The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

What it have killed them to put up a "Watch Your Step" sign

I know we see pictures of one another but sometimes pictures can be deceiving.  By your best guess how tall are you and how much do you weigh? Pocket:  I guess I am about six inches tall and weigh six pounds. River Song:  I am eight inches tall and weigh 14 pounds. 

There are various ways that souls pass over the Bridge.   Some arrive as the result of a tragic accident, some linger and suffer for years, some succumb to a sudden illness, some live far beyond their life expectancy, some nowhere near it, and some just slip away in the middle of the night. My Blogger friend Sarge passed in his sleep this week without a sign that he was sick.  I have heard it said that this is the way to go.  No pain, no suffering, just drift off to sleep and wake up on the immortal side of the River.  But such a passing leaves questions on both sides. Sarge’s poor parents have no idea what happened to their beloved boy.  He had some problems but none that seemed life-threatening.  His parents were left to wonder why this happened and if they missed anything.  But they didn’t  One of the lessons the heavenly Group Of Dogs teaches us is that we only have so many heartbeats and sometimes we run out.   That is what happened with Sarge. It is traumatic for those d

I have told the story before, but it bears repeating because it was the beginning.  There was once a site called Doggyspace.  My Dad discovered it when reading a story about a “Facebook” for dogs.  I was seven years old.  Pocket was a puppy.  Dad created an account for us.  We immediately had 100 friends, many of them for life.   Everyone remembers that site as an idyllic place where all dogs got along and never was heard a discouraging word.  We do tend to look back and remember only the good times, which is proper, because we survived the bad times, and there is no need to relive them. 11 years later we count the people and dogs we met on that site as our closest friends.  We have shared their sorrow when a pup or person passes to the Bridge, and we rejoiced when a new member joined a friend’s pack.  We became a family that crossed oceans, and even the River of Life.   The only flaw dogs have is limited lifespans.  11 years is at least ⅔ of the average dog’s mortal time.  Ma

I am a dog who enjoys the simple life.  I want my breakfast, with a watermelon appetizer, some food while my parents enjoy dinner, preferably chicken, followed shortly by my supper, then a treat bone at night, and some kibble before bedtime.  I don’t mind a walk, neither do I demand one.  Most of all I want the human touch. And that is what causes me problems.  My parents have two recliners that are separated by an end table.  Jumping on these chairs can prove a challenge.  I have creaky, uncooperative knees, but since I am on supplements, I have more confidence when I take flight. I am a trained dog who graduated at the top of my class.  I know I am supposed to be invited to go on the furniture.  My parents tell me to come sit with them, but sometimes I am not sure if they mean it.  “Come on River, come up,” my parents plead.  Are they just being polite?  This question ties me in knots. I begin to spin on the floor and hunch my back.  One of my parents will get out of their ch

Wow.  I had a dream that I was a cat and chased myself up a tree.  That is the last time I have tacos before bed. 

If you entered the Winter Olympics what would be your sport?  It doesn't have to be a real sport.  Just something you are good at. Pocket; The Poop in the Snow Dump:  I would win gold. River:  The walk an icy driveway without stepping in ice challenge

When you are a dog who has been writing a blog for almost nine years and was on social media a year before that, you shouldn’t be surprised when a friend who you met the first day you dipped your paw into the online world, appears at Rainbow Bridge, given the lifespan of dogs.  But I was still stunned when my friend Shiloh appeared this week. What surprised me was the way Shiloh appeared.  Most dogs cross Rainbow Bridge then climb the stairs that lead up to the cliff where all angels are welcomed.  But Shiloh came down from the heavens, already with wings, because her name is Shiloh the Star Gazer, and before she retired to a more sedate life she thrilled us all with our horoscopes.  Being so in tune with the stars and the Gods earned Shiloh the right to travel past the stars and down upon us. After Shiloh descended, the rains of mortal anguish fell from the sky as all the tears her friends and family shed when they learned of her passing came down on us.  Once they passed Shiloh

I spent Wednesday as a ghost by Mommy’s side as she had her cataract surgery. I was able to comfort with her during the operation  I think she knew I was there.  That bit of warmth she felt on her lap when she got nervous was either me or a spot of pee.   Mommy went home the same day, and I had to leave her post-op care to Daddy and my two sisters  This was the first time in almost 20 years that she had a surgery and I was not there to take care of her.  This concerned me more than her surgery. I thought about the first time I took care of Mommy.  It was January 2002.   She had got her first knee replacement surgery.  I was a young pup but also the senior dog in the pack.  My big sister Blake had gone to the Bridge the previous October, and I was trying to teach Jax, an overeager male Papillon puppy how to be a good dog.  It was a lot of work. Mommy left on a Monday morning.  Jax and I went six days without seeing her.  He was panicked that she was not coming home, but I cou

A terrible occurrence has wreaked havoc on our family.  Cats attacked my Mommy’s eyes, and she needed surgery to fix them.   I don’t know when this attack happened.  I know it was not here.  River Song and I keep a close watch over our parents.  It must have happened when she left the house.  This is why we get upset when she leaves.  River stands on her back paws, wraps her front paws around Mommy’s legs, and holds on whenever she goes near the door. River slows her down but has yet been able to stop her. We never noticed anything wrong with her eyes, there was no sign of an attack, and she did not have the dreaded kitty smell, but somehow it happened.  River and I need one of those apps that show us if our parents are behaving or in danger when they leave the house.  It has to be programmed to allow us to bark at them if danger, such as a cat eye attacker come near them. Wednesday morning we got up with the sun, did our business, but did not get breakfast.   I was placed in

Have you ever dreamed of winning the Westminster Dog Show? Pocket:  No, I would never want to be in a dog show.  Too much noise and too many dogs. River:  Oh, yes, I would love to get up and strut myself in front of the people.  I think I am perfection and everyone should see me.

