Friday, October 5, 2018

Foley Travels Back to the 50's to Find She Was Born at the Right Time

Despite humans’ assumptions that dogs watch TV, we ignore the annoying blather coming from the television.  When our parents find us staring at the screen they believe we are paying attention. Actually, we are trying to decipher what about the talking picture box so occupies our parents’ time.

There was one show that caught my fancy.  I was enraptured by the time-traveling adventures chronicled on Doctor Who.  I would love to time travel. Even after I crossed the Bridge, it was a secret fantasy of mine.

Yesterday morning I awoke to a whoorp, whoorp sound.  I opened my eyes to see a blue police box at the end of my bed.  I crawled from under the covers and saw that the blue box’s door was ajar.  I trotted to the edge and opened the door to see a vast room.
The blue box was the Tardis, the time machine the Doctor uses to travel.  I walked inside the room, impressed that the machine truly was bigger on the inside.  I yelled for the Doctor and the companions he travels with, but no one answered. Curious, I climbed on top of the Tardis’ controls and saw I could set any time to travel back and forward.

I did not want to go to the future; it’s mysteries will reveal themselves in time.  But I was intrigued about going to the past.

I programmed the controls for 1952.  The whoorping sounds began again and I felt the machine flying quickly through time worms. Then it stopped. I opened the doors and saw I was in a pristine park located at the center of Anytime USA.

There were dogs sniffing along a fence.  I ran to them “Hello,” I announced. “My name is Foley Monster, and I am from the future.”

One of the dogs, a dirty german shepherd turned to look at me.  “From the future?” he asked skeptically. “Why are dogs so small in the future?”

“We are not all small,” I said.  “I am a toy breed. A Yorkshire Terrier.’

The dogs laughed at the name.  “There is no way a toy breed can survive,” another dog said.

“I survive quite well,” I countered.  

“How do you eat?” a yellow lab inquired.

“Mommy pours my kibble from the bag.  She puts it on my plate, and I eat it.”

“Puts kibble on your plate?” the shepherd said stunned.  “We might get some table scraps after supper but anything else we eat we have to catch.  The other dogs agreed with him.

“How about when you go in the house?  Don’t they feed you then?”

“Go in the house?” the german shepherd was stunned.  “I have never stepped inside the house, that is where the humans live.”

“Where do you sleep?” I asked flabbergasted.

“Outside, in my doghouse, with wood chips on the bottom to keep me warm.”
That sounded horrific.  I asked the other dogs if they were allowed in the house.  They said they weren’t. “In the rain, the snow, the cold?”  I asked. No was all they said. This was horrible. I told them how I lived inside and only went outside to poop, pee and get walks.  “What’s a walk?” the retriever asked.

I could not leave these poor dogs in this prehistoric world. I told them I would take them back to the future with me.  “Oh no,” they all said, “we can’t leave our people,” I asked them how they could be so loyal? They have been left outside, not given quality food, not bathed (although I did not mention that because I did not want to insult them), how could they stay?

“They are our humans,” the shepherd said.  I understood. If I had lived as they did, I would still love my parents.  I would have been killed by an angry raccoon in my sleep, but I still would have stayed.  “It is good to know our grandchildren will have better lives,” the retriever said. 

“And since none of us are fixed we are going to have lots of grandchildren,” the shepherd said smiling.

I guess there were some good things about the 50’s.

I hurried home and gave thanks that I was born in 2001 when the world was more civilized and dogs were better appreciated, but I think we are all born when we should be born.

I went back to bed, and by morning the Tardis was gone which I was fine with since my time traveling days were done.  I rolled over in my bed and gave thanks I never slept outside near a mad raccoon, and never would.


  1. Our mom grew up in the 1950s too but her Chihuahua always slept on her bed. She spoiled dogs even then.

  2. Well, that was a scary trip to the past. If it is any consolation to Foley, Mom says her dogs always lived inside their home and got table scraps AND yummy kibble!!!
    Woos - Lightning, Misty, and Timber

  3. That does sound like a bit of a scary trip but the music might have been good.

  4. Even today I know middle-aged folks who are still trying to get their own parents to not treat their dogs like that. And we are still fighting against puppy mills and dog fighting rings. I am grateful for each small step along the way that improves the lives of "our best friends."

  5. oh my! WE are glad we did not live back then
    Hazel & Mabel

  6. Oh Foley, what an adventure!! Those poor, ignorant dogs!! I know it was true for a LOT of dogs, even those in my mommy's past! Thank goodness you don't have to worry about mad raccoons!!!

  7. What an adventure to see the olden days! Our mom told us that dogs didn't have such a good standard of living as they do now so we are glad we were born the right time too!

  8. Mommy's first few dogs were not allowed in the house unless it was really bad weather outside.


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