Thursday, September 21, 2017

River Song: Common Night Walker

Now that summer is ending my sister, and I have gone back to being common nightwalkers.   Our exercise time is after supper.  With the cooler weather approaching Mother Nature has to save on energy to pay the heating bill, so it gets dark earlier.  

My parents enjoy walking us in the dark.  We don’t have any interruptions.  If it is sunlight, there are white walkers slowly roaming the site in packs.  They get Pocket, and I worked up by moving at a slow, steady pace and not paying attention to us.  Nothing causes unrest for my sister, and I like being ignored.  We start barking to get their attention but most of the time the deaf bastards just keep walking.

Occasionally a white walker, usually a woman, will pay attention to us, but for some reason, we both get hit with a case of the stupids.  We bark, run to them, backup, bang heads, stagger around, nip at one another, and eventually chase them off with nothing but a mental note in their head to donate to the United Lap Dog College Fund.

Last week, when we were on our last walk of the evening, close to midnight, just a quick jaunt down the street so I can sniff and Pocket can take her late night poop, we came to a storm drain.  My sister and I looked down the opening while Daddy, who was walking us solo, pulled on our leashes trying to dislodge us from our pursuit when we both began to bark angrily into the drain and pull on our leash.

All the white walkers go to bed at 8:00 to make sure they see the sunrise and were promised another day, so Daddy hates when we bark late at night, but our attention to the storm drain particularly bothered him as he wondered what had our attention, and then he yelled “Pennywise!” pulled us away from the drain and began dragging us back to the house, leaving a trail of late night Pocket poop in the middle of the road.  He got us inside, double locked the door, and shut out the lights.

What did we see down the drain?  We will never say.

But if you ever want to scare the poop out of your parents, and you walk at night, bark down a storm drain.

Man does that freak them out.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Monday Question

What is your stance on fetch? Do you play or decline?
Pocket: I love to play fetch with my red ball. I chase it, and I usually bring it back, but sometimes I just stand over it and bark until Daddy fetches it and throws it again.
River Song: I chase but I don't bring it back. I just play with it where it landed

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Rocket is our September 17 2017 Pup of the Week

Harvey has been a time for hero rescuers, and a few of the rescuers who saved people had been saved themselves,  not by Joel Osteen, but by people willing to get their hands and paws dirty.  
This is the story of a hero dog, with black and white coloring and cute freckles on his snout,  named Rocket.  He is a border collie mix who got extra doses of border collie energy.  That power betrayed him, and the dog who loved to run and play found himself in a cage at a Sacramento shelter with his name on a kill list and his ticket to the Bridge punched.
Luckily someone recognized that Rocket’s obsessive behavior could make him an excellent search and rescue dog.  
Rocket was removed from death row and trained in search and rescue by the Search Dog Foundation based in Southern California who looks for dogs in kill shelters to train for rescue operations.  He happily showed off all he had learned when he was tested to become a member of the team.  He promptly failed.
But Rocket must have had his own angels looking after him because a volunteer still believed in Rocket and gave him special lessons.  Given another second chance Rocket passed the test and joined the team.  
Rocket was given a human partner, firefighter Mike Stornetta from Windsor, California.  Rocket got his first taste at saving people when there was a plane crash in Northern California in 2016, two years after he joined the squad.  He proved himself to be a valuable member of the team.  
Denise Sander, the communication officer for the Search Dog Foundation says to dogs like Rocket it isn’t work, but a big game of find the human, and Rocket excels at it.  
That is why he along with 11 other rescued dogs, have been in Texas working to save people affected by Hurricane Harvey.  Two of them were Jester, who was, as a puppy surrendered because he regularly jumped the fence, and is now a FEMA-certified search dog, and Java, a plott hound mix.
Now these dogs, rescued from death row, are saving humans from death.
We have all, in a way, been rescued from an uncertain existence by our families, and we have all, in our way, rescued them.
But some of us have much more dramatic stories.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Giving Thanks for the Internet

