Monday Question

What technique to get your parent's affection works best?

Pocket:  I paw at my parent's hand until the pay attention to me.

River: I lick my parent's hand until it goes numb or they pay attention to me

Cammy is our April 29, 2018 Pup of the Week

On Thursday Cammy Korunka appeared at Rainbow Bridge.

I had not anticipated her arrival.  We had received a lot of prayers for her because she had to go to the vet, and we delivered them to the Big Guy, but we did not think there was a reason to be concerned.

Then I got summoned to the Bridge and saw Cammy running up the stairs.  When she reached the reception area, she gave me a hug and a big lick. “Angel Foley, it is a pleasure to meet you,” she exclaimed.  She then took my tiny paw between her two large ones and shook it.

“Cammy,” I said cautiously, “do you know where you are?”

She laughed.  “Of course Angel Foley.  I am at the Rainbow Bridge in my younger body no longer feeling any pain.  I can’t wait to go running through those hills,” she said nodding to the rolling green mounds in the distance.  “Now what do we have to do? Is there some paw work I need to fill out?”

I told Cammy there was only the super secret angel oath, then administered it to her.  “Where do I get my wings?” she asked looking around excitedly.

Sometimes new angels don’t know what being on the immortal side means.  I asked her if she understood crossing to the Bridge meant she had to be separated from everyone she loved on the mortal side.  “Oh,” Cammy said, her grin disappearing. “You mean my mom.”

I told her I did and asked if she realized it would be a long time until they played and snuggled again.

“Of course Foley,” Cammy said.  “Before I crossed over Mommy and I had a long talk. 

 She told me she loved me the most and I told her the same.  Then we cried lots of tears.” Just as she said that a tear cloud passed over the river.  “Here come our tears now,” Cammy said. When they began to fall, Cammy gathered them up. “These are a mixture of my mom and me, just like our hearts beat as one, our tears fell as one, and I will keep them together on my cloud to remind me every day of the love we have shared and will share.”

I gave Cammy a golden chalice, and she poured the tears into it.  “Before I crossed over my mom and I promised one another that we would be strong, and we would embrace the world each day apart as we did together.  We owe it to each other to keep on going even though the loneliness is going to be crippling. All I have to do is dip my paw in the chalice, and the loneliness will be gone, and I will feel all the love again.”

I told Cammy I thought that was a brilliant arrangement and kissed her.  “I hope my mom has something to touch and think of me too,” she said softly, Then she remembered her agreement with her mom.  “I am going to go off running and barking for a while,” she said. I ordered her a pair of wings so she could fly and I soon saw her flapping through the air and smiling broadly.

We are going to try very hard to help Cammy keep up her end of the bargain she made with her mom, and we hope the humans can help her mom too.


Love is the only cure for loneliness.

Foley Tests the New 2018 Fllying Month Models

All winter my minions have been working on new flying creature bodies for us to use when we wish to visit the mortal world.  With the temperatures finally warming I wandered down to the factory to check on this year’s models

“Oh, we have some beauties,” the smarmy salesman told me.  “We have cut down on wind shear, added torque, put in stabilizers, and increased ring flapability.  I think this little beauty is going to take you to the mortal world and back in nothing but comfort.”
I had heard the same story every year, and I always ended up with an old rickety body to try and visit my parents.  At this time of year, only the white moths are available. It would take weeks before the beautiful butterflies were ready.  I decided, while my mom was working in the yard, to take a chance and test drive the moth.

“Beautiful,” the salesman said when he learned I wanted to test a unit.  “Here is one of our top vehicles,” he said pointing to a moth. “It handles like a dream and will get you there in comfort.”  I climbed into the body. It was a little roomier than last year’s model, and they had installed a cup holder which was nice. I started it up and took to the air.

