The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

Can you please shut the door.  I'm not dry yet.

How many time do you get fed a day? Pocket:  We get breakfast and supper and I get a small plate of food while River gets her bone stuffed with turkey and kibble.

All dogs come to Rainbow Bridge to wait for their loved ones.  When their parents arrive, they can either move to the land of Happily Ever After or stay until their children arrive.  Most parents prefer to wait for their kids.  When they arrive, the family retires to the quiet land of Happily Ever After while their children can await their own offspring. Sometimes dogs can be at the Bridge for decades.  We have a pup in the Fourth District, named Chips, who has been here nearly seventy years.  His parents joined him here years ago, but they are waiting for their son before they leave for Happily Ever After. Chips is a wise, brave, smart dog who saved many humans and even bit the hand of a President.  This is his story. Chips is a Siberian Husky, Shepherd, Collie mix whose Dad is named Edward Wren.  When World War II began, Wren volunteered his eager dogs to join the army.  Chips went to boot camp at War Dog Training Center in Fort Royal, Virginia. There were 40,000 pups who

I would like to introduce you to Dr. Benjamin Hart.  He is Distinguished Professor Emeritus at the School of Veterinary Medicine, University of California, Davis.  He is a former winner of the Companion Animal Veterinarian of the Year Award.  But what he really likes to do is watch dogs eat poop. I wonder if Dr. Hart when he was young while explaining to his parent’s why he wanted to go to veterinary school, dismissed the idea of helping animals and admitted his expensive education was only about spying dogs consuming feces. I am sure Dr. Hart is a fantastic vet who has saved countless dogs and done critical research with great benefit to all, but I have to wonder, as so many of my friends cross the Bridge for various reasons, if all his wisdom might be put to better use than figuring out why we eat poop I know humans have tried various remedies to break us of what they term to be a disgusting habit, although the one that would work, making poop float, they ignore.  We will eat

One night last week I was sitting with Mommy in my recliner when a familiar smell wafted up from the grates.  Pocket, who was sitting with Daddy gave me a questioning look, and then we both charged towards the vent in the kitchen where we began barking loudly.  “Oh no, not again,” Mommy said. She had reason to be concerned.  The creatures who live under the floorboards had returned. They arrive every year, between the holidays and springtime. They emit a smell only dogs can detect.  It is up to us to keep the monsters from crawling up and eating our disbelieving family. That night when our parents fell asleep, I lifted Mommy’s IPad from her drawer.  Pocket and I got in the center of the bed because our parents sleep on the edges like they had both ingested permanent magnets repelling one another.   We fired up the Google and began our search. “It could be a hippocampus,” I told Pocket.  The beast has the head of a horse and the body of a fish.  The fish part could explain t

I love my daily walks

What breed of dog has your parent always wanted to own but never has? Answer:  A pug.  My parents find them to be very cute.  

I have to issue a sincere apology to my friend boxer friend Bailey who arrived at Rainbow Bridge at the same time Hattie Mae passed over.  We all concentrated on Hattie’s arrival, and Bailey did not get the tribute he deserved. Bailey’s brother Brutus preceded him to the Bridge by eight months.  A few years before that their brother Hans made his final journey.  That made more members of the Boxer Brigade at the Bridge than at their Mom’s house. This is part of the reason I neglected to single out Bailey for recognition.  As soon as he crossed he disappeared with his two brothers.  We would hear rumors of an urgent project the Boxer trio were undertaking, but there were no details. Earlier this week I found an exhausted Bailey lying on the river bank.  I assembled all my ovarian fortitude to perform one of my most difficult duties:  to apologize.  When I arrived at his side, he looked at me and smiled.  “Hi Foley, I want to apologize for not being around since I arrived,” he sa

Humans can’t leave us alone.  Normally this makes us happy.  But there is one group of people we would prefer give us some distance:  Researchers.  (Unless the researcher is our parent and we keep the relationship strictly unprofessional.) This group of mad scientists is now, because of advances in artificial intelligence and machine learning coming close to being able to verbalize our thoughts and needs. Isn’t that great?  People who do little are going to turn into actual Dr. Dolittles. Tails From Rainbow Bridge: The Age of the Talking Dog is Upon Us Here is a secret about dogs.  It’s not that we can't communicate with you, it’s that we don’t want to do it.  Any idiot can speak.  I learned this watching C-Span.  It takes a superior intellect to communicate through smiles, head turns, and soul-searching looks from our beautiful eyes. We have heard how you talk to one another.  “How was your day?” “Good, how was your day?”   “Good.”  “That’s good!”  We refer to these int

I am a dog of habit.  I need everything to be done on schedule.  If there is any change, it disrupts my delicate system. My poop timetable is very important.  There is the morning poop which takes place when I first get up, and my midnight poop which occurs on my last trip outside.  I do reserve the right for a midday poop which may take place on a walk or at any point I want to cut it loose. Daddy is in charge of poops.  Mommy puts it in; Daddy takes it out.  There isn’t much work to the morning poop.  If it is cold or wet, I will gladly do the morning poop on the pads.  But the midnight poop must be done outside and be precluded by a walk. If this does not happen then the next morning, I will refuse to eat, and before I relent, I will leave a poop worthy of a Jackson Pollock painting either indoors or out, my choice, which will scare my parents into a poop studying frenzy for the next week. In the last ten days, my Daddy and I have faced several difficult challenges to ach

Screw this Homeward Bound stuff. I can find a family in the woods to live with.