When the Internet first began no one knew what to do with it.  You had to use your phone line, people’s importance was verified by a mechanical voice telling them they had mail, they gathered in chat rooms to type at strangers, and, of course, there was porn.
We are still in the early stages of the Internet.  Someday people will look back on us using the ‘net as we look back on people using cars for the first time, cranking them up, rolling around slowly in open carriages with skinny tires.  It will all seem so very comic.
This week I think we might have found out what this mysterious tool is to be used for.  Certainly giving us pups a way to bark at one another is noble, and bringing friends together is important, but it seems for each positive use for this marvelous apparatus the evil people have used it to spread their wicked beliefs.   
Sometimes it takes a catastrophe to see clearly.   The Internet only has one clear purpose, and that is to let us communicate with the ones we loved when the world had been blown upside down.  Twenty years ago what happened in Houston, and again a few days later in Florida, would have left friends and family members deeply concerned about loved ones who took the storm’s full brunt and were now unreachable.
Today we could stay in touch with our friends throughout the storm:  We knew the Laambies left New Port Richey just before the storm hit and made it safely to Orlando; we got a message from the Triple T’s Mom that they were safe in Yalaha even though a small tornado touched down in their yard; we were able to keep in contact with Freddy Girl and her dad who escaped with roof damage and the fence that keeps Freddy from escaping, Angel Lady Bug and her neighbor Hobo Hudson in Ruskin came through the storm with no damage.  When Hurricane Andrew hit all these people would have been out of touch, and we would have been consumed with worry (or not, because we would never have met any of these wonderful people.)
So, people may use the Internet for whatever foolish reasons they want.  It can make us happy, or sad, or infuriated, during the calm, but during a storm, it becomes nothing but a force for good.
And, as always, porn.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Covering My Butt by Pocket Dog

Parents learn a lot of lessons from us, mostly about loyalty and love.  I know they think that it is reciprocated when they “train” us but we aren’t learning, we just agree to let them think they are in charge.  But there is something important I learned from my parents.  How to cover my ass.
Humans use this term a lot but they rarely literally do it.  I know they put at least one, mostly two, and sometimes more, layers of clothing between their ass and the breeze, but that isn’t what is meant by these words.  It means to make sure no one can blame you for anything.
While I certainly don’t want anyone to blame me “covering my ass” means making sure my ass is covered.  I want my butt pressed up against something.  When I sleep, I push my behind against one of my parents.  When I sit with one of them, I make sure my butt is resting against the back or the side of a chair.  When my parents leave I go in the crate where my kitty condo is and I back in.  Nothing is getting to my butt.
There is a reason for my butt vigilance.  Even though we have become domesticated we dogs are always ready to take it to the streets if things go down, so we keep our instincts honed.
Part of our street instincts is to keep something behind our butts.  Whatever happens on the outside, in front of us, we can handle with our sharp teeth.  But we don’t have eyes in the back our head, we only have butts, so that is why I am only comfortable when my ass is pressed against something so no one can get to me from behind,
When I get nervous, which is often, because nervous is my default setting, I climb up to the highest point in the room, which is usually Daddy’s head, and sit on it, so I can survey the area and still have my butt protected.  Anyone who wants to get to my head has to go through Daddy’s thick skull.
Come to think of it, perhaps a man with an agitated dog covering his ass came up with the term “covering my ass” for human use.
So that is something else we have taught our parents.  Covering their asses.
I wonder if politicians have lots of dogs.
They seem to cover their asses better than anyone.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Monday Question

We have just had two terrible storms. What is the worst storm you have encountered:
Pocket: When I was three, and we lived in the condo, we got 11 inches of rain in two days and our basement flooded. The rain didn't bother me but all the work that went into drying out and restoring the basement bothered me a great deal.
River: My first winter with my family we had a storm and got two feet of snow. The wind slammed against the house and the snow pounded the against the window. When I got up the snow was more than a foot above my head and I had nowhere to pee.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Comforting Therapy Dogs are our September 10, 2017 Pups of the week

With Irma threatening the lives of our friends, with ceaseless threats of war occurring around the world, with new concerns continually being discovered, and the over riding emotion in the world being worry, it is time for the planet to get its own therapy dog.

It is no wonder that people realize that we dogs have a greater purpose than to hunt and retrieve balls.  We are here to help humans, and we are just beginning to reach our potential.

An increasing amount of people, businesses are recruiting therapy dogs to help overly stressed out humans deal with the insanity of their lives.

There are few places more stressful than the airport.  At LAX hurried passengers, and harried passengers can lower their heart rates and their blood pressure by meeting the emissaries of the Pets Unstressing Passengers (or PUP) program, who are walking through the airport with their human companions to meet, greet, and calm passengers as they wait to board their plane.   Parents traveling with nervous children find the program especially comforting for their young travelers.  The program is expanding to other airports as we prove that a good rub behind the ears is good for both the scratcher and the scratchee.

But it is not just at airports where our unique skills are being put to use.  College students, both freshman, and returning students were greeted by therapy dogs to calm their nerves and help transition to college lives.  The dogs will return to help the students before midterms and finals.  We dogs are helping build the future leaders of the country one decreased heartbeat at a time.