As many of you know, I was a lawyer when I lived on the mortal side of the River of Life.  I had no plans to ever move to Rainbow Bridge but the Big Guy offered me a position as District Four Judge at the Bridge.  I could not turn it down.  I passed over in June of 2013 and have been greeting, and swearing in, pup angels since that date.  It has been hard work, and often heartbreaking, but it does provide me with a chance to let grieving parents know that their lost pups are safe, young, and happy once again.  I also remind their parents that someday they will be reunited and until then they should look for signs their angels are visiting’; like dreams or pretty flying creatures. What is less known is that I have a kitty counterpart, Juge Cotton.  Dogs and cats are natural adversaries unless they live under the same roof, where they often become best friends.  Dogs and cats interact behind closed dogs, so others of their species do not judge them.  Occasionally, a dog and cat wi

It has been quite awhile since I have put on the old Ask Aunt Foley hat, but I have so many friends with questions, and I have so much experience, it is my duty to help them.  So on to the mailbag. Dear Aunt Foley:  My Mom has decided to go back to work.  I don’t know why. Is it something I did?  - Signed Molly Dear Molly:  No, it is nothing you did.  Your Mom loves you with her whole heart.  But sometimes parents need to go to work.  They get money which they can barter for kibble toys, and treats for you.  Also, working makes them feel better about themselves.  Take heart; there is no more joyous moment than when your parent arrives home from work.  Plus, you will be missed so your playtime and walk time will be even more special.  Just sleep when Mommy is gone, and it will seem like she has been gone only a few moments and you won’t miss her at all.   Dear Aunt Foley:  We love the Puppy Bowl.  How do we get to play in it?  Charlie, Toto, and Star Dear Charlie, Toto, an

Being a small dog has many advantages.  One of them is being able to sleep comfortably in the big bed at night.  If I want to snuggle with my parents, I can, but if I get tired of their constant twitching, or their overly excessive body heat, I can move to the end of the bed and sleep independently. Sometimes I love to snuggle in bed, but it has to be on my terms.  I walk up the mattress to where my parents are sleeping and then launch myself like a 14-pound cannonball against their backs.  They wake up momentarily.  The comfort of my body lulls them back to sleep.  But if I am asleep and one them rolls over then snuggles next to me I stand up, stare at them, give them my most disgusted look, and reposition myself. I don’t mind sharing the bed with my parents, but Pocket can be a bother. A couple of weeks ago I got a new harness with a plunging neckline.  It is very sexy.  Pocket was still wearing her old tag ring which was slightly open because of the number of times her notific

And when I press here it goes "SQUEAK"

if you wrote an autobiography what would the name be? Pocket:  Poops and Shakes.  The Story of a Nervous Little Dog River Song:  Pleasure Me With Belly Scratchers;  The LIfe of a Spoiled dog

I always have a special place in my heart for a Yorkie mix, even those I don’t know well.  While I have many friends who knew and loved Abigail the Munchkin I was just making her acquaintance when she was called the to Bridge leaving her broken hearted Mom behind. Abigail was met by her brother Bertie who preceded her to the Bridge.  Their union was remarkable to see.  Abigail ran with a joy she had not shown in years when she saw her brother.   They met and Bertie, the larger of the two dogs, rolled on his back, and Abigail ran around nipping at him.  Then they stood and joyfully began to chase each other’s tails.  It was all we could do to get them separated so Abigail could begin the procedure of becoming an angel. Abigail, in the mortal world, was the perfect combination of her litter parents, part Yorkie and part Jack Russell.  She lived in what we Yorkies call the old country, England, where she was happy to play the role of the lovable clown.  In the summer she loved playi

My Dad’s boyhood dog Barney, a mixed breed with thick, stubby legs, a long, stout body covered with dense black fur, stopped by my cottage this week.    I don’t see much of Barney.  On the mortal side, he was a strictly outdoor dog, except for hot days or cold nights when he settled in the cellar by the stairs, and he continues to enjoy being outside, chasing bunnies filled with stuffing, jumping in the dirty swamp, and exploring every inch of the land beyond Rainbow Bridge. He brought a stuffed rabbit he caught because he hates to arrive empty-mouthed. He sat with me at my kitchen table but I could tell he was antsy being inside so we went outdoors to the picnic table.  We began to discuss how dog's lives had changed from when he ruled his neighborhood in the 70’s to my ‘never being off leash’ lifestyle at the turn of the century. “I know you enjoyed the pampered life Foley,” Blake said taking a long drink of water and letting out a loud burp.  “But you missed out.   When my

Where was I?  Oh, that’s right.  My favorite blogging subject.  Midnight poops. I prefer to take my midnight stroll solo.  Daddy is welcome.  Someone has to pick up the poop.  But I would prefer to leave River behind.  She has no patience for anyone’s pooping except her own. When River doesn’t go with us, she hops over to the kitchen window and peers outside with a sad look on her face.  She forlornly watches as we walk up the street up till we are out of sight.  She stays there until she can see us then she begins to howl.  It is rather pathetic.  Even though she is inside where it is warm and dry, and with Mommy, she is so unhappy. Most of the time, when she doesn’t go out it is for her own good.  It is either really cold or very wet, two things that she can’t tolerate.  Usually, River anticipates when it is time to go outside and pees on her pads just before Daddy grabs the leashes.  You would think she would be happy not have to partake in accompanying me for the midnight p