I set the coordinates to my parent’s house.  I came out of the sun and headed right for them.  The unit was holding together nicely. I aimed to land on my mom’s shoulder and brush her ear to say hello

Then a gust of wind hit me.  Stabilizers my tail! I got blown away by my Mommy and headed to the shed.  I went to put my feet on the wall and realized the stupid minions had not added suction to my paws.  If I landed on the ground, I wouldn’t have the wing strength to get in the air. I caught a wind gust and tried to use my wings to fly but kept sinking.  I knew one minion who was going to get a lecture on flapability. Luckily air got under me, and I was lifted on to my sisters’ stroller.

“Hi Foley,” Pocket said.

“Still having trouble with the moth model?” River asked.

I had no time for their impertinence.  I turned hoping my Mommy would see me but she was concentrating on her garden.  Another burst of wind caught me and lifted me off the stroller. “Bye Foley,” my sisters said.

I was back in the air.  I looked at my instrument panels and saw the battery power was low.  With all my energy I worked my wings until I got into the jet stream and let it blow me back into the sun.  I glided back to the minion plant.

“Did everything go as expected?” the smarmy salesman asked.
I gave him a long list of improvements needed before I could trust the vehicles to be ready to for my friends to use.  The minions were complaining as I left. I ignored them. Nothing but the best for us angels.


I will soon take another test drive, but I doubted the improvements would be made.  The minions know we would use any rickety thing to visit our parents

Pocket Enjoys the Year's First Warm Day

Today we finally got a warm garden day.  It was glorious. River Song and I were placed in our executive overseer’s buggy.  It was the pushed into the sunniest spot in the yard. It has been so long since we have felt the sun on our hair.  We could feel every strand warm from the tip down to our skin.

The grass had finally turned from a dull yellow to a thick green.  It still is not growing much. Daddy mowed the lawn, but when he pulled the catcher off the back, there were only a small amount of clippings, like a disappointing haul on Deadliest Catch.

Mommy had cleaned out a pair of gardens the previous two weeks, but the weather had been cold and cloudy.  There was little motivation for hard garden work. But today, with the newly cut grass wafting the scent of spring through the air, and the sky a lovely shade of blue, cleaning the gardens was much more rewarding.

River and I lay next to one another in our stroller.  We happily watched over the beautiful crocuses and daffodils, and we sang “rise up” to the other bulbs which have been hiding under the cold, dark ground waiting for the temperatures to warm.  Hopefully, by next week, we will see their smiling faces too.

Winter is a slob.  It leaves it’s rubbish everywhere, but mostly in gardens.  Winter is cold and hard. It hates beauty; it is intent on covering everything colorful with a sheet of plain white.  When that melts, the mayhem beneath is revealed. We instructed Mommy to remove sticks from our crushed hostas bushes and said a prayer that they would bloom.  To encourage them the forsythia bush is flourishing. Its beautiful yellow petals shone in the sun

Daddy fixed the edging around the garden that had been heaved up and twisted sideways.  We suggested he alternate between the red and white edging. We think it came out lovely.  Then the solar lights were put around the driveway and the gardens. 

Even though the sun has not been able to sparkle on our flower-filled gardens yet the solar lights will light up the darkness like dozens of stars

Near the end of our workday, a miracle happened.  For just a few precious seconds a white moth dipped down near our stroller.  It was Foley, in a borrowed body, coming to say hello for the first time this spring and to check on our work.  She gave us an approving tip of her wing and disappeared into the sun.


We are wishing you all many more sunny, warm days after the long winter and may your flowers grow beautifully and your vegetables are scrumptious.  

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

I farted in the Bachelorette's face and I still got a rose.  I can't change.  I am a chick magnet.  

Monday Question

Where is your favorite spot to lie in the house?

Pocket:  Our favorite spot is in bed but the next best spot is next to Daddy on his recliner with my butt against him and my head lying on the chair' soft arm.




River:  Mommy's lap.

Molly the Wally is Our April 22, 2018 Pup of the Week

Social media works much better for dogs than it does for humans.  We are never cruel nor cowardly, especially when our parents are threatened.  We know hate is foolish and love is wise. We are always kind and try to be nice.  We use the Internet to lift one another up, unlike our humans who too often use it to tear one another down.

