determined not to let some silly tumors keep her from her parents.  Then came the diagnosis of lymphoma.  Again she used every bit of fight she had in her little body to wrestle the disease of a draw. Then came a heart condition.   Jazzy was like a character is a Final Destination movie. She was summoned to the immortal life many times and stubbornly refused. Jazzy is another brave dog who said no. Two days before Halloween Jazzy started vomiting and had diarrhea.   She could not walk properly and seemed to be in pain.  Her parents took her to the vets.  She had a fever of 103, and the vet detected that she had a lot of pain in her back.  “Not to worry,” Jazzy said.  “I have vomited and had diarrhea b

I am sure that your parents are saying that they can’t wait for the election to be over.  My friends, don’t believe it.  Humans love elections.  They even have them in the immortal world.  And I have found myself plum stuck in the middle of a scandal. This year Grover Cleveland is running against William Jennings Bryan for the office of Immortal President.  The office has no power, but humans still go to great lengths to get elected.  I became a Cleveland supporter because I like the Indians and I am easily confused.  I am a judge, and my endorsement carries more weight than my body.  On Friday Cleveland visited me at my cottage to sure up my support. I made him a cup of tea, and we talked.  I could tell something was bothering him, so I inquired.  He told me that he had been accused of sharing state secrets in personal correspondences.  He assured me that there was no truth to these rumors.  He said he had more campaign appearances and slipped out while I was in the kitchen