Humans who find themselves in highly stressful jobs, such as 911 operators, are getting visits from therapy dogs to help them do their jobs calmly and more efficiently.  The next time your human needs to call 9-11, they should be comforted by the fact that the person answering the phone is listening intently and calmly handling the situation thanks to a delightful dog.

There are dozens of other places where we work to keep humans calm and focused:  Nursing homes, hospitals, libraries, and schools are just some places where dogs are making new friends and bringing them to a peaceful state.  Of course, dogs never meet strangers; they meet friends they have not encountered yet.

With the horrible storms that are ruining properties and lives ravishing the country, I am sure we dogs will be called into new situations to help, and we will proudly do it because all we need to do is serve man.

We have a new motto:  “Wherever there is a man who is ready to cry, wherever a senior needs a reason not to die, wherever someone is struggling to get through the day, look for us dogs, we won’t be far away.

Friday, September 8, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Flying in the Hurricane with 12, Chappy and Fuzzy

The deluge of weather related prayers have continued.  We angels have barely had a moment’s rest.  We wish we could do more.

I had just settled under the covers after a 14-hour grind of prayer delivery when there was the sound of a giant paw banging on my door.  I crawled out of bed and opened the door.  12, my massive angel friend and his brothers Chappy and Fuzzy Bacon stood in my doorway.

“Do you know what my mom did?” 12 asked.  “She got someone to go to Tommy Tunes’ Dad’s house to board up his windows for him before Irma hits.  She is his guardian angel.  We have to help my mom aid our friends.”

I invited them inside and made them cocoa.  “I understand you boys want to help people, we all do.  I have even met with Mother Nature.  She is one fierce witch.  But there is nothing we can do.”

12 cleared his throat.  “If Mommy can get Tommy’s Dad’s windows boarded up from four time zones away then there must be something we can do.”

“I wish I could think of something buddies but I can’t.”

“What if,” Chappy began, “like a team an angel superheroes we fly into the hurricane?”

I spit out my cocoa.  “Fly into a hurricane?  We would be knocked to Jupiter.”

“I don’t think so,” 12 said.  “I have the size and strength to impede the storm, Chappy has the charm to lessen its anger, Fuzzy has the ferocity to combat it, and a hurricane is nothing but a bunch of swirling air.  No one sucks the air out of a room like you Foley.”  Everyone else’s superpowers sounded so much more impressive.

“Our jobs are to be angels,” Chappy contributed.  “If that means flying into the hurricane in a feat of futility then that is what we do.”

“It is futile Chappy!” I said.  “But, we are angels, and the job of an angel is often futile, so I say let’ fly.”

We took off that night because if you are going to do something stupid you need to do it right away before you think it through.   We approached the storm from the west.  12 took the lead.  We flew into the wind, and the four of us bounced off of it.  We regrouped.  Chappy suggested we form a spear with 12 at the tip.  We flew into the storm again, and this time we penetrated deep inside of it.  We were violently thrashed back and forth.  12 put his shoulder to it and tried to get it to move, Chappy tried to reason with it, Fuzzy barked at it, and I tried to suck up as much wind as I could.  

We found ourselves in the eye of the storm.  Chappy told us to follow him, and he found a weak spot, and we flew out of the hurricane.  We landed at my house where we all curled up and went to sleep.

we awoke, we hurried to see what fury the storm had wrought.  I don’t know if we accomplished anything except giving ourselves some bruises, but even if we were able to decrease the wind speed by one mile an hour, or push it just a mile out to sea, it was worth it.

Every little bit helps when the rain falls, the wind blows hard, and the tide surges.  

I know, like 12, Fuzzy and Chappy’s mom everyone will do what they can to help.  We are all one another’s angels.  

Thursday, September 7, 2017

River and Mom: A Late Night Conversation

Everyone knows that dogs and human can’t communicate.  Except for a singular moment when humans are on the edge of sleeping and wakefulness.  What happens in those moments are swept away like the remnants of a dream

It takes a long time to learn when your parents reach that moment.  It lasts only a few seconds.  If you start too soon, the human only hears barking, and you get shushed. Start too late, and they are asleep.

Sunday night I was able to speak to my Mom during that perfect moment.

“Mommy,” I whispered, hoping she would hear me.

“Yes, River?”  I was in!

“Is tomorrow special?”

“It’s Labor Day.”

“What’s Labor Day?”

“It’s a holiday.  Humans don’t have to work.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Work in the garden.”

“But, it’s Labor Day.  You aren’t supposed to work.”

“I am retired, and Daddy works weekends, so Monday is our garden day.  We will rest Tuesday.”