I have dozens of online friends whose exploits I check daily.  They never fail to provide a chuckle or lift my spirits. Sometimes, when they join me at the Bridge,  their parents no longer have the heart to help them blog, which I understand. Sometimes online friends just disappear not to be heard from until their Bridge Day.

For years Molly the Wally provided me both smiles and comfort.  She had the most clever blog on the ‘net. Molly had a little stuffie named Mini Molly who often substituted for her so she and her friend Pip could reenact their antics and conversations with thought balloons.

Molly and Pip also had talking heads that provided us with news commentary.

And then there were just her silly adventures and her Downton Abbey spoofs.  Her blogs were like a fresh Monty Python skit one click away on your computer.

In 2015 Molly’s mom announced that she had injured her shoulder while trying to break up a fight between two dogs she did not know.  She would have to take a break from blogging. Sadly, except for holiday posts, her mom was unable to continue with her joyful blogs, and we lost touch with Molly.
Three days ago I was summoned to my spot to meet a new angel.  The brown and tan dog running up the steps looked familiar. “Hello Judge Foley Monster!” she said with her regal British accent.

“Molly the Wally!” I exclaimed hugging her.  “How have you been?”

“Not well, you see, I recently passed,”  Molly replied. I have to stop asking that question.  

When they learned that Molly had arrived her friends who enjoyed her blog and friendship flooded the greeting area.  She was told countless times how much her humor and kindness were appreciated. 
Everyone pitched in to teach the sweet little Molly everything she needed to know, including how to visit her mom in her dreams, as small flying creatures, and even as a barely perceptible ghost.  
She learned very quickly and is her mom’s devoted guardian angel who is working hard to make sure her mom never hurts herself as she did three years ago.  Humans are very hard to take care of, but I am sure Molly is up for the challenge

Best of all, for us angels, Molly puts on a puppet show in the town square every day.  Once again Molly is giving us a daily smile

We hope, despite her loss, that her mom can find her daily smile soon.




.  

Shiloh Finds Her Mom a Dakota

When angels arrive at the Bridge one of their sacred duties is, if their parents wish, to find the perfect dog to become their mom and dad’s constant loving companion.  Angels know how much pain their departure caused those left behind and the only way to start healing is to fill the void they created.

There are several different methods to reach this goal.  Some angels scour the Internet for rescue dogs and then slip into their dreams to explain their parents’ specific needs and see if there is a pup that meets the requirements.  Others go to the puppy creation room to interview those yet to be born to see if they can sculpt their parents the perfect dog.

Shiloh has always been intune with the stars and the way of the cosmos.  While she was in the mortal realm, she was known for her accurate horoscopes and when we were in a quandary many of us turned to Shiloh knowing her stargazing would lead to a solution.

It was no surprise when Shiloh eschewed all the traditional ways of finding her parent’s a new pup and relied on the constellations and planets to lead her to the perfect dog.  This week Shiloh found her.

Shiloh’s mom was looking for a small to medium sized female, with an age range from puppy to young adult.  While Shiloh was star gazing she looked up to see the regal name, Dakota. Then she set out to find her.

During a dream, Shiloh convinced her mom to fill out applications with three local rescue groups.  Shiloh searched all the dogs connected to the rescues and found Dakota It took a little angel manipulation for Shiloh to get the people running the rescue to call her mom and tell her that “they’ had found a match for her, a 26-month-old, 14 pound Papillon mix who was, of course, named Dakota.

When we find the right dog most of us worry that something will go wrong before the new pup arrives home but Shiloh had no such concerns.  She knew it was written in the stars and nothing could stop Dakota from entering her parent's lives.

And Shiloh was right.  There was no cause to worry.  Dakota is now at Shiloh’s house sleeping where Shiloh slept, playing where Shiloh played and taking a space in her parent’s hearts near the spot that broke when the stargazer went to the Bridge.  Dakota can’t repair their hearts, but through love and good memories, she can create something new and strong on the foundation built by Shiloh’s love.


Shiloh has not stopped searching the stars for answers, but she is very grateful that the biggest question has been answered by Dakota.  Every time her parents rub Dakota Shiloh can feel it, and it fills her heart with love.

