Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Save the Whales!

Oh, how the humans judge us, we with our noses up one another’s butts.  They deemed it such words as “gross” and “disgusting.”  And if we happened to partake of a warm stool now and then we would be told how bad we were and kisses were withheld for an inhumane amount of time.

But now the world needs butt sniffers.  And guess who they are turning to?  That is correct, us, those they so freely mocked beforehand.  

We have a man named Sam Wasser to thank for recognizing what lesser humans thought were vices are, in fact, virtues.

Wasser is the director of the Center for Conservation Biology at the University of Washington.  He came to the realization that there is a lot that can be learned from poop on the ocean floor.  And when you need poop detectives who are you going to call?  That’s right:  K-9.

Here are some facts about us dogs and our sniffers:  Our sense of smell is 10,000 to 100,000 more powerful than man’s, so don’t tell us you weren’t the one who dealt it, everyone of you have your own distinct natural gas smell.  we can smell poop from a mile away, and we really like smelling poop.

Since 1997 scientists have used us to find the poop left by moose, tigers, wolves, spotted owls, salamanders, and even crickets.  (Why crickets?  Let’s just say Jiminy owes someone some money, and that bug is a nervous pooper.)

And now we are sniffing out whale poop.  Did you know that right whale poop is bright orange and smells terrible and that orca poops smell like salmon?  Of course, you didn’t.  Who would walk around with facts like that in their head?  But now you do, and you will never get that fact of our your mind.

While humans only hold up signs and chant our sniffers are actually saving the whales.  We help the researchers find the poop.  They study it to find out why whales moms are losing their calves at birth, why whales are not getting enough food, and what effect pollutants have on their diets.  Through our olfactory skills, we may save the whale population.  A wise soul once said if the whales die then the people die.  (That soul was me, and I just said it so someday, when the saying is famous, you can tell your grandchildren you were there the day Foley Monster said it.)

The next time you see a dog butt sniffing or sticking their nose it poop do not yell at him; he is just saving the world.

Overheated by Pocket Dog

River Song and I live very spoiled, privileged lives.  We are well aware that there are dogs forced to sleep outside in the heat, or don’t have a soft bed with humans.  We are lucky to have those things.  We realize how lucky we are when we lose one of them.

Please don’t think we were without a parent.  If that happened, I would become so concerned that I would begin to spin around until I launched myself into space.

But Monday night we lost something important.  We lost our air conditioning.  I was sitting with my Dad after a strenuous day of me overseeing his garden and lawn work.  Daddy is very sensitive.  He can tell when the temperature goes up a single degree and he sensed that our house was no longer at its perfect 72 degrees.

He picked me up.  Normally I am delighted to be picked up.  But I am sensitive too.  I can tell when a human’s emotional temperature was rising, and Daddy’s was about to shatter records.  In the spring of 2015, they had a new HVAC unit installed outside.  It worked without a problem for the summer, but in the winter the heat kept going out when it was very cold and windy.  Men came out and checked, adjusted several things, and the heat continued to go out when it was needed the most.  The next winter the same thing happened.  In March the plumbers said they fixed it by turning a discharge pipe towards the house.  Now it is summer, and the AC isn't working.  This wasn’t going to be good for anyone.

Daddy picked up that little thing he uses to talk into, and he yelled at someone about the unit never working right, and he wanted something done to stop these problems.  He was holding me which made me concerned.  I would be an accomplice to whatever he threatened

A little later the thing made that funny noise.   Daddy talked to someone else.  He had put me down and was calmer (making me look like the cause of his irrational behavior)   Someone would come out to check the AC in the morning.

Then our entire world was turned upside down.  The front door was opened, the porch windows were too, a big fan, standing upright, with a turning head, that reminded me of a Dalek, and whispered “exterminate” at a pitch only I could hear, was brought into the living room.  Then we sat in general hotness.  

River kept getting off the Mommy’s recliner and sitting on the floor, a sure sign that she was overheated.  With the doors and windows open all sorts of sites and sounds filtered into the house to keep us alert.  It wasn’t until well after sundown when the temperature fell into acceptable dog range.  

At bedtime, the Dalek was brought into the bedroom (great, where it could kill us in our sleep) and a tiny Dalek was put in the window.  It was still hot, but we were too exhausted to notice.