“You’re a rebel Mommy,” I said.

She smiled.  “Is there anything else tomorrow?” I asked.

“It is Pocket’s birthday.”

“Is she we going to get special food and gifts?”

“No.  Your sister can’t eat anything special without getting sick, and except for her ball she doesn’t play with toys.”

“We can still do special food and gifts,” I offered.  “And I will eat them and play with them.”

“We just did that for your birthday.”

“I know, and it was awesome.  Let’s do it again.”

“Now that wouldn’t be fair to Pocket.”
I looked at my clueless sister sleeping next to Daddy.  “So what is she going to get?”

“Lots of snuggle time, lap time, scratches, extra lap time, and love.”
“At my expense?” I asked stunned.


“Oh man, birthday are like farts.  When they are yours, they are OK but when they are someone else’s they suck.”

Mommy smiled again and then she slipped off to sleep to visit Foley.

The next day Pocket got extra attention, and I walked around all day like I smelled a fart.

Monday, September 4, 2017

Monday Queston

How easy have you been to train?

Pocket:  Train?  What does that mean?  Many have tried, all have failed.  If I weighed ten more pounds I would be a terror instead of a little ball of cuteness.

River Song:  I trained pretty easily.  I can sit, and give paw, and come.  I am not good at being quiet but who wants a perfect dog?

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Jazzmin, Toulouse and Otis are our September 3, 2017 Pups of the Week

I have had too many new angels to greet this week.  We spirits have been very busy with prayers for Texas, and I would have appreciated if the Big Guy didn’t bring any of my friends to the Bridge, but he did.  I am told he works in mysterious ways, but often it seems like he is not functioning at all.  Maybe more angels were needed.  But I don’t know why one of them had to be an old friend, another a new friend, and the third family.
The old friend was sweet Jazzmin.  I have known her for years, going back to when we dogs built the Internet so we could communicate in a manner other than barks and pee mail.  I had no idea that Jazzmin was expected at the Bridge.  I had not heard a bark or sniffed a pee that said she was ill.  But one day this week Jazzmin went to sleep in the mortal world and woke up immortal.
Usually, when this occurs the new angel awakens confused, but Jazzmin knew exactly where she was.  She always put her mom, Debi Wallace, first.  When Jazzmin knew her heartbeats were dwindling, she arranged to pass in her sleep, so her mom did not have to go through the pain of deciding to help her, or to have the added expense.  While Jazzmin’s crossing over has left Debi brokenhearted, she knows her special girl left the mortal world, in the same manner, she lived in it:  On her terms and with her mom in her heart.
Jazzmin is now with her brother Bernie.  They are running in the fields and mountains.   They are watching over Debi in the River of Life.  They are visiting their mom in her dreams.  And they are flying into the sun to see her as small flying creatures or ghosts, to play mischief with their mom, to move things and make stuff go bump in the night, so Debi will know her babies were there.
The new friend is Toulouse.  He is the senior member of at All in the Family pack. Toulouse was a little dog but a big fighter.  Three years ago he was diagnosed with diabetes and needed daily shots.   Fourteen months ago the doctors told his parents he had cancer.  Eight months ago he started losing his vision.  But Toulouse fought through it all to stay with his parents.
Toulouse is a small dog with a big name.  His family nicknamed him Mr. T.  If you saw him playing with the larger members of his pack, you will know the name is very fitting.  Mr. T. was the boss of the pack, a tough, scrappy, little fighter who passed to the immortal side of the River in his Dad’s arms while being rushed to the vet.  He accumulated many more heartbeats than the doctors thought possible after his cancer surgery, and every one of those heartbeats was filled with love.
Toulouse’s parents have had a difficult time coping without having him by their side.  His other pack members are working overtime to comfort their parents, and Mr. T is trying to send them a sign that he is still with them, but sometimes it is hard for a spirit to break through the grief.  Toulouse will keep trying and, just like he beat the odds by living a long life I know he will beat the odds and let his parents know they will be together again someday.
The last dog to arrive was my Dad’s cousin Jan’s dog Otis.  Long time readers might remember Dad’s Aunt Bev, who convinced Mommy that she would love having a small dog, which led to Mommy getting Blake, and then finding me.  Without Cousin Jan’s mom, Aunt Bev all that has happened since would never have occurred.
On my first full day with my parents, they took me to see Aunt Bev and Uncle Bob.  Cousin Jan was there with her husband Michael and their little son Mike who liked me a lot.  I knew I was in a good family right away.  I don’t know if Cousin Jan had Otis then, or got him a short time later because Otis and I are the same age, but he was always family to me.
Cousin Jan need not worry about Otis being alone, Aunt Bev and Uncle Bob were there to greet Otis, and he is playing with all the dogs who came before him.  If she ever needs to get a message to him, she should let me know.
Because that is the kind of thing family does.  