River Fights For Her Right To Chew Her Paw

What is the world coming to when a dog can’t lick her own foot.?
I have been enjoying some really good foot licking lately. It is my back left paw, one that’s easy to reach.  And it is mine. It isn’t a toy sent to me that I have to share. It is solely mine, and I should be the one to decide what I do with it.

Lately, my paw has been itchy.  There is nothing more satisfying than licking an itchy paw.  It is something we can do that only the most limber of our parents can match.  I am sure they watch us going to town on our paw and think “I wish I could do that.”

Last fall I was doing the same to my front paw.  My parent butted in and dragged me to the vet. They gave me medication that stopped the itching and the licking.  I understood their logic because I was limping. There was no limping this year and no need for parental interference.

Of course, that never stopped a parent.  Just the appearance of slight tenderness on my paw pad sent them into a tizzy.  Thankfully the vet, tired of my parents’ constant calls, agreed with me, that there was no need for a visit, but did prescribe the prednisone.
I should have refused to eat it, but the food is my weakness.  You could bury a burnt turd in my dinner, and I would gobble it down, so I took their pill.  As far as I was concerned the matter was closed.

But as soon as I began to satisfy my itch, I was yelled at:  “Stop licking!” Excuse me? Do I tell you to stop scratching and I have seen you scratching in some nasty places.  Even Shylock in a Merchant of Venice stated: “It we itch do we, not scratch? Shylock’s parents weren’t chasing him around Italy demanding he cease licking.

I have been taking the prednisone for a few days, and my urge to lick has lessened, but I still try only to be scolded by my parents who are now trying to control my bodily functions.  

My sisters lead the movement for “Freedom to Bark,” and now hundreds of dogs are barking their thoughts across social media.

Now I pick up their mantle, and I am leading the “Freedom to Lick” movement.
Itchy paws matter.


Stick with me my friends, and we shall overcome.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

Come on in.  I am still working in the kitchen.  Go to the bar, feel free to make yourself a drink and you can either wait in the library or on the veranda.  

MONDAY QUESTION

How many different types of treats do you eat?

Pocket:  Because of my tummy we can only have a few things.  Our main treats are Sizzzler strips.  we also get some chicken and turkey which is yummy..

JESSIE IS OUR APRIL 15 2018 PUP OF THE WEEK

We dogs have lucky lives.  Some of us stay on the mortal side for many years, and others only get a short amount of time with our parents.  But those of us with short lives can squeeze 16 years of love in less than a quarter of the time.

That is certainly true of Jessie from the Legacy Chronicles.  She had less than four years with her family. When she was a year and a half, she was diagnosed with chronic renal failure.   A year ago the vet told her parents that there was no additional medication she could be given. Jessie needed to keep taking what was prescribed and live for the day, which she did very well and with great enthusiasm.  

Last Monday Jessie’s mom knew the medication had done all it could for her girl.  She had been growing more lethargic and not eating. Finally, she would not go on her walk  Jessie was taken to the vet. Her mom expected to either aid Jessie to the Bridge or be told her journey would end in a few days.  Instead, she got more medication and a lot of confusion.

Moms usually know when it is our time.  Vets are taught to preserve life and sometimes try to do so when letting go is the answer.  Jessie was given the new medication and had her camel treatments increased, but she only slowly grew worse.
Two days later her mom made the ultimate sacrifice, and she sent Jessie to the Bridge a month short of her fourth birthday.

But boy, did Jessie fill a lifetime of love and adventure into less than four years.  She started out as a foster dog but as soon as her mom encountered Jessie’s infectious personality, big smile, and goofy nature she knew that this silly girl was at her forever home.

Jessie managed a million goofy smiles in her short life and four times that many licks.  She became best friends with her sibling Casey and also with her reluctant cat sibling Pigeon who firmly bonded with the much larger dog.  Jessie loved everything she saw immensely. She had to; she didn’t have time for anything else.

Except for energy:  For running, for playing, for embracing life, and snuggles.  She never lost her puppy energy. She used up every ounce.

