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Showing posts from November, 2018

Foley and the Sad Christmas Tree

This morning there was a loud knock on my door.  I got up and saw Max and Tupper standing on the landing wearing their winter best. “We are going to get a real live Christmas tree for our house,” Tupper said, excitedly.  “Do you want to come?” Ever since I lost track of a Russian I was charged with burying in the Pine Barrens, I have hated walking in the woods in the winter. But Max and Tupper were a lot of fun, so I agreed to go with them . Tupper, Max, and I walked over the river and through the woods until we came to a vast forest of pine trees.  Max found one that would fit perfectly in their living room. Jasper pulled an ax out of his overcoat and began to swing at the trunk. “Hold it!” a deep voice growled.  Our eyes darted around. “Up here,” the voice said. We looked up and realized the tree was talking.  “Do not chop me down!” it commanded. “ Wow,” Max said.  “Trees can talk.” “You’re damn right we can talk,” the tree said.   “And I am finally going to speak for all t

River Suffers the Horror of Christmas Decorating

After three busy mornings, I was able to sleep late Monday.  When I awoke, I did my business outside, ate breakfast, then expected to take a long nap.  But my busy-body parents had other ideas. My Daddy went into the shed and began to bring out the colossal Tupperware tubs.  I hoped he was just cleaning it out, but those dreams were cruelly crushed when he brought the boxes inside the house, including the long one that looks like a coffin and contains a dead tree. It must be dead.  It doesn’t smell alive.  And it has been chopped into three sections.  My parents dragged the dead tree in the house and, with three quick snaps, they raised it from the dead, although they needed to construct a stand to keep it upright.  I gave it a sniff — no a sign of life. My parents started to put lights on the tree, and then something humiliating happened.  I don’t want to reveal it, but it involved lights and a photo of me that was taken without my consent.  There is talk of this picture being

Wordless Wednesday

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Here's Johnny

Monday Question

Do you put up a Christmas tree?    Is it real or artificial? How big is it? Does it bother you? We do put up a tree.  It is artificial and it is about six feet tall and not very wide because we live in a small house.  We don't pay any attention except we don't like the day it goes up and down but after that, we don't care.  

Jake the Rake is our November 25, 2018 Pup of the Week

Us angels know lots of secrets, even secrets we are not meant to know.  We can slip into our parents’ subconscious where all their secret’s vaults are open.  We know everything about them, even those things that are hidden from others. But we don’t judge our parents.  We unconditionally love them. But, like all beings with a soul, we need to unburden ourselves.  We live in paradise, so we have no worries of our own. What troubles us is our mortal parents' problems, both what they tell us and what we secretly learn.  Often, we have to talk with friends about our parents' secrets. When we slip back into their dreams, we can’t have a single thought about what our friends confided in us, or a secret might be exposed. Sometimes, the secret is that an angel has arrived at the Bridge.  There are instances when a parent does not want their friends to know they have been struck by such an unbearable burden.  The pain is so crippling that even kind words and love from friends are p

Pocket Cannot Stop Winter From Coming

When the garden season ended, I thought that we would have some cold, wet days but I did not think we would have snow. Then Mother Nature went ha! Three nights later I went outside to do my business, and the most terrible thing happened.  I put my paws down and immediately felt two of my least favorite sensations: cold and wet.  I put my nose into the white stuff and felt a sinus freeze down to my paws. It was snow! How did this happen?  It was much too early in the season for such an abomination.  I know many dogs who love snow and God bless them. But their bodies and their private parts are high off the ground.  They don’t know how difficult it is to spit out a few drops of pee and having to concentrate on pooping with your shooter pressed up against the snow.   And humans complain about a cold toilet seat! It wasn’t much snow, but when you have short legs a little is a lot.  The night the storm hit I had to go out for my midnight poop. It was the worst.  I was shivering, and

This Year's New Rainbow Bridge Angels Make Thanksgiving Dinner For Foley, DS and Blogville

Every Thanksgiving us dogs at the Doggyspace section of Rainbow Bridge gather for a feast cooked by the angels who arrived here after last year’s Thanksgiving.  Each year our table gets bigger as we are joined by more angels, but our laughs, love, and stories grow too. Jasper and Sophie walked out of the kitchen and announced that dinner was served.  They said they were both acting as hosts this evening and the would take care of all our needs. Abbie, her face, once covered with white fur, now all spectacularly black, presented us with vegan stuffed mushrooms. Before we began the scrumptious appetizer, she informed us that she had picked all the mushrooms and vegan food from the garden behind her house.  Perfect! Lily, from the Doxie Life blog, served us her fresh autumn salad.  She had been inspired by her friends’ beautiful Friday flower blog.  When she learned about the dinner, she made room in her garden for squash, sweet potato, and quail. Once we had finished, our salad

Wordless Wednesday

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Weeeeeeee!  That was the most awesome slip and slide ever.  Now that I'm here what's my name and where's the food?