Friday, September 1, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Prayers for Texas

Twelve years ago this week Hurricane Katrina caused massive flooding in New Orleans.  Thousands of people were stranded in the rising water.  The government was ill prepared for the disaster.  Now the country is faced with another epic disaster, the flooding in Houston caused by Hurricane Harvey.  Thankfully, the government has learned many lessons in emergency management during that time, not only to rescue humans but to rescue beloved pets too.

In New Orleans, as the city was being evacuated, residents were told that pets could not go.  Many people, acting the same way my readers would refused to leave their pets behind, and they perished in the flood.  It was the sacrifice that these people made that caused rescuers to realize that to many people pets are family, and they needed to be included in the evacuation.

When rescuers found Joe Garcia, chest deep in water at his north Houston home, he went back in his house and carried out his German Shepherd Heidi, carefully keeping Heidi’s head above water as he carried her to the boat.  When the water began to rush in under Belinda Penn’s front door, she put her dogs Winston and Baxter in their crates and retreated to the second floor.  The next morning they were rescued and brought to Mrs. Penn’s mother’s apartment on higher ground.

Unfortunately, dogs still got left behind if there was no room in the boat.  Human life must come before our lives.  We are always willing to give up our lives for our humans.  During Katrina, dogs were not allowed in shelters, but in Houston, they have been welcomed.  

Sadly, not every pet owner care for their pets the way our parents do.  Many dogs were left abandoned.  They were rescued by neighbors or by other kinds hearted humans in boats.  They are in shelters across the country.  They are scared, and alone, and don’t know what happened to their family but they are alive, and they have a second chance, which many of the Katrina dogs never had.

We have also had many dogs arrive here because of the terrible storm:  Frank, an English bulldog, caught in a current and swept away, Freddy, a black and white pitbull who ran into the flooded street, and many other dogs, pets and cattle were lost
At times of tragedy, the Internet becomes a place of love and caring.  One example is  this Facebook Groupwhere people who are willing to risk their lives to rescue dogs reach out to people who are missing dogs and other animals or know where those in need are.

The truth is, in the mortal world, we can’t count on governments to save us.  We need one another, both human and animals.  We have seen the worst nature can do, and the best man can do, in Houston. 

They didn’t do it to win; they didn’t do it for fame or fortune, they did it for the noblest reason.  Because it was right and it was kind.

There is still hope for you humans yet.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

A Burst of Freedom by Pocket

When our parents are away from us, it seems like every minute lasts an hour.  We don’t know if they will return.  It is terribly frightening.  I don’t want my parents to know that worry because I Iove them.  But last Sunday I did, inadvertently, given them a taste of that fear.
I have a different harness since the previous one injured my trachea.  When you get a new harness all those annoying tags that we are forced to wear have to be transferred from one harness to the other.  Earlier that day my Mom did just that using one of those little wire ring things.
My Dad did not notice the tags.  When we left for our walk Daddy clipped my leash to the small ring with the tags.  We were on our usual walk when we passed my friend the Corgi’s house.  The Corgi came to the window to bark at us.  I went ahead, pulling the leash tight, and barked back at him.
Suddenly the little ring holding my tags gave way.  My tags flew in the air.  I kept walking, now unleashed.  Where we live has very few cars, and there were none in sight.  I crossed the street where Corgi was barking in the window.  I went up the house, which was ten feet from the road, barked at Corgi, walked to the side lawn, peed, and got picked up by Daddy.
It was not long at all.
But to my parents this is what happened:  My tags exploded, and the leash came undone.  I crossed a street (thank God there were no cars coming). They yelled at me to come to them, but I ignored them.  (They also forgot the word come and just started screaming random words like “banana” and “rankle rotary engine.”)  I would not listen and ran away from them.
Daddy was also holding River’s leash while he was trying to run after me and River was having none of it.  She sat down like a ten-pound boulder and Daddy was trying to drag her and catch me.  He still pulled River an Olympic distance before Mommy, who was frozen watching me, stepped forward and took River’ leash.  This entire horrible process took about three seconds, but to my parents, it seemed 20 minutes.
Daddy then walked onto the stranger’s property where I was barking.  He went to pick me up, but I darted away from him.  That is when I took a few steps to my right to pee but Daddy saw me running down the street and disappearing into the woods while he posted my picture on Facebook and on every lamppost in town.
I finished peeing and waited for Daddy to pick me up and put the leash on me to continue our walk.  My, did they make a fuss over me.  I was only loose for a few seconds.  My parents reacted like we dogs react when they come home.  I felt very loved.
I hoped they learned their lesson and never leave the house again.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Monday, August 28, 2017