When Jessie arrived at the Bridge, she was met by the dog who had chosen her.  Cinderella crossed over before Casey and then picked the happy pup for her family.  Cinderella knew Casey would not have a long life but that she would fill her family with a lifetime of energy and love.

Dogs who arrive at the Bridge after suffering from a genetic defect rarely know life without discomfort.   After crossing over, they feel a wave of joy when they realize they are pain-free. Jessie felt it as soon as she crossed the Bridge.  She ran right past us. She felt so good she kept running for hours. Then, when she got her wings, she flew even longer.

We angels feel terrible for the parents of young dogs when the pups arrive on the immortal side.  We know the unbearable sadness they experience and the feeling that they have been robbed of love and time.  We say special prayers for them every day.

We are also grateful for the playful energy young angels bring us, and no dog has a greater abundance of that than Jessie.  When she arrived here, it was like the Bridge had been plugged in and lit up. She has given us all more energy and has everyone loving and playing more.

We measure lives by days, but we should measure it by love.


By that measure, Jessie lived a good long life

Hobo Hudson at Twilight

Hobo Hudson opened his eyes.  He was tucked in his bed under several warm comforters.  He smiled when he saw his devoted wife Lily nervously sitting in a bedside chair.  Hobo held out his paw, and Lily grasped it. “My dear,” he said hoarsely, “I hate to see tears in your lovely eyes, you are so beautiful.”


Hobo’s Mom, having heard his voice, entered the room to check on her beloved boy.  She made sure he had food and water. “Is it time for one of those awful shots?” Hobo asked, referring to the medication he needed every other day.  His Mom patted his head and told him no. He smiled. Before she left Hobo took her paw in his. “You know I love you don’t you Mommy?” he asked.  She kissed him and told him she did. “And tell the old man I love him too,” Hobo said loudly after smelling his dad milling outside his door. His mom assured him she would.  Before she left his mom, put a hand on Lily’s shoulder, and they shared a knowing look.


“Would you like me to read to you?” Lily asked.  She nodded to Hobo’s book, “The Richest Dog in Town.”


“Not now my dear,” he said.  He looked at the book cover. “What an appropriate title.  I am the richest dog in town Years ago I was outside all day tied to a tree when my parents offered to take me from my owner and into their home.  From there I became more loved than any dog could be. I don’t think I could have found more perfect parents.” Hobo nodded off. He awoke as if he had not missed a beat.  “Then I began my business, partnering with my cats and squirrels, and invested in the bone market. I met so many friends on social media, like you,” he said taking LIly’s paw and kissing it.  “I truly am rich.”


Lily patted Hobo’s head and told him to rest but, while his body was failing, Hobo’s mind was still sharp.  He began to get out of bed. ‘I have to check on my brother Wylie. I don’t know if he is ready to take over the business.”


Lily put a paw on his leg to stop him.  “Wylie is fine,” she assured him. Hobo laid back in bed knowing his wife was right, and too tired to get up  “You have trained him well,” Lily assured him. “All your affairs are in order,” she said as her voice broke.


“Now, now Lily, none of that,” he said.  “I have plenty of time left, I assure you.”  Lily knew he was exaggerating, but went along with his falsehood.  Hobo ran a paw along her face. “Lily, of all the things I have done in my life my greatest achievement was marrying you.  I don’t know what you saw in an old broken down mutt like me.”

“Everything my dear, everything,” she assured him, and they sat quietly until Hobo fell asleep again.


He opened his eyes to see the sun setting outside his window.   “I suppose it will be good to see my old friends again: Tommy, Hattie Mae, Smoochy and especially Angel Foley.  Have you read her blogs? She is in desperate need of a good editor.”


Lily smiled.  “Do you remember your birthday is approaching?” she asked.


“How could I forget?” he responded.  “Tax day. The government’s special joke just for me.  I should get up to see if Wylie has everything prepared.”


Lily insisted he stay in bed and Hobo obliged  “Another birthday,” he laughed. “How many is this.  17? 18? Maybe I will be allowed to vote,” he laughed.