By morning the house had cooled off nicely.  The man came to fix the AC and discovered that the unit was not installed correctly, there was no filter,  and the coils had frozen up. They would have to wait for it to melt and come back the next day with filters, so the unit didn’t freeze again.  Daddy could have got upset again, but then something else arrived that morning.  Something that would throw out entire house into disarray.

But you will have to wait for River’s blog next week.

Because this is a CLIFFHANGER

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

This is the last damn time I am chasing this kid and catching him after he runs out the back gate.

Monday Question

Have you ever lived with a child or had one visit?

We have never lived with a child but they have visited.  We used to climb in bed with them and sit with them in chairs.  We loved having them over.  Now they are grown up and don't spend time at Grammy's anymore.  I miss them

Mr; Bailey is our June 25, 2017 Pup of the Week

Last week Dora was reunited with her brother Bilbo after spending three sad months without any family.  Their parents were broken hearted to lose Bilbo but knowing their two pups were together again, young and happy, eased their suffering.

This week Dora had another reunion, not with a family member, but with her beloved Blogville companion, Mr. Bailey, from the Idaho Pug Ranch.  

Bailey had squeezed every second of life from his mortal coil.  In recent months Bailey’s body had begun to break down.  His parents were forced to watch their lively little boy, who had romped through their property, easing himself onto his bed, searching for a comfortable position.

Bailey was born with joint problems and had been on supplements for most of his 14 ½ years.  But he never let those problems interfere with his life.

Bailey was the leader of his pack.  Whatever problems its members or his parents had, Bailey put those woes on his back and bore them for everyone.  Problem after problem, pound after pound, Bailey carried the weight without complaint, happy to know that is what a leader does.

But over time the weight did take its toll.  That, plus arthritis, fused Bailey’s spine.  There were no procedures that could be performed to give him relief. The vet hoped that some medication could improve the pain.  Bailey could not stand still for long; his back legs dragged after several steps; he easily lost his footing; laying down and standing back up were both very difficult, as was maintaining his balance when he did his business, an undignified problem for a proud dog, but one his parents’ helped him with so he was not soiled.

Bailey had done so much for his family that they repaid him when his back could no longer sustain him. His dad carried him upstairs to their bedroom each night where Bailey slept on an orthopedic bed that was situated above his mom’s pillow.  His dad would pick Bailey up and take him outside for his 5:00 AM pee.  His mom would wake up when Bailey needed to move and help him on his pad until he became comfortable.

When comfort became impossible, his parents knew it was time to send him to the Bridge.  As heartbreaking as that choice was, they were certain it was the only one they could make.  Soon Bailey was crossing the Bridge, climbing the stairs, seeing Dory sitting in the garden, and then getting bulldozed by a cute Pug.

It was his sister Greta, who was cruelly taken from her family at two years of age, almost three years ago.  Greta stood on Bailey’s chest and licked him repeatedly.  Luckily all of Bailey’s pain was gone, and he did not mind being kissed by his sister.  Dory then came running out to him, and Greta crawled off of Bailey.  Bailey and Dory stood on their back legs and began to dance.

It was another lovely Bridge reunion.  I hope the Pug’s Ranch parents feel better knowing that Greta and Bailey are together and Bailey and Dory are dancing together just as they had imagined.

The immortal world is a wonderful place.  Someday everyone will know that.  Until then I will try to keep being your  faithful correspondent.  

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Mollie's Sun Room

Everyone loves the sun.  It is warm, it makes things grow, it sparkles off of water, and it makes the leaves shine.  When I was mortal, and we lived in the condo, when Mommy could “do” stairs, we had a skylight above the stairway, and in the afternoon the sun would hit this one spot on the carpeted step.  That spot would become so warm.  Oh, how I loved to lay on that spot.

I have only found one such spot at Rainbow Bridge.  My friend Mollie, who came to the Bridge shortly before I did, after having her life tragically cut short by the terrible IMHF disease, had loved the sun during her mortal life.  Her parents built her a sun room that she could lie in and enjoy the warm rays.  She barely got to enjoy it before she departed for the immortal world.

