The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

I had become worried about my Mommy.  There was nothing physically wrong with her, but I had not been able to visit her dreams.  There was something blocking access to them that scared me. I needed some friends to help, so I picked 12 for his size, Brooklyn for her speed, and Teddy Bond for his cunning. That night we flew into the sun and entered the beam that contained her dreams.  12, being the strongest, led the way, after pledging to knock down whatever barred entry.  Suddenly it was like we had hit a wall, and we were flung back, tumbling out of the beam and back to the Bridge. “What was it?” I asked 12. “I am not sure,” he said carefully choosing his words.  “It was much bigger and stronger than me. It pushed us away with just a slap.  I think it was a dream monster.” That made sense.  A dream monster was causing my Mommy to have nightmares and interfering with her sleep.  We needed to make it go away. Teddy went to his laboratory and came back with a stink bomb tha

One day, earlier this month, I was in the yard with Daddy.  He was attached to me by a leash that was hooked to my collar, so he didn’t wander away.  We walked over to the big pine tree where the birdhouse   was hung. Daddy stopped and looked at the tiny wooden structure.   Sticking out of the birdhouse was a robin.  It wasn’t moving. Daddy came near it and determined the bird was deceased.  Finding the robin carcass was strange. I have been told it is because when one dies a scavenger carries off the body.  I don’t think so. I think birds are immortal. Unless something untoward happens to them. Daddy reached in his pocket, took out a poop bag, grabbed the bird, pulled it out of the house and threw the body in the trash, a rather inglorious end to what I am sure was a rich life. When we got inside, I told River what had happened, and she was equally as curious. We both knew the ugly truth.  The bird did not die of natural causes; he was murdered inside the birdhouse ! I had

We are watching the Incredible Dr. Pol and then we will discuss my surrendering the remote.  Any questions?

How did you get your name: Pocket:  When I came home with my parents as a puppy I was so small I could fit into a pocket and that is how I became Pocket Dog. River Song:  I have two reasons for my name.  The first is after a character from the BBC series Dr. Who.  The second is from this lyric from the Van Morrison song Crazy Love  " I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles And the heaven's open every time she smiles And when I come to her that's where I belong Yet I'm running to her like a river's song"

Humans often say they would give up their lives for we dogs, but often the reverse is true.  We dogs put ourselves in harm’s way for our humans even when that threat comes from a gun. Our pup of the week, Rex, is one of those dogs. Sixteen-year-old Javier Mercado was home alone with his two-year-old German Shepherd Rex at their Des Moines Iowa home.  When burglars broke into the house, Javier grabbed Rex and hid in the closet. But the Shepherd knew there were dangerous intruders inside the house, and it was his duty to protect the occupant. Rex escaped from the closet, ran downstairs and tried to attack the burglars, but he was overpowered and savagely beaten.  The Shepherd retreated back upstairs to the closet while the criminals went room by room trashing the house room by room. Finally, they arrived in the room where Rex hid with Javier. The beaten dog found the strength to attack the intruders again.  Rex was shot four times in the neck, knee, and leg. The police, who had b

Dear Aunt Foley:  What is going on with all this snow?  We can’t take anymore. Please make it stop.  - Geordie. Dear Geordie:  I am sad to admit that the recent March storms may be partially my fault.  My good friends Max and Baron have not experienced snow during two winters with their parents.  I have desperately tried to change this by seeding clouds with water and cold then spinning them towards Max and Baron’s Maryland home.  The result has been no snow for them and 1100 feet of snow for everyone else Thankfully, on Wednesday they got their snow, and I can stop seeding clouds.  Mission accomplished. Dear Aunt Foley:  Is there any purpose to St Patrick’s Day except our parents making us dress up?   Ruby the Airedale.   Dear Ruby:  St Patrick’s Day is a phony holiday because our parents still have to work and there is no big meal where people drop food on the ground that we get to eat.  But our parents do like to dress us up, like on Halloween, or St Valentine’s Day, two

February 28, 2018 Dear Zell:  How are you, dear sister?  I hope you are experiencing good weather.  The temperature here is very comfortable and has been for the past two weeks.  It seems like late spring. I think that winter is gone for good. We have had several long walks in the last two weeks and are looking forward to more.  If you want to experience proper weather, my door is open to you. Love your devoted sister River Song. March 2, 2018 Dear Zell:  I am writing to tell you that we had the most dreadful storm last evening.  It was like one of your hurricanes. I know how fretful you become during such events.  We even lost our electricity. Of course, I remained unruffled by the high wind and rain although I did have to comfort silly Pocket.  She told me that I would come to resemble her after several more storms. Pish-posh. We Griffons do not get “worked up!” At least it was not snowing. Love your unaffected sister River Song March 7, 2018 Dear Zell:  Tell our birth mot