Lily grinned through her tears.  “Come, wife,” Hobo said pulling back the covers.  “Snuggle with me. I will keep you warm.” Lily happily climbed into bed and snuggled with her husband,



Hobo’s parents appeared in the doorway as twilight filled the room and Hobo and Lily gently fell asleep breathing in unison.

Pocket Celebraets Opening Garden Day

Finally, on Monday, Opening Garden Day arrived.  Unfortunately so did my chronic colitis which meant I skipped breakfast and gave my parents their weekly worry day. 

 As usual, I ate nothing in the morning, little in the afternoon, then at supper, like your Uncle Phil at a cookout, I took a messy poop then stepped right up,  announced I was starving and wolfed down everything in sight. I know! It takes a lot of patience to be a dog parent.

Even feeling poorly I was excited about Garden Day.  Our stroller was brought out from the shed, and River and I were placed inside it where we could see everything my parents were doing. The temperature was in the mid 40’s and sunny.  My parents dressed in layers then warmed as they worked, removing one garment at a time, like a strange landscaping striptease.

Before my parents began their chores, they stood on the edge of Foley’s garden.  Our stroller was placed next to them. A few members of the high school band played the national anthem.  Our property manager kicked off the season by yelling “Everyone weed!” Then my parents got to work.

Daddy raked the lawn.  This does help make the grass grow, but it is tedious work.  We decided to stay with our Mom. She got the Shop-Vac out and vacuumed the patio.  Maybe your parents don’t vacuum the outside, but Momma finds it easier than sweeping and bagging the debris plus this planet could use a good vacuuming now and then.

We started in Foley’s garden because she would haunt us if we didn’t.  There were already some crocuses poking their heads up to shine in the sun  Mommy was disappointed that the bulbs she planted last year had not bloomed, but if I were a bulb this spring, I would stay underground too.

After Mommy, under our supervision, prepared the garden for spring’s beauty by cleaning all the winter refuse from it we moved to the front one.  We were only able to get half of it cleared when Foley demanded that Mommy stop by sending shooting pains down her spine. Mommy used to think this was a sign of aging but now knows it is her little angel Yorkie demanding she stops.

We sat in the sun together and watched Daddy finish raking the lawn.  Foley didn’t send him any pain. She thinks he can take care of himself.  When we finished, we got a walk around our little neighborhood where we barked at everyone we knew that our lovely gardens would be open soon.


All our readers are welcome to see our gardens when they bloom.  River and I have it all planned out. It is going to be our best garden ever,  As long as we have a couple of day over 50 degrees

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

Hope on dogs.  I have finally conquered the vacuum.  

Monday Question

Have you ever worn anything on your paws?

Neither River or I have worn anything on our paws but Foley did once.  She clomped around like a Clydesdale and then tipped them off her paws 

Rescue is our April 8, 2018 Pup of the Week

A week from Monday will be a special holiday in Massachusetts:  Patriot’s Day which commemorates the first battle of the Revolutionary War.    It is also Marathon Day and the Red Sox play baseball in the morning for no known reason.  I loved Patriot’s Day because my parents didn’t have to work, but the last one I spent in the mortal world was a horrific day.

Two men placed bombs near the marathon finish line killing three people and injuring several more.  For the next three days, until the killers were caught, the fear that the terrorists could strike again, and the sorrow felt for those who lost life and limb, was overbearing.

Jessica Kensky and Patrick Downes, newlyweds, were both severely injured in the attack.  Jessica lost two legs and Patrick one. They faced several operations and a lengthy rehabilitation. They could not work, they did not know how they would live, and as much as their friends and family tried to comfort the couple connecting with them was difficult.

Then they heard the sound of four paws on the floor.  That is when Jessica met her service dog, Rescue. And from that moment things became easier.  Patrick said “I can still go back to that moment and remember the feeling throughout my body as I laughed and saw my wife laugh. I just could not have imagined that sort of day would be possible again after the stretch that we had been through. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the first of many times that Rescue would bring that kind of lightness to our family.”