Now she lives in a beautiful house that is totally made out of glass, and the sun is always shining.  Mollie has a two story house, and she has carpeted stairs.  I like to go to her house in the afternoon when the sun is the strongest, climb the carpeted steps, find the sunny spot, snuggle down, and dream that I am back in the condo with Pocket and  Mom.  

Sometimes Mollie comes and lies with me.  She is a very comfortable and sweet dog.  I do feel bad for her.  She did not get many years with her mom.  They adored one another.  Mollie went from being a healthy dog to being bound for the Bridge very quickly.  Before she, or her mom, could come to terms with what was happening, Mollie was gone.

She did find the perfect replacement, Sophie, who has done a marvelous job of rebuilding her parents’ shattered hearts after Mollie went to the Bridge.  Mollie visits Sophie’s dreams every night to make sure Sophie knows exactly what their Mom and Dad needs.  Sophie has never let Mollie down.

Mollie is a very special girl.  Dogs fly into the sun to get to the other side where they take ghostly forms to visit their parents for a long as their power holds out.  But Mollie stays inside the sun and becomes sunlight itself.  Whenever her parents are touched by warm sunshine, they should know that a little bit of the late and warmth is coming from Mollie herself.

I am going back to sleep in the sun, and if you fall asleep in the sunlight, today know there is a little bit of Mollie shining down on you.

Today is my Gotcha Day by River Song

Today is my Gotcha Day!  Four years ago today, after I left my Florida house where there were too many dogs, went on an airplane ride, which was too loud, and spent a night at our groomer’s house, who lived with my ex-boyfriend, I met my mom, and went to her home, where there were no dogs, only a Pocket.  From that moment forward I only wanted one thing:  Mom and food.  OK, I wanted two things, but food goes without saying.

When Foley interviewed me as her replacement in our pack, she told me that Mommy had recently retired which meant she would be home a lot.  My former mom thought I needed a smaller family.  Coming from a multiple dog home helped me in the interview.  Foley thought my experience with large packs would help me deal with Pocket’s schizophrenia.

Foley told me that Mommy needed a lot of help especially with rebuilding her heart, which was shattered when I departed.  She instructed me to get by her side and never leave.  I swore I was the dog to meet that challenge.

Oh boy, when I first met Mommy, at the groomer’s, and she reached for me, man, did I fall hard for her.  She looked at me, and her eyes said that we would be together forever.  I settled in her arms and decided I was never leaving.

And we were together for several days.  I was by her all the time, in the bathroom, when she was sleeping, when she was sitting.  I was not going to let Foley down.

Then one day Mommy gave me a kiss and said she had to go “out.”  Where was out?  What would she be doing there?  Would she be safe?  Who would take care of her?  Not Daddy.  He was barely holding himself together.

But they got in the car, and they left.  I fretted so much I pooped in my crate, and I have never stopped fretting when she goes out.

Many things have changed since that first day.  I am no longer crated.  They have not built a crate built that can hold me.  And I rarely fear poop when she is gone.  But I still fret.  Recently, thanks to a suggestion from Molly’s mom and Bishi’s mom Mommy has been leaving me with her night shirt so even when she is gone I still have her scent near me.  That has calmed me, but has not stopped my fretting.

This week Mommy and Daddy went out.  “We will only be gone for a short while,” she said.  She was right.  They were only gone for a half hour.

Back when I was brought to Massachusetts from Florida the plane hit turbulence, and I was bounced around.  It only lasted a short amount of time, but everyone was terrified.  That is what it is like when your mom is out of the house.  Your life hits turbulence, and no matter how long it is it is still terrifying and seems like it is forever.

All in all, it has been a wonderful four-year trip, but I hope the next four brings less turbulence and more smooth flying.

When Foley interviewed me as her replacement in our pack, she told me that Mommy had recently retired which meant she would be home a lot.  My former mom thought I needed a smaller family.  Coming from a multiple dog home helped me in the interview.  Foley thought my experience with large packs would help me deal with Pocket’s schizophrenia.

Foley told me that Mommy needed a lot of help especially with rebuilding her heart, which was shattered when I departed.  She instructed me to get by her side and never leave.  I swore I was the dog to meet that challenge.

Oh boy, when I first met Mommy, at the groomer’s, and she reached for me, man, did I fall hard for her.  She looked at me, and her eyes said that we would be together forever.  I settled in her arms and decided I was never leaving.