I am sorry.  No one told me what was in the kibbe

What is your favorite type of fruit or vegetable? Pocket:  I am not a big fan of vegetables but I tolerate carrots. River Song:  I love watermelon 

We dog will do anything to stay with our parents for as long as we can.  Four years ago Annie surrendered a leg to spend one extra week with her mom. Prince was slightly luckier.  He got six weeks with his mom after his foreleg was removed. Neither could escape the devastating effects of cancer, but they were happy for the extra time. What is particularly cruel in both cases is that Annie and Prince’s parents were told, post-surgery, that their babies were cancer-free, only to learn a short time later that the cancer had returned  Cancer is a terrible foe. It can be avoided, and some can escape from it, but it can never be defeated We dogs, when in pain unless it becomes unbearable, hide it from our parents.  It is our job to keep mom and dad happy and worry free for as long as we can. Prince knew, after his surgery, that he wasn’t cured, but he looked in his mom’ eyes and saw the most wonderful thing.:  Hope. No dog can extinguish hope from their mom’s eyes. Nor can a dog keep

I have an inquisitive mind.  I like to go to the library and get lots of books.  Recently I have been studying evolution. You would think that existing in the afterlife would make a dog dismiss the idea.  But many factors create life, and we need to consider them equally. Which is why I became fascinated with apes. They say humans are descended from apes.  But where did the need to accompany dogs come from?  Does it go back to the apes? Are we natural friends?  I needed to find out and to do that I had to assemble a team.  I choose Bella because everyone loves her, Reyah, who gets along with horses so should get along with apes, and Paco, in case the apes are Italian. I borrowed a jeep.  Bella climbed in the front next to me while Paco and Reyah got in the back.  Paco is a trusted aide who I listen to frequently. He tried to tell me this was not a good idea, but I assured him it would be fine.   I drove a long way into the Bridge jungle. We saw cheetahs, monkeys, and many curiou

 I used to get upset about bad storms, but since we have them once a week, I am getting used to bad weather.  On Tuesday we had another bomb cyclone which was neither a bomb or a cyclone, just snow six times higher than me. Three facts cannot be disputed:  If you live in the Northeast you are going to get snow in the winter if you sleep with a porn star you have to remember to sign the non-disclosure agreement, and I need to poop before bedtime.  On Sunday night the time change played havoc with my schedule. I did not take my late night poop on Sunday.  Daddy kept me walking for a half hour. I peed quite a bit but didn’t poop.   My parents were ready for an upset tummy Monday morning, but I ate and pooped regularly opening another chapter of the bestselling book “The Mystery of Pocket’s Bowels.” Tuesday morning the storm howled over our house.  We are lucky to have a porch and pee pads. Both River and I did our business there, neither of us wanting to place a paw outside.  Then w

I had to stop breastfeeding the lamb when her teeth came in

How long does it to take for you to desqueak a bargain-priced squeaky toy? Pocket:  I have sadly never desqueaked a toy. River:  A half hour to 45 minutes 

We dogs prefer to be referred to as loyal.  While there are many adjectives that define us that term illustrates our purpose on Earth.  But is there such a thing as being too loyal? Our two Pups of the Week and a third who isn't helping us seek an answer. The first pup has no name.  He belonged to a homeless man in Sao Paulo Brazil.  The man got into a violent fight and was stabbed. While the worried dog stood over his dad, emergency technicians put the man on a stretcher and transported him to the hospital.  The worried dog ran after his dad. The dad was brought into the hospital.  The dog stopped at the emergency entrance and laid down.  He was a good dog and knew he should not go inside. So he waited.  He has been there for four months. The homeless man died but the dog, like all loyal pups, is waiting for his dad to be done with his long appointment so they can be on their way. Hospital workers are taking care of him.  He has food, water, and a blanket to lie on.  The

