The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

OK Ma'am, take a look at the suspects and tell us if you recognize the one who ate your slipper

When a human sees you for this first time what do they say about you? Our answer:  "They are so tiny. They are so cute.  They are so loud."

Tomorrow is Memorial Day when humans remember those who paid the greatest price for their country, and other loved ones, including us pups.  We don’t have any parades or cookouts (well, we do, but it is our regular Monday cookout) because every day is Memorial Day here. On Friday I wrote about Paco.  His job is to teach dogs how to travel as ghosts from the Bridge to their parent's house and cause some mischief that will let their parents know that we are still there and that we love them.  Paco has had some students have limited success in the precious endeavor, but this week a new Angel was able to master the technique in days. Rose Lawson, a pretty black dog whose name closely resembles one of the silver screens’ most romantic characters, developed liver cancer, and sadly, on Thursday, she made her final trip to Rainbow Bridge to join other members of her pack, too many really, for one mom to lose. That is why Rose was so anxious to let her mom know that all the angels

It was a beautiful day at Rainbow Bridge.  I decided to get some sun.  I put on my shades and went outside.  I tripped over a sleeping dog on my stoop. Paco stirred. “Sorry, Foley did I trip you?” I assured him I was fine.  “Did you have any luck?” I asked.  Paco didn’t have to tell me where he had been.  He had flown into the sunset which sent him back to his poor mother’s side.  Her life has not been the same since Paco passed and he has been desperately trying to let her know he was still there   “No, my mom still can’t sense me.  I do everything I can think of.  I make the lights flicker.  I make it colder for no reason.  I knock things over.  But Mom doesn’t know it is me.  It is very frustrating.” I sat next to my friend.  “I know what your mom is going through,” I said.  “She misses you, and she hopes that with time she will miss you less but that hasn’t happened.” “I just don’t know what to do!” Paco sad sadly I gave him a kiss on the head.  “Paco, I have never m

Two weeks ago I was accused of a very serious, in fact, some would say felonious, act, the biting of my dear sister, Pocket's ear.  I want to state, in great surety, that not I, or anyone on my staff, bit my sister.  This is a made up excuse by Pocket to explain why she was not the first one to greet Mommy as the door.  They said I had no clear path to get to the door first.  No Griffon has ever got to the door first like I did. But I did.  And when I did I was greeted by the most mommies ever.  Period.   Pocket, who is totally unreasonable, kept this phony, made up story that I bit he,r alive.  She invited one of the birds at the feeder to “independently” investigate if I bit her.  I think having a bird involved divides the house, but Mommy allowed it.  I met with the bird on three different occasions, where the bird confirmed to me that it did not think I was the one who bit Pocket’s ear.  Satisfied with that answer I fired the bird. The next day I had some of my cat frien

It's true, it's all here, all of it. We have seen the promised land.

What word best describes you Pocket:  Tender River Song:  Persistent 

I was comfortably in bed yesterday morning when I heard a scratching at my door.  I growled to myself as I crawled out of bed, put on my robe, and answered the door.  On the other side was my longtime friend Beaux Jangles.  “Beaux,” I said surprised “what are you doing here?”  (After four years at Rainbow Bridge I should really stop asking this question.) “I don’t know,” a confused Beaux said.  “I went to bed last night at home, and I woke up here.” “Uh-oh,” I thought.  Beaux was born before me, and I preceded him to the Bridge, so that would make Beaux….I told him he should come into my cottage. He stayed in the doorway. “Why are you living in a cottage, and wearing a robe, and walking on your back two legs, and, oh mierda.” I put my paw on his shoulder and guided him into my house.  I sat him down on my couch where he momentarily curled up, then jumped off.  “I need to leave.  I have to get back to my mom.  I need to take care of her.” I had seen this too many times be

I have been spending a lot of time with my friends Gizmo and Tiny.  Gizmo arrived at Rainbow Bridge four years ago, shortly before I did, and Tiny joined Gizmo a short time ago.  Both passings broke their parents' hearts.  But they were required here because Gizmo and Tiny’s parents were about to need a lot of prayers. On April 3, Gizmo and Tiny’s dad collapsed and had to be rushed to the hospital.  Tiny frantically ran into my cottage panicked about what to do.  He was a new Angel and knew his prayers would help his dad.  Gizmo followed right behind him, and we calmed down Tiny, and we went to the big Bridge cathedral to pray for their dad. I stayed with them at the cathedral during the night.  Neither Gizmo or Tiny would leave, except for ghost visits for more than a month. Their dad, Brian, was admitted to the hospital.  He was told he was a complicated case.  His blood pressure rose and fell with each test.  Their mom, who had just lost Tiny, faced losing her h

My parents have tried for nearly ten years to curb my freedom to bark whenever I please.  They have sprayed me with water, tugged my leash, used several commands, snapped their fingers, nudged me, tried to distract me with food, and even pay me off.  I defeated them every time. Lately, they have carried an orange back scratcher and given me a scooch in the butt when I barked.  I turned around and barked at the stick.  I never got hit with the scratcher.  No matter how much I bark a human hitting a dog with a stick is never a good look. My parents were resigned to being the embarrassment of the neighborhood whose every walk was accompanied of five pounds of bark. Then, a few nights ago, during a walk, in the middle of a barking rant, Daddy tapped the stick figure on the ground, next to me.  It startled me, and I stopped barking.  Oh, darn!  Something worked.  I would have to beat the tapping scratcher.  I scanned the horizon and began to bark again.    Tap.  Tap.  Tap. “What

Director Comey's Dog

What is your walking equipment?  Collar, harness, no pull harness, slip leash, leash, flexi-leash or something else? We use a harness and a leash.  Mom has thought about a slip leash but isn't sure.  She doesn't want uss to get loose.  