And we were together for several days.  I was by her all the time, in the bathroom, when she was sleeping, when she was sitting.  I was not going to let Foley down.

Then one day Mommy gave me a kiss and said she had to go “out.”  Where was out?  What would she be doing there?  Would she be safe?  Who would take care of her?  Not Daddy.  He was barely holding himself together.

But they got in the car, and they left.  I fretted so much I pooped in my crate, and I have never stopped fretting when she goes out.

Many things have changed since that first day.  I am no longer crated.  They have not built a crate built that can hold me.  And I rarely fear poop when she is gone.  But I still fret.  Recently, thanks to a suggestion from Molly’s mom and Bishi’s mom Mommy has been leaving me with her night shirt so even when she is gone I still have her scent near me.  That has calmed me, but has not stopped my fretting.

This week Mommy and Daddy went out.  “We will only be gone for a short while,” she said.  She was right.  They were only gone for a half hour.

Back when I was brought to Massachusetts from Florida the plane hit turbulence, and I was bounced around.  It only lasted a short amount of time, but everyone was terrified.  That is what it is like when your mom is out of the house.  Your life hits turbulence, and no matter how long it is it is still terrifying and seems like it is forever.

All in all, it has been a wonderful four-year trip, but I hope the next four brings less turbulence and more smooth flying.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

Damn:  I knew I should have picked what was behind door number two

Monday Question

Who is your favorite dog from movies our television?  Our answer is Snoopy.

Bilbo is our June 18, 2017 Pup of the Week

You know I am all for pup reunions at the Bridge.  Last week Nora joined Lady and Fitzchen after being apart for several years.  The week before Cocoa joined Ruger and Tanner after almost a decade apart.  While I love the reunions, I have also kept one paw in the mortal world, and I feel the pain of the dog parents who have sent their beloved paw child to the Bridge to join a sibling.

On Easter, my friend from Blogville, Dory, came to Rainbow Bridge.  Dory belonged to a pack of six, including her parents.  She was lonely with her family all on the mortal side.  She visited her brother Bilbo in his dreams and said, if he was feeling ill, or was struggling daily, and was ready, that she had a spot for him on the couch at her house, and she sure would be happy to see him.

Bilbo was born with birth defects, and the doctors told his parents that he would go to the Bridge at a young age.  But a funny thing happened to Bilbo.  He got so much love from his parents, and from Dory, and then from Jakey and Arty that it gave him the strength to overcome all those birth defects and to live ten years longer than any veterinarian thought he would, to the age of 15.  

Bilbo didn’t want anyone to know because he was getting the maximum amount of love he could get from his parents, and from Arty and Jakey, but not having love from Dory every day did make his life more of a struggle.

When Bilbo got Dory’s invitation to join her at the Bridge, he was reluctant.  As much as he was feeling each 15 years of his life he did not want to leave his parents. They had lost Dory two months ago, and he did not want to cause people any more pain.  But he was blessed with very understanding parents, who knew that his time had come.  They also knew that Dory needed a sibling at the Bridge, so she was no longer lonely, and Bilbo could keep her out of trouble.

Dory, a dog who loves flowers, was sitting in a garden nervously waiting for Bilbo to arrive.  When he did all his mortal struggles washed away as the clouds of tears drenched Rainbow Bridge.  Dory raced of out the flowers, knocked over her brother, and covered him with 1,000 kisses.

There were lots of things Bilbo needed to do before he could officially become an angel but that could wait.  We all stopped to watch the young Dory and Bilbo playing together.

I made a wish their parents could shut their eyes and see it.

I think it would surely help them.  Yes, I do.

Tails From Raiinbow Bridge: Poo Bowling with Max and Tupper

I was enjoying a bright, sunny day lying in the sun on the soft grass outside my cottage overlooking Rainbow Bridge.  I shut my eyes.  Hopefully, I could nap.  Then the sun went in.  I opened my eyes expecting to see clouds.  Instead, I saw my friends Tupper and Max looking down at me.

“Foley, wake up, we are going poo bowling!”

I squinted at them.  “Poo bowling?” I asked.

“Yes,” Max said excitedly.  “It is going to be awesome.”