Rescue brought the couple what they had not had since before the bombing:  Laughter It may not cure everything but laughter certainly helps people get through the hard times.

Now the couple is telling their story in a children’s book called “Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship.” While both the fictional Jessica and the author lost their lower legs, it is never revealed in the book how the injury occurred because the author did not want to make the book about the terrorist attack.

Jessica has gone to classrooms to read the book to the children and honestly answer their questions about her struggle after the bombing.  The best part of her reading is that Rescue is sitting with her while she reads.

The reason she wrote a children’s book was that she noticed when she traveled with Rescue, either wearing prosthetic or not, boys and girls would stare at her.  She wanted the children to know that she was still the person she was before the bombing, but she faces unique challenges, which Rescue helps her overcome.

Jessica, Patrick, and Rescue are currently on a book tour so watch your local listings, and you may be able to greet these three heroes.  

And if you do kiss Rescue for me.

Foley Saves a Street Dog with Smoochy, Leo and Rocky

There are big human cities at Rainbow Bridge.  They are to the west of our newly christened Doggyspace.  Sometimes dogs, who lived their lives on the streets, prefer to go to the city after they cross over the Bridge.  It is a grimy life, but it is what they know. I always wished I could show one homeless dog that life is better at DS.

One day Leo, Smoochy and I were walking through one of the cities when we came upon a meek chihuahua named Cortez.  We told him he should return to Doggyspace with us. “No, I don’t think so,” Cortez said. “I don’t want to live in a house.”  Leo and Smoochy told him about their comfortable lives in homes filled with love, but Cortez said he doubted anyone would love him.  When we pressed him, he ran away. I wanted to go after him, but Leo told me we wouldn’t catch him. Smoochy said he had a better idea.

We went back to DS and talked to Rocky, our brave German Shepard friend.  Smoochy said that Rocky could be a convincing street dog, get close to Cortez and convince him to be adopted by one of the many loving parents who prefer to live at DS.


We took Rocky to the river to get wet him and covered with mud.  Then we walked to the city. Every few miles Rocky would roll around in the dirt until he was filthy.  We left him on the corner where we found Cortez. Leo, Smoochy and I rented a small garden apartment near the corner so Rocky wouldn’t be abandoned if he was in danger. 

 The apartment was dirty, with cockroaches running around (even they go to the Bridge, by the billions). We had to put several blankets on the floor to keep clean. Then we waited for Rocky to do his magic.


It took an hour for Cortez to appear.  He made fast friends with Rocky. They slept together behind a dumpster. They ate whatever food was thrown away. It was quite a change for Rocky who lived a pampered life with a loving family, but he was committed to saving Cortez.  As they sat in the rain Rocky told Cortez about the home he lost, the great food, being warm all the time, sleeping on a bed, and most of all the unconditional love. When Cortez told him that he could never be loved Rocky promised him any mom would take one look at him and adore him.

He convinced Rocky to come to our apartment.  Smoothy, Leo and I toweled both our friends off.  Then we all told stories of our wonderful home and the glory of love.  It took until dawn, but we persuaded him to come back to DS with us

Smoochy ran ahead and talked to one of the DS Moms.  When we got back to DS Leo, Rocky and I lead Cortez to his new home.  He didn’t get a chance to step inside because Sage and Saffron’s Mom Jackie Pool ran out of the house, picked Cortez up as he released a squeal of joy, and ran into her house where Cortez became the newest member of her pack.

A few days later Smoochy, Rocky, Leo and I saw Cortez playing with Sage and Saffron.  He stopped and gave us a thankful smile then went back to chasing Sage and Saffron.

Smoochy, Rocky, Leo and I all lay down in the sun very satisfied with saving a dog.

The job continues, even here at the Bridge.

River's Snowed Out Garden Days Leads to a Special Second Bed

We have been looking forward to the first Monday in April for months.  That is when garden work begins. Some crocuses have already burst through the soil to greet us.  There are many other pretty flowers bubbling under the soil waiting to say hello. It was time for us to clean all the refuse winter dumped on our happy spots and prepare the yard for unprecedented beauty.