Monday Question

What is your most common sleep position?  Stretched out?  On your back?  Curled in a ball?  On your side?  On your tummy?  
If you sleep with your parents or another dog do you snuggle with them?  Do you sleep with your butt on them on your head?
Pocket:  I sleep curled up in a ball.  I like to sleep in the crook on one of my parents' knees.  I like to have my butt against them when I sleep.
River:  I like to sprawl out when I sleep.  I like my whole body against my humans.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

August 27, 2017 Pup of the Week: Beast, Lux and Bruno: The Hero Dogs

All dogs are heroes to their parents. This week I want to celebrate three dogs who saved their humans because they recognized it is our duty to put their lives before ours.
The first dog is a nine-year-old American Staffordshire Terrier named Beast.
Beast’s mom, Sandy Ruggerio, was outside with her two other dogs at her North Port Florida home when she heard the terrifying sound of a rattlesnake about to bite.
Beast jumped on the snake, and after a brief struggle, he killed it. He was injured, and he is at the vet’s where he is responding to treatment for low blood cell count, but the doctor is confident that the amount will rise and soon Beast will back in family’s yard once again protecting them.

We find our second hero dog on the lovely beaches of Salerno Italy. A father was playing on the shore with his two young daughters. A rogue wave pulled the girls out to sea. The father swam out and found one of the girls, but he could not see the second. 
Fortunately, Lux, an accredited lifeguard dog was on patrol. He saw the missing girl, Caterina, and he jumped in the water. Lux reached Caterina and dragged her back to shore where she was revived. She spent the rest of the vacation happily with her family. When she had arrived at the beach, she had been afraid of dogs. Lux not only gave her life back to her but also instilled in her a love of dogs.
Heroic dogs don’t just save children. Bruno, a 15-month-old Bernese Mountain Dog, was at home with his mom Jayne and his dad Andy in Sunderland Australia. Jayne’s 82-year-old father, Terry, was staying with them because Jayne’s mother was in the hospital after a fall.
Jayne and Andy thought that Terry was happily napping while he snored loudly from the spare bedroom. Bruno recognized that it was not peaceful snoring and continually barked. Jayne went to check on Bruno when she realized her father had slipped into a diabetic coma. Jayne called the paramedics, and Terry was brought to the hospital where he recovered.
It is good to write about hero dogs whose actions did not lead them to the Bridge, so here is to Beast, Lux, and Bruno and also to Sandy, Caterina, and Terry.
Once again they have proven that dog and men are an unbeatable team.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: The Truth About the Eclipse

On Monday humans from around the world gathered to watch the total eclipse of the sun when the moon, the Earth, and the Sun were perfectly aligned briefly turning the world dark.
The Earth, Sun, and moon perfectly aligned to block out the light? Please! This is why I love mankind. They believe anything.
When I was a four-year-old dog, I made my first million kibbles by putting a fire breathing dragon on display. I charged ten kibbles a person. I told the people it was very dangerous to look directly at the dragon. If they did, they would go blind. The people willingly bought and put on glasses, which had a fire breathing dragon painted on the inside lens. People left raving about the dragon. Gullible humans.
This Total Eclipse scheme was created by scientists who knew that humans could not accept the truth: Total Eclipse Day is when all the angels at Rainbow Bridge fly into the sun to go back to their loved ones. A number of angels flying into the sun is so  immense it blocks the sun.
This great scientific cover up has ruined Total Eclipse Day. We angels are back on Earth for a short time, running around, enjoying our yard, and seeing our parents, but they don’t see us because they are all wearing stupid glasses and staring up at the sun. What a crock!
But without realizing it, our parents do feel the emotional response of our return. They feel wonder; they are overcome with tears, they believe it is one of the most awesome experiences of their lives. They think it is from seeing the moon move in front of the sun, which is totally created by the glasses It is because, for a short two minutes, the angels walk the Earth again (and not in a Game of Thrones white walker, or Walking Dead type of way, we dead get bad publicity on television) and we leave our parents with a sense of euphoria.
You can believe science, or you can have faith that what I am saying is true.
Science is a class you need to pass high school.
Faith keeps you going in the world.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