My friends Max and Tupper had recently taken jobs at the Fun Factory.  This was the spot at Rainbow Bridge where all mortal dog toys were created.  Crack researchers, like Max and Tupper, invent and test toys.  When they find one they love they send angels into the dreams of human toy manufacturers, who wake up thinking the creation is all theirs, and, a few months later, our mortal brothers and sisters are enjoying those very toys.

But poo bowling?

“It is going to be bigger than the I-Phone,” Tupper said.  

“The best thing is that it is inexpensive,” Max chirped in excitedly.

“What exactly is poo bowling?”  I inquired.

“Walk with us and find out,” Tupper said, gently pulling me up by the ear.  “I will explain as we walk.”

We started off walking towards the flat, green, bowling area.  “You know all dogs love bowling,” Tupper said.  Did I?  “But we have never been able to perfect the ball return.  Dogs would have to nose the ball towards the pins, then, after the pins were knocked down, run and get their balls.  It was tiring.  I was thinking how do we eliminate that problem.  First I came up with using our balls, but ladies would be at a disadvantage, and humans love cutting our balls off, so that is when I thought about poop.  You poop it, you roll it, you knock the pins down, and when it is your turn again, you poop some more.”

“It is brilliant,” Max said.

I wasn’t so sure.

We arrived at the poo bowling fields.  All around were sets of ten pins, and dogs were rolling their poop towards them.  Tails were wagging everywhere.

We reached an open alley.  “Are you ready?” Max asked.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“You poop, and then you roll it,” Tupper said.

“Guys, we’re immortal, we don’t have to poop,” I said.

“We can still poop for fun,” Max replied.

During my four years at the Bridge I had never pooped, but when I tried, I did.  I then took it in my paw, and rolled it to the pins, knocking down seven.  I let out some more, rolled it again, and picked up the spare.

It was exhilarating.  I was not only playing; I was contributing part of myself to the game.  Of course, I had questions, mainly about how a dog could keep producing poop but Tupper assured me, correctly, that he had never known a dog who didn’t have a spare stool when he needed to make a spare.

So this Christmas, when your parents buy you a bowling set with no balls, know you have your old friends Max and Tupper to thank and get ready for some poo bowling.

Doctor My Ears by Pocket

A month ago River, allegedly, bit my ear.  (I have to say allegedly because River is litigious, but she did it.)  Since then, except for one late night scuffle when I laid on top of River in the dark, and she took exception, the situation between us has been peaceful.  But my ears have still suffered.

Two weeks ago I went to the groomer.  I have been going to the same groomer my entire life.  They treat us very well and do a terrific job maintaining our beauty.  I wish I could say we woke up looking this way but it is just not true.

The groomer was cutting my head when she snipped a little too close and cut the bottom of my ear.  It didn’t hurt nearly as much as when River did it, and I didn’t want the groomer to feel badly over a minor snip, so I didn’t flinch.

Unfortunately, I did bleed, and the poor lady saw blood on her table.  She stopped grooming and began inspecting. I just hoped this would not delay my departure time.  She found the cut, stopped the bleeding, and, unlike my sister, did not try to duck out of her responsibility.  She finished my grooming and sure did give me a lot of attention over a little cut.  

When my parents arrived, the groomer brought me out in her arms and told them that there had been an incident.  She said there was a cut on my ear.  Daddy assured her that River is the one who cut my ear, opening himself up to further lawsuits, and she said yes, she saw that, (and was smart enough not to assign blame) but she had cut me herself.  

My parents inspected my ear.  “Oh I am sure she’s fine,” they said.  Mommy did give me an extra long kiss, and that made me feel good.

The poor lady was very upset.  She looked at me, so meek and delicate, and she did not see the grizzly bear inside of me.  (Not that I recommend testing this theory by nipping a grizzly bear’s ears.  They are terrible to groom.)

My parents, being devious, did not tell me I also had a vet appointment that day, to get a tetanus shot I was supposed to get when the majority of teeth were ripped from my jaws. They calmed the groomer by saying a vet tech would check my ear, not caring that this abrupt news doubled my resting heartbeat.