I woke up with a big smile on my face.  Daddy picked Pocket and me up and carried us on to the porch.  I couldn’t wait to see what new flowers had peeked through to see me.  I planned to give them all a welcoming sniff. Daddy opened the door.

Everything was covered with three inches of snow!  How long had I slept? Did I miss the entire summer?  Then I saw my brave crocus friends shivering under the snow, just their buds poking through the white and I knew it was still April, but winter would not let us out of its cold grasp.

I was so angry at this terrible snow that I went outside and peed then pooped right on top of it.  The snow didn’t learn its lesson because it came down harder. Huge flakes, the size of Pocket’s ears, landed on my back.  We slunk back inside and shook off the offending snow then had to endure being roughly toweled off.

There was only one thing dogs who had waited all year for garden day only to have it ruined by Mother Nature could do.  We went back to bed

I love second bed.  First bed is great when we all go to sleep as a pack.  But second bed is heaven. That is when we think we are going to start a long boring day, but instead, we get back in the warm bed.  Pocket, after barking excitedly for a minute making sure that no one could go back to sleep slipped under the covers. As long as Pocket has a hand on her, she is content.  

I am more demanding about second bed.  I sit between my parent’s pillows. My Mom scratches my back while Dad rubs my belly like I am a deity.  They are allowed to talk, and even move, as long as I am scratched and rubbed. Since they are lying down and I am sitting up the scratches and rubs are much more satisfying.  I am sure people who watched us go into the bedroom would say we were sleeping together but believe me there was little sleeping and it was much more satisfying. The best part is that no one needed to clean the sheets.

After I was sated, it was time for breakfast.  The snow had already started to melt. By early afternoon when my tummy was full the snow had melted, and I went to visit my brave crocus friends and promises them this was only a momentary delay, and we would surely be outside next week.


Weather permitting.

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

I don't care what Maury says you are not my baby!

Monday Question

Are you a walking dog., a run around the yard dog, or a couch dog?

Pocket and I aren't allowed to run around the yard.  We try to go on walks, for about 20 minutes a day weather permitting..  We do love being couch dogs 

April 1, 2018 Pups of the Week: Linky, Dylan and the Best Birthday Gift Ever

You have to be patient to be a dog, even at Rainbow Bridge.  We have to wait for our parents, and sometimes we have to wait for the right dog.

Linky came to Rainbow Bridge during the Christmas season of 2015.  He is Lily’s big brother. Lily was the face of her pack. She was the one to bark while Linky stayed in the background.  But in their mom’s heart, they were equal, and it broke when Linky crossed the River of Life.

As soon as he arrived Linky was sure what his mother needed was a new male pup to live with his two sisters Lily and Lalia.  For more than two years Linky interviewed replacements, but he could never find the right one. At times he would become discouraged, and we gave him a pep talk.  He got right back to work. No matter how long it took, he swore he would make sure there was a little boy in his mom’s life.

Let me divert by telling you a quick story.  When Daddy married Mommy, she had two daughters and a son.  Daddy found out in a hurry it takes a special kind of male to move into a house with three females. So Linky didn’t just have to find a boy, he had to find a very special boy, and doing that can take more than two years.

Linky came running down a hill last week loudly barking his head off.  “I found him, I finally found him!” he shouted. He showed us a picture of the cutest little Maltese I have ever seen.  “He is perfect,” Linky said. “He is kind and patient, and I know my Mom will love him, and my sister will at least tolerate him.  Now I have to slip into my mommy’s dreams and tell her about him.

The timing could not have been better.  It was his Mom’s birthday. That was the day the little Dylan came into her life, the new man of the house.  We have all wanted to give the perfect birthday gift to our Mom, but Linky was able to do it. A little, fluffy, white ball of love.

Linky may not have had a loud voice on the mortal side of the Bridge, but he does on the immortal side where his bark was loud enough to find a puppy a wonderful home.


Congratulations to  Dylan, you could not have a better home, and congratulations to Linky for the best across the River birthday gift ever.