At Rainbow Bridge, we have a never-ending supply of kibble.  Each morning we remove our share The pile goes down during the day, but by dawn, it is miraculously refilled.   Yesterday Leo told me that he had measured the kibble and sometime during the night it was disappearing.  We sat at my table stumped about who would steal our stash at night. It struck us both simultaneously like a lightning bolt:  Cats They are always prowling around at night while right-thinking animals are tucked in their beds.  They act like we are friends, but we know they can’t be trusted. If we allowed them to take our kibble what would be next? Our goodies?  Our treats? I put together a canine crack crew to infiltrate the cat village and take back what was ours. I had Leo, the intelligence; Abbie, a recent arrival at the Bridge, who knew the latest kitty tricks, was the infiltrator; Sandy our daredevil friend, the thief, although he would never steal anything belonging to another.  He would merely t

I do not get worked up by the weather, unlike my sister.  I hate the snow and the cold, but it doesn’t give me the trembles.  I just dig my paws in and refuse to go outside. So, while everyone got worked up about the latest bomb cyclone that brought five inches of rain and hurricane force winds, I remained my usual unflappable self. In the morning, per usual, Pocket went out first.  She came back inside soaking wet with all her hair windblown to one side of her body.  Daddy picked me up and brought me out on the porch. He leashed me and carried me into the crazy sideways rain and howling wind.  I quickly peed. There was no attempt to make me poop. If Pocket poops inside, she hides it behind the furniture, but I always leave it right in the center of the pad for a quick and easy pickup. Daddy went to work, and we stayed inside protecting Mommy.  We barely barked. There was nothing that caught our attention except when the empty trash barrel tried to escape by rolling down the driv

I have tried them all. Seresto, Advantage, Frontline, Bravecto but no matter what I do I still have cats

Do you have any sleeping positions that your parents find off or interesting? Pocket:  I sleep on my back with my tongue hanging out of my mouth. River Song:  I sleep on my side with my arms straight out like a toy horse that has tipped over.

I woke up as a gentle golden paw shook my shoulder.  I opened my eyes and saw Angel Misha, one of the Golden Girls, standing over me.  Her sad eyes told me all I needed to know.  I sighed as I got out of bed.  Our prayers had failed.  The heavenly Group Of Dogs who now run Rainbow Bridge said no. Misha’s sister Guinevere had begun her journey. We walked to the landing at the top of the stairs.  Misha blinked her eyes.  I could not detect if it was from being tired or sad.  For two weeks she had shuttled from the Group of Dogs who run the Bridge to Guinevere and their parents desperately trying to heal her sister.  Misha lay down and put her golden head on her long yellow legs. “How long have you been here Misha?” I asked. “Since December 2013,” she said sadly.  I had no idea it had been that long.  “My parents have not recovered from my passing.  Now Guinevere.”  She took a deep breath, and I laid down next to her.  We waited. The Golden Girls are natural performers.  They ha

The Triple T’s Mom Aunt Linda asked me to write about some of the adventures we angels have at Rainbow Bridge.  I am happy to accommodate her.  Since Aunt Linda asked I feel it is proper to write about an adventure, I undertook with Aunt Linda’s Angel Lovey. One day Lovey came to me with the idea of going on a beautiful picnic on top of a waterfall that fed the river.  It was dangerous getting there, but Lovey was sure we could do it.  We needed a couple of stronger dogs to help us with the climb, so we invited Reyah and Pintus.  Lovey, who is an excellent cook, said that she would make the food.  The next morning the four of us took off on our adventure. We reached the base of the waterfall.  Pintus had promised there was a balloon that would take us to the top of the cliff, but while we were walking, we saw it floating away.  A squirrel had chewed through the line.  Darn those squirrels.  They are impossible to deal with even in the afterlife.  Reyah looked at the vertical clim

One day last week we left River Song alone in the house.  As I settled on Mommy’s lap, Daddy started the car, and I became excited about the prospect of our destination.   Disappointingly, as usual, our ride concluded at the vets.  It is one of life’s never-ending disappointments. I had four vet trips last year, one for my checkup, one for teeth removal and cleaning, one for a collapsed trachea, and one for a nasty tick.  I did not enjoy any of them.  When we arrived at the vet, I ran my tongue around my few remaining teeth and worried that at worst they would take more and at best they would give me sleepy juice and clean them. As we crossed the threshold, my Dad handed over a fecal sample, apparently mine, which displeased me.  It has long been my policy not to give a s**t, and I have no respect for a person who takes s**t.  But I quickly forgot about it when I saw the busy waiting room. Mom and I sat in a chair, but Daddy had to stand by the door because the other seats wer