River Song Secret Jumper

It has been three weeks since I impressed everyone at the vet’s office.  I don’t think they have recovered from seeing me.
My parents were hoping that my jumper would have returned by now.  The vet said I had a pinched nerve in my back, and she gave me medication but I ate all the yummy pills, and I am still not jumping.
(OK, listen: Don’t tell my parents but I have done some jumping.  When they go out Mommy puts her nightshirt on her recliner.  She lays it out nice and flat.  When they are gone, I jump in the recliner and roll around on the nightshirt bunching it into a ball.  Don’t tell my parents.  I don't think they have noticed.)
I guess I am going to have to rely on my parents to continue to pick me up.  When they have the bottom of the recliner up, I sit on the floor and look up at them with very sad eyes that scream:  “Pick me up, I am so small and helpless.”  Then they lift me and put me in the chair.
(When they aren’t home I fly onto that recliner.  I love having the whole thing to myself.)
I used to be able to jump up by the window and get my whole body as high as the bottom of the window.  If the sill was bigger, I could land on it.  Those days are gone.
(When my Pocket made her emergency trip to the window I jumped on the kitchen table to wait for them to come home.  As soon as their car appeared in the driveway, I jumped down.  That was a close one.  Thank God it is impossible to see inside a lit room from outside at night.)
I used to jump on the couch with my treat bone in my mouth.  Then I would drop it and let the treats scatter.  But I can’t do that any longer because of my bad back.
(On Sunday I jumped up on the couch with my treat bone, but my parents were engrossed with flying dragons and did not see a flying Griffon.)
I am taking some glucosamine in the morning.  They are my special treats, and they are yummy.  But they aren’t working.  
(Some mornings my mom takes my favorite chew toy and tossed it on the recliner and run after it and jump on the chair to get it but I jump down with lightning speed.  I don’t think they saw it.)
I hope my parents understand that I may never be able to jump again.  Poor me I am dependent on their kindness to get on the furniture.
(Because I really like being picked up).

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Beat This Caption

That bitch has ten more minutes to show up for our picnic date then  I am taking my bones and going home

Monday, August 21, 2017

Monday Question

On Wednesday night I injured my trachea, was coughing, and spitting up foam.  My parents thought I had injured my trachea and would be fine over time, but the more I coughed the more worried they became.  They decided to take me to the emergency vet knowing it would cost a lot of money.  In the car, I stopped coughing but they still took me.  So here is the question:  Would your parents have taken you to the vet or waited to see if you got better and at what point do your parents decide to take you to the emergency vet?

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Our August 20, 2017 Pup of the Week is for the Birds

There has to be a first time for everything.  Today, for the first time, I am honoring two birds with the honor Pup of the Week (although I did once give honorable mention to Leo’s family’s bird Tiki, and I believe, another family bird from the Gustavson pack.)
This week’s honorees do not have names.  They were found by the father of Angels Rusty, Scooby, and Odie and their mortal brothers Max and Baron.  He was on a construction site.  He was taking down a soffit when he disturbed a nest holding three tiny newborn birds.  The boy’s dad knew that their terrific mom would take these birds in and help them grow.  She had performed this miracle several years before and she was confident she could do it again.
An important lesson:  If you are going to take a baby from the wild and raise it until it is ready to be free don’t name it.  When you give it a name it becomes part of the family and you don’t want to send part of your family away.  While the Boys' Mom loved the birds she had to keep herself from getting too attached.  Her job was to get them ready for the wild, no matter what her heart said.
If I was to name one of them I would have called it Hope.  Because, like those little birds, hope is the things with feathers.  When they fell out of the nest they were without Hope, which is being without feathers.  The Boys' Mom would give them both hope and feathers.
The Boys' Mom has lots of small animals and she knows everything there is about raising all creatures.  But raising birdies is harder than other animals.  They want to eat all the time, and every ten minutes they are crying for food.  The Boys' Mom fed them with a syringe to make sure they got all the food they needed.  Being a Birdie Mama is hard.
As the days passed the birdies kept eating, their feathers kept growing, and hope that they birdies would be strong enough to fly away sprouted.
One of the most important lessons a bird has to learn before it can go out to the wild is how to feed itself.  The Boys' Mom put seed in their cage.  Slowly one of the birds began to peck at the food but the other was reluctant.  These birds were siblings so the Boys’ Mom did not want to separate them.  They could not be released until they were both eating.
The second thing they needed to learn was how to fly.   To speed up the process Rusty, Odie, Scooby and I popped into their dreams and took them on flying lessons.  Scooby was a great inspiration.  When a bird sees a Great Dane fly he knows he can soon.
This week the Boys’ Mom knew the birds were ready to be released but she wanted to wait for a period of sunny days so they did not get hampered by the rain.
Yesterday their moment to return to the wild arrived.  Here is the exclusive video.
Birds are the only beings allowed to fly back and forth to the Bridge.  They flew straight to Rusty, Odie and Scooby and told them that they loved their parents, the one who saved them, and the one who raised them, and they are very thankful.  We named them Hope and Feathers.
They want their mommy to know to keep an eye open for them in the trees.  If she looks up in the sky she will certainly see hope and feathers flying above her.