We stopped at the vet's.  They found the groomer’s ear work to be more than adequate and also, at my insistence, checked their records, which showed I did not need the shot.  It was the best trip to the vet I have ever had

My ears are healing nicely, and I have proven myself to be one tough Yorkie. I have no fear about returning to the groomers, but I would like her to teach River that honesty if the best policy.  

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

I told you, mother, when I am done watching the ball game we can go for a walk   Until then you are going to have to wait.

Monday Question

Tell us about you water dish and food bowl.

Our water dish is new.  It is smaller than our older one.  River used to drink all the water in our larger dish and she made herself sick.  Our new bowl is silver and it sits inside a faux wood bowl.  It looks like the kind of bowl dogs would drink out of at an old Englishman's Club.

We are too dainty to eat off bowls.  We eat off plates

Nora is our June 11, 2017 Pup of the Week

“At least she didn’t suffer.”  That is something humans say when one of their own crosses the Bridge.  How and where one crosses means a lot to humans as if, by not suffering, it makes the event less traumatic.  On Friday, I recognized but did not celebrate, my fourth anniversary here at Rainbow Bridge.  I have learned many lessons here as I have watched thousands of dogs cross over the River of Life.  The most important one is how a dog passes over does not lessen the pain of those they left behind.

This week my good friend Nora joined her sister Lady and brother Fritzchen at Rainbow Bridge.  She suffered a double stroke and could not recover.  There was no lengthy illness, no multiple trips to the vets, no series of operations, but regardless, Nora is here with her siblings, and the woman who loved all three of them, Ingrid Schwabe, our friend from Alsdorf Germany, is missing them.

We were very lucky to meet Lady, Nora, and Fritz when they were on the mortal side.  Their mom was brave enough to join DS which was mostly populated by American parents.  She had a better command of English than many people born in America, and her love for her dogs shined through with every post.

Luckily all dogs bark the same language.  During those unwatched moments, when we dog played without our parents knowing, we had no problem understanding our German friends, and we were fascinated to learn about pups living in another country.

I don’t know why humans developed languages according to the imaginary boundaries the mapmakers drew, but here at the Bridge, all humans speak the same language, like we all have one of those translators the Doctor uses on Doctor Who.  I think it made the Immortal world a more peaceful place than the mortal one.  

Usually, when a pup passes, the clouds filled with tears come from one direction, but when Nora passed, because she was so loved across the world, clouds poured in and soaked us in all directions.

When Nora went to the Bridge her mom wished that she, Lady and Fritz would run through the hills and the fields together like they were puppies.  After an initial biting and wrestling reunion of the three siblings, they agreed to fulfill their mom’s wish as they took off for the hills, chasing one another and nipping at each other’s heels.  But there was also something their mom could not have imagined.  Halfway up the mountain, they began to fly, nipping at each other, wearing huge smiles, and then they howled at the moon in joy.

I wish their mom could have seen it, and I hope she can remember just a second of their many future dream visits, or she realizes that, when something falls in another room, or she hears an owl, that it is Nora, or one of her siblings, stop by to say I love you.

After four years I am still surprised that a mother’s love can reach across the Earth, and across the Bridge too, it is undying and undeniable.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: It's A Smal World

Social media has made the world a smaller place.  I have made friends with dogs from all over the world, which is fascinating because I get to learn about so many different people and cultures.  But it is also worrisome because every time there is a violent crime anywhere in the world there is a friend I need to say prayers for.

On 9/11 our human brother was asleep in his bed in his Queens’ apartment.  My parents knew there was little chance he was near Ground Zero when the attack occurred but they made frantic phone calls for an hour before they could confirm he was fine. Unfortunately, a family friend was on the first flight that hit the Twin Towers.

Another family friend was two blocks away when the Marathon bombers struck.  Mom’s niece’s husband’s family was sheltered in place in their home in Berlin after the December 16, 2016, Christmas market attack occurred a half mile from their house. That same niece was a few blocks from Time Square last month when a driver crashed into a group of pedestrians.

Not only do we have our own family to worry about but we need to be concerned about our online family.  We have many friends in Great Britain.  When the attacks at Manchester, or at the London Bridge occur, we think of our friends like Lou-ee and Abigail, and so many others, pray that they were nowhere near the scene and hoped they did not lose any loved ones.  