I have new angels to meet, new angels to greet, and new angels to help get acclimated to their surroundings without their beloved family.  I did a good job of meeting and greeting but if I am going to help the new angels to get acclimated I am going to have to get to know them better.  Starting this week I have instructed my minions to try and befriend their parents so I get to know the angels back stories before I share them with you. The first new angel I met was Rupert fwhose mom is Barbara Needham from Gringley on the Hill in the United Kingdom which sounds like a magical place.  We always refer to angels in the present tense because they are not gone, they are just somewhere else, across the River of Life, which neither the mortal or immortals can cross, except immortals who borrow the bodies of birds or pretty flying insects, which is why mortal humans should be nice to flying creatures.  I swore Rupert in as an angel.  Scooby have him his designer wings and Ladybug gave him

I was sitting in a comfy chair in my cottage.  I had the windows open and a beautiful spring breeze was blowing through them.   I was still wearing my judge’s robe having only spent an hour in the office.  Thankfully the Angel business was slow.  Suddenly a huge wind blew through my modest home  My wings began to flutter and then I was lifted up, and out the window, high in the air, up and up the mountains until I was sucked into a cave on top of the highest peak I was plopped down on the floor in the Big Guy’s office.  He was sitting high on his throne.  He had a long white beard and was wearing a white robe.  He was bent over his desk reading a list and checking it with a quill pen.  “How have things been Foley?” he asked. “Fine sir,” I answered. “Are you providing comfort to the humans who have lost their pups?” “Yes sir,” I said. “Because it seems to me you have had a lot of downtime.  I see you sleeping in your cottage.  I think you need more humans to help.  I have s

Last week mommy went to get a manicure.  Pocket and I sat by the porch storm door to wait for her and to bark at everything that went by.  Daddy stayed in the living room where he was close enough to check on us but far enough away not to be driven crazy by our yapping. When the zombies walked by we barked, and sometimes we climbed on one another to get a better view, and, if one of our claws were too sharp, there might be some minor nipping involved and the one bitten will react like they were having their eyebrows set on fire. But on this day there was no crying.  Mommy came home, we danced for her, she greeted us and we went inside. Mommy, who can see any imperfection in her little palace from a mile away, saw small dots of something on the inside of the door.  She checked it and determined it was blood.  She then inspected the house and found some on the floor, on the storm door window, on the living room floor, and the closet door. Seeing blood splatter around the hous

I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so hep me God! I ate your dinner

What food do you eat and how often are you fed? We eat Blue Buffalo Basics.  It is the only food Pocket can digest.  We have Sizzlers bacon treats for our treats and some privately made healthy treats.  If we are lucky we get corn flakes, turkey and chicken

Humans like to say they rescue dogs but from what I have experienced dogs are the ones who save their humans.  This is Capone’s story.  He took the saving humans idea to a whole new level.   Angela Fullmer and her husband Isaac found the miniature pinscher, chihuahua, whippet mix abandoned on the highway 18 months ago.  They brought him home and they and their children fell in love with the dog the would name Capone.  They had no idea how Capone would repay their kindness.   Capone was part of a large family with nine human siblings, the youngest one three months, to play with.  On the night Capone repaid the great kindness shown to him his father, a trucker, was on a haul and his mom, who had recently graduated from Mercy College with a degree in health care management, had fed, and put to bed, their nine children, before falling to sleep in her own bed. At 1:30 AM Capone began to bark.  His mom told him to be quiet.     She did not want him to wake the baby.  But Capone pers

I arrived at Rainbow Bridge almost four years ago after succumbing to lung cancer.  Every day I meet a new dog who is at Rainbow Bridge for the same reason.  Pet cancer is the number one reason that pup and kitties come to Rainbow Bridge.  If you are over ten years old chances that you will be diagnosed with cancer.  Doctors and researchers are working very hard to bring these numbers down. Starting May 6, 2017 Petco, for three weeks, is teaming with Blue Buffalo to raise money for several organizations including The Morris Animal Foundation ( http://www.morrisanimalfoundation.org/ ) The National Canine Cancer Foundation ( http://wearethecure.org/ )  the Riedel and Cody Fund ( https://riedelcody.org/ ), the Kate Koogler Canine Cancer fund ( http://www.katefund.org/ ) and many more who are working to lessen the amount of dog who come to Rainbow Bridge because of cancer.  You can also click this link ( http://petcancerawareness.org/what-we-do/where-the-money-goes-map/ ) to see if

It is now May in our sleepy village.  Winter is quiet here.  There are no children, only adults who have traveled far on life’s road and have settled for a simpler, slower life.  Foley called them the prune people:  Their diets consisting of food to keep the plumbing moving and their skin shriveled by age.  I call them the zombies, as they walk by each day, aimlessly, searching for what I do not know.   Winter muffles all sound, except for the occasional snow blower; but spring brings the frogs singing their love songs, the constant sound of lawn mowers humming somewhere in the distance, and finally the sound of a Pocket dog roaming her territory again. Yes, I am out, I am loud, and I am loving it. I bark at everything.  Zombies walking (they may give me attention), Zombies walking dogs (I half want them to play with me, and half want them out of my neighborhood), Zombies working in their yards, dogs tied up in their yard (to say hi to the dogs and to berate their parents for

If you scooch over we can make room for one more

How many time a day do you need to go out to use the peeing and pooing area? Delete Comment River Song:  Morning, second morning, afternoon, before supper, after supper, before snack, before bed (7) Pocket:  Morning, second morning, after breakfast, before noon, early afternoon, mid afternoon, late afternoon, before supper, after supper, before treat, after treat, before bed one, before bed two, random time during the day  (14)