Who is your favorite dog friend who is not on social media? Pocket:  I don't like other dogs very much.  I tend to bark at them and chase them away.  I would say it is my cousin dogs Neely who comes to see us twice a year River Song:  Suede, our groomer's dog.  When we both lived in Florida we had relations and I had a litter.  A girl doesn't forget her first, especially when it was her only.  (That's my story and I am sticking to it)

Saturday night I was sitting at the top of the Bridge looking over the steps that dogs climb as they complete their final journey.  It had been weeks since I had written a Pup of the Week blog that did not involve a dog’s passing.  I gave one final look to confirm there would be no new angels or broken-hearted parents to honor. I went to my cottage, opened my computer, and began to search for an inspiring dog that I could honor.   If I couldn’t find one I would create one  Yes, it would be fake news, but no one complains about fake news when it is a happy story. Luckily I did not have to rely on my imagination.  I quickly found some amazing dogs.   I am glad there is more than one because the first dog is named River, like my sister, and if I titled a blog “River is our Pup of the Week,” I would scare many friends. This River is a black lab who lives with the Beaudreau family in St. Louis’ southern county.  Last Sunday, at 2:00 AM, River, who is usually a mellow dog and sleep

Authors have many reasons for writing blogs.  When I was a mortal dog, and I was writing about my daily life my goal was to entertain as many souls as possible.  My sisters have stolen my idea and have tried to make a name for themselves following in my paw prints.  I allow them to do so knowing no matter how much success they may achieve they will never be as notable as the paw that made the original mark. When you become immortal many of the issues that troubled you on the mortal side melt away.  Like all bloggers, I would sneak a peek at how many “hits” I achieved from my last post.  I measured my success by the number of comments I received.  But now there is only a single number I care about:  One. On Sunday I wrote about Ginger Lynn. I imagined my regular readers would bypass the blog because they did not know the subject.  That was fine.  All I wanted was for Ginger’s dad to read it and be helped. I didn’t write about Ginger because I thought it was a good story, or worl

I have already written about my hatred of snow, but last Thursday the snow struck back. Daddy got up first and took Pocket outside to pee.  I have no problem admitting that Pocket handles the snow better than I do, despite being less than half my size.  She was raised by Foley who refused to fear anything, including the weather.  If Pocket declined to go outside because of snow Foley would laugh at her the rest of the day.   Pocket is kinder than Foley and knows if she laughs at me I will use my size advantage to quiet her quickly.  So I have no sibling pressure to go outside in the terrible  weather. Pocket will also pee anywhere, and when she went out the back porch door, she smartly peed on the landing and hurried back inside.  Daddy brought Pocket back inside and told Mommy he thought I should use the pee pads in the hallway but Mommy said he should try to take me outside, because I tend to take massive morning pees that cover half the pad, without realizing there was 50 MPH

I told you I was wearing this! Why did you wear the same thing! I am so embarrassed. Just stand here and hope no one notices

What are your feelings about snow or the cold? Pocket:  I don't like snow but I don't mind the cold.  I still go for a late night poop on the coldest nights.  I poop faster on those nights but I still walk. River Song:  I want nothing to do with any of it.  I won't do my business outside unless there is grass.  Wake me when spring comes

Recently I have been hijacking my parents Facebook account and visiting the Rainbow Bridge Dogs group.  There are multiple posts daily from parents who have just lost their pups and are grieving with every fiber of their souls.  I tell the parents that I met their babies at the Bridge, and they are young and healthy again, they will visit their broken-hearted parents as flying birds or butterflies, the parents will see their pups in their dreams, and sometimes, just out of the corner of their eye. Occasionally a post contained so much sorrow I become worried about the author, such as the words written by Daddy Roc, who lost his beloved Ginger Lynn to cancer suddenly in November. I met, and swore in, Ginger on the day she crossed.  I was enamored with her the first time I laid eyes on her.  A lovely girl.  Of course, she is a Yorkie.  There is something so special about that breed.  She was like looking in a mirror. Immediately she told me about concerns regarding her Dad.  I as

At Rainbow Bridge, we don’t recognize the New Year.  When you are living for eternity marking days serves no purpose.  But we do like to have a celebration when our humans do, and we have a feast to give thanks for the friends and family who did not join us the in the immortal word the previous year. We all toasted Angel Apollo, the most famous angel dog rescuer at the Bridge,  His mom helps him rescue hundreds of dogs, and they both work on finding the perfect homes for the pups.  This week not only did Apollo and his mom find a home for one of her rescues, Barry, but when Barry’s new parents saw how close their new dog was with fellow rescue Maurice, who had been deemed unadoptable because Maurice does not like being touched or receive attention, and how upset he was to see Barry going, they rescued him too.  Maurice was one of the most unlikely dog rescues of the year, and we howled at Apollo in appreciation. Pintus lead us in our New Year’s Resolutions which all had to do wit

It is time for New Year’s resolutions, some of which I endeavor to keep before the final sunsets on 2018. I am resolving to make my parent's life easier.  While on my walks, or looking out my back window, I bark at any person, dog, or cat I see, and sometimes I bark just to hear to my own melodious tone.  I do not vow to cease my barking, but I am willing to cooperate with my parents’ wishes that the noise is quieted. Every dog has certain words that, when heard, immediately makes them stop barking. Unfortunately, all the words that make me stop barking are racist.  When we are on walks, and my Dad is afraid my barking will cause the neighbors to complain, he will scan his surroundings to confirm there is no one within earshot and softly say one of the magic racist terms to stop my vocal expression. Inevitably there will be someone behind a house who hears my Dad imploring me to stop barking via the secret word and that person will amble over to him and say “what did you

What is your New Year's Resolution? Pocket:  For the tenth year my New Year's Resolution is not to pee in the house.  One of these years it has to stick. River:  While I plan to be happier than ever this year I am going to try to hide it better.  No more of me always looking like I am overjoyed, like this for example.  I don't want to embarrass myself.