We were anxious to hear from our friends Rani Go, who lives in the Philippines, but after ISIS made it’s presence know in the southern part of the nation, and then after the mysterious casino robbery.  Rani assured us that her pack lives safely in the northern part of the country, but we worry.  It’s a small country.  

When attacks occurred in Nice there was our friend Easy Rider to worry about, and now his brother Phinney.  It seems violence occurs every day and where there is violence, there is someone we love in the vicinity.

Before social media, I only worried about the people in my country.  Attacks anywhere else seemed like they happened in another world.  Now we are more one world than one country.  I know humans who live in Russia and America have differences, but so do people who live in Vermont and Arizona.

We dogs never have differences.  We are not citizens of a country.  We are truly global citizens.

If there is one positive thing I can say about all the recent attacks is that they are becoming less shocking, which may show humans have become more jaded, but it is also a good thing.  The more these evil terrorists attack, the more ordinary, and less terrifying, they become.  That is why terrorism never works.

And the more united we become, the less these acts of evil work too.  Love can conquer hate.

If something happens in your country, please check in with your friends.  These evil people can reach any human and don’t care.

And look to us dogs.  We are all sharing this planet together for a short period of time.  Dogs always strive to make the world a better place.

We wish all humans felt the same way.

River Song is Worried Sick

I have always suffered from separation anxiety.  I cannot tolerate being separated from my parents.   They have tried to contain me in several different manners, but they have all proven futile. They put me in the laundry room behind a five-foot high fence.  I pushed off my three-inch legs and scaled it.  When they put me in a plastic crate, I stuck my little paw through the crate door and opened it.  I did the same with the wire crates, and also forced my head through the top of the wire crate and got out.  No cage can hold me.

My parents determined I would be less of a danger to myself if I were given free reign of the living room and kitchen while they were out.  Pocket stays happily in her crate, inside her kitty condo.

While they are gone I pace, I look out windows, I get on table tops, I fret, and I worry.  What I don’t do is go to the bathroom, which is good, or drink water, which is bad.

The Sunday before Memorial Day my parents went to a cookout without me.  I don’t know why.  It is a cook OUT!  I would have been good.  They left Pocket and me at home.  They didn’t come back until it was almost dark.  I was very worried.  It took me an hour to settle down after they returned.

On Saturday I worried myself sick.  My parents were gone for five hours.  I had not prepared myself for their lengthy absence.  I should have made sure my bowels were empty before they left.  Nothing makes bowels slip out of you like worry.  Sometime during the five hours, I doubled.  A lot.  I made a Jackson Pollock painting of poop on my pee pad.  When that was full, I let more artwork by the TV.  I think I pooped out more than my body weight.

Now, I not only had to be worried about my parents being gone but about how they would react to my poop decorations.  I was concerned and ashamed.  I paced between the windows while my worry gene triggered my drool mechanism.  I was too upset to drink water.

When they arrived, I barked happily.  As they were opening the front door, I jumped two feet in the air to see them through the door window.  When they got inside, they did not pick me up, or touch me.  They tried to play it cool.  Daddy leashed Pocket and me, and we went out to do our business while Mommy cleaned my droppings.  I was so relieved that they were home and I wasn’t in trouble. Then I realized I was thirsty.  When I got inside, I drank a whole big bowl of water.

Five minutes later I spit up a puddle of water, a few second later another puddle.  Ten minutes later came a full vomit and three then more vomits and diarrhea.  I couldn’t settle down.  I just kept walking around the house.  I had worried myself sick.

And this made my parents worried sick.  Logically they knew I was reacting from my separation anxiety.  But parents never think logically.  They began to fret that I had swallowed something that had caused a blockage.

They decided to take me for a walk.  That got all the anxiety out of my body, and I stopped vomiting.  I had a small plate of turkey which I kept down, and later that night some more turkey and kibble and kept that down.  By the end of the night, they determine the crises had passed.

My parents don’t know if I drank too much water and began throwing that up then that triggered me bringing stuff up from my stomach, or that I became dehydrated from drooling and ignoring my water then drinking too quickly when they got home.  So they bought me a new, smaller water dish.  That doesn’t seem a good way to combat dehydration to me but what do I know?

They are also concerned about how to combat my separation anxiety.  They might consult a vet for medication.  I don’t want to be drugged.  I do have the perfect solution.