Friday, August 18, 2017

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: A Poopiter Review

Late last fall, on December 2 to be exact, a request came across my desk from one Geordie D. Dog to join my Ning social network “The Tanner Brigade.”  It is my responsibility to make sure only the top dogs are members of the Brigade.   This Geordie did seem like a good chap, so I stamped him as approved and he quickly moved onto the site.
I was thrilled to see that Geordie quickly made himself at home and improved our little family by inviting us all to his Big Back Yard where we could gather and play.  I visit there several times a day for fun chat, games, and great companionship.
Some of my favorite dogs have parents who are artists, and I was excited to see that Geordie had a mom was quite good with the pencil and coloring.  She posted several funny cartoons that always brought a smile to my face.  I wanted to share these sketches with the world, but I am the defendant in several pawright infringement suits and could not afford another, so the cartoons were limited to our members.
But now everyone can get joy from Geordie’s mom’s beautiful artwork.  She has just published her second book which can be purchased here:  Poopiter
The story begins when Geordie gets a new little brother named Toby.  Anyone who has had a new sibling knows what a terrible bother they are it took Geordie a while to become accustomed to the little bother, which is all documented with great humor and understanding.
From there the book chronicles the escapades of these two cairn terriers and their often exasperated but always loving Mom.  Despite Toby’s tooting, his exuberance, and Geordie’s frustrations every drawing, and every word is written with love.
The duo's mom, L Bowman, has the gift that many of our parents have.  They understand us.  They are not vets or dog whisperers; they are dog listeners.  They can hear what we are saying through our tails and wags.  They know what is in our heart.  And they can express it.
These are some dark and troubled times and the cure for that is kindness and smiles.  
Here is my prescription to cure you:  Buy a copy of Poopiter and let the smiles come to your faces.  

Thursday, August 17, 2017

My Exciting Night at the Emergency Vet by Pocket Dog

Boy, did I have an exciting adventure last night.
Everything was calm.  I was sitting with my Daddy watching television.  Daddy said it was time to take us outside.  I jumped down and when I landed my throat hit my harness, and I began to cough and spit up.  My parents fussed over me, and within ten minutes I stopped.
Before bedtime, Daddy brushed my four teeth, and that set me off coughing and spitting up again.  My parents put me to bed hoping that I would stop but I didn’t.  I kept spitting up on the sheets.  Nothing could stop my coughing.  My parents decided to take me to the emergency vet.
I coughed while they were getting dressed.  I coughed when they put their shoes on.  I coughed when the brought me out to the car.  I got in the car, looked around, said “wow, I have never been in a car before,” and I stopped coughing.
It was cool to be in a car at night.  And we drove very fast.  We got to the vet’s, and my parents explained what happened.  Meanwhile, I am in Daddy’s arm looking at the vet tech as quiet as can be trying to convey to her that I had no idea what these crazy people we were talking about.
I was taken away from my nervous parents, who at this time were much more in need of a doctor’s care than I was, while they did a quick exam.  The doctor called my parents into a little room and said that they thought that I had injured my trachea which caused me to cough, but they wanted to take x-rays to be sure.
My parents wanted answers, and they agreed.  The vet laid me down on a table and took three pictures of me.  They then told my parents that they could see slight damage to the trachea on the x-rays, but it will improve, but also be a chronic problem for the rest of my life.
Foley had a collapsing trachea too, so my parents have lived with a dog with the condition.  My attacks are louder and scarier, but I tend to be louder and scarier than Foley anyway.
I want to thank Pokey’s Mom Laura Lunn for getting the word out about my condition and asking for prayers on Facebook, to Reese’s Dad Pedro for keeping my nervous parents busy on Facebook Messenger and for, as always, showing great support, and for the Triple T’s Mom Linda for asking for prayers for me on TB.
I am resting today.  I have had a few attacks this morning which will continue while my trachea heals.  My parents are supposed to keep me calm.  Good luck with that.  I wish I could keep them calm.
Thank you for all the good thoughts and prayers.
Outside of the coughing and spitting up it was quite the night.