My mom can never leave the house again.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

On the one paw I am full, on the second paw there are starving dogs in the world, on the third paw we all know I am going to eat it anyway.

Monday Queston

Where is your favorite(s) places to be rubbed or scratched:

Pocket:  I am so tiny I can be rubbed from tip to tail with one hand but I do like butt scratches.

River Song:  Give me a belly rub and I am a happy dog.   I love an ear scratch too

Cocoa Puff is our June 4, 2017 Pup of the Week

When I was still a mortal dog, and Tanner Bub passed to the Bridge, I entered his dreams and walked with him to the banks of the River of Life.  I watched my friend, who started the walk old and sick, become young and vital again.  When I arrived on the Immortal side, it was that young, vital friend who greeted me.

When Tanner passed, more than eight years ago, he had a little sister, Cocoa Puff.  Like all of us Cocoa grew older, and as she did life threw many tribulations at her, seizures, arthritis, the loss of an eye, until finally, this week, Cocoa had no fight left, and her mom assisted Cocoa on her final journey.

Cocoa was many things, the co-founder of social network for dogs, a sibling to humans, a sibling to dogs, and a daughter.

After her passing, and before she went to the Bridge, I met Cocoa in the Land in Between where I showed her how to enter the Tanner Brigade, the social network site that we created together in 2009.  

We walked by her house, and mine, and past many empty houses that, when their owners went to the Bridge, remained standing, a testament to their lives, and then over to the new construction, where lots of our new friends had built happy homes and filled our site with love and laughter.

I showed her Blogville, a place she never visited in her mortal life, and the home of the Idaho Pug Ranch, who, like Cocoa, lived in Pocatello Idaho.  “I am sorry you never got to meet them in the mortal world, but I am going to introduce you to Mabel when we get to the Bridge. You are going to love her.”

Finally, we went into Facebook Land to see the final remnants of the place where we first met Doggyspace and Enzo’s shiny new garage.

Then it was time to cross the River of Life and for Cocoa to become immortal.  It was raining when we arrived.  The clouds, filled with our parent's tears, had opened over us.  I made sure I collected all my mommy’s tears to help my garden grow.

I gave Cocoa the angel oath, Scooby designed her wings, Lady Bug showed her how to fly, and Leo promised to teach her how to become a ghost and visit her family.

Then Cocoa saw her angels siblings:  Tanner and Ruger.  She went to Tanner first.  They hugged for a very long time.  They had an inseparable bond, and now they were together for eternity.

Tanner let go, and Cocoa turned to Puppy Ruger, the dog Tanner personally chose to replace him.  Tragically Ruger got sick and went to the Bridge at a young age.  Ruger had triggered Cocoa’s motherly instincts and made her want to play like a pup again.  When Ruger departed Cocoa lost the desire to play, but, when she saw her little brother, she took off chasing him, and they did not stop for a half hour.

While it was a joyous at the Bridge back in Pocatello, the family was in mourning.  Cocoa had not just been a daughter; she has grown up with her human brother Alex.  They had that special relationship that only a  boy and his dog can experience.  They grew up together, until, as human boys must do, Alex moved away.  Cocoa knew this was part of loving a boy when he spread his wings; she had to let go.  But just before Cocoa got her wings, Alex joined his mother for Cocoa’s final trip, to give his support to Cocoa and his mom, just as Cocoa had raised him to do.

Cocoa also left behind her dog brother Max, who is lost without his big sister.  It is hard for a mom to lose her pup, and even harder for mom to see another dog she loves mourning.  Max, you will see Cocoa in your dreams, and you have her and two other brothers just waiting to take you on amazing adventures.  I know you miss seeing Cocoa in her mortal form but look for her in your dreams.

And most of all Max, Cocoa needs you to take care of the person your angel siblings love more than any other person in the world, your mom Trudee, who now has four angels at the Bridge, including Rommel, who arrived before dogs became proficient at computers.  

Having gone through it before does not make it any easier.  Mom Trudee is going to need all our love and prayers because a big part of her heart is now at Rainbow Bridge.  

But she is a tough woman, a great dog mom, and a fighter.  We know she is lost now, but, between her and Max, and her three angels, she will find her way out of the darkness.

She has a lot of angel power to light the way.