Butkus is our November 18, 2018 Pup of the Week

It is ominous when a momma is mentioned in consecutive Pup of the Week blogs.  Last week, I wrote about Achilles, who stared mortality in the face and thankfully, wrestled it to submission.  He was attacked, after he encountered a newly rescued dog off the streets, and suffered two broken legs. This week one of Achilles’ pack members joined me at the Bridge.  Momma Elisa had to free the tormented soul trapped inside her beloved 13-year-old Butkus' failing body so he could be young, happy and immortal in the next life. When a pet parent delves into social media they will usually find one pack member to be their spokesdog. In Momma Elisa's pack, for many years, that was Benjamin.   The small, cute, dark Pomeranian soon became the personification of fun and mischief. His friends appointed him the sheriff of Doggysapce, a job he happily undertook  Often, our stories need an antagonist. For fun little Benji it was Butkus who would much rather rest than play with his high energy b

Foley Shows Old Man Dog How Modern Dogs Live

A few weeks back I wrote about an Old Man Dog who lived on the streets here at Rainbow Bridge.  He crossed over in the early 1970’s, and he never knew what it was like to live inside or eat proper food.  He taught me how to appreciate the life we have and understand the differences between us. Recently I went back to visit Old Man Dog.  I wanted to show him how dogs live today. We used bird bodies to fly back to the mortal side so he could witness dog’s lives in 2018.  The first dog we saw was wearing a new wool coat. “What the hell is that dog wearing?” Old Man Dog asked me.  I told him it was a coat bought at PetSmart. “Why does he need a coat?   We were born with a warm coat attached to our skin. Who needs a second one?” “But they are warm and snuggly!” I countered. “Snuggly!” Old Man Dog harumphed.  “We are dogs; we don’t need snuggly.  We need an open heat grate to sleep on at night.”  He further studied the dog. “Good God! What is the on his feet?” I told him they w

River and the Last Garden Day of the Year

On Monday we had our final yard day of the season.  It is always a solemn occasion. Summer Mondays are filled with new plants either put in the ground or springing from it, bright, high green grass, which, after it is cut tickles the inside of our noses; and hot sun, beating down on our buggy as Pocket and I bark orders from inside. There were no new plants, growth, nor angels disguised as butterflies zig-zagging in front of us. The sun was behind dark clouds blocking its warmth.  Pocket and I stayed close together relying on our proximity for warmth as we watched our parents. Mommy dug up the autumn flowers she had planted two months before.  They were still pretty, but could not withstand one more below freezing night.  They were put in biodegradable bags and then the trash where they will go to the landfill and perhaps, will become soil for new flowers in the future. Daddy pulled out the solar lights that went around our gardens and up our driveway.  They were a great aid sh

Wordless Wednesday

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Why can't I get this damn thing down?  I swear, nothing works at this place.  I am getting too old for this.

Monday Question

How do you act when you meet strange people or dogs?\ Pocket:  Sadly, not well.  We were not the most socialized dogs as puppies.  We tend got bark a lot at either people or dogs.  We want attention from people and don't want dogs taking attention from us.  We are not aggressive at all and wouldn't hurt a fly but we kind of embarrass our parents with our barking and behavior.  

A Recovering Achilles is our November 11, 2018 Pup of the Week

Sometimes your pet mom rescues a dog from the streets, the pup takes to you right away, and you become best friends. Sometimes it is apparent from the moment you are introduced that the two of you are not compatible. And sometimes things go very wrong. Momma Elisa is a Level One dog rescuer as recognized by the Rainbow Bridge Rescued Dogs Association.  She would put her own life in danger to rescue a pup. But she would never put one of her own babies at risk.  Unfortunately, that was the consequence of her latest rescue . Momma Elisa, like many of our moms, cannot bear to see an unloved, malnourished, homeless pup.  She has a type of OCD when it comes to dogs. Like someone who has to move the salt and pepper shakers when they are misaligned or change the toilet paper when it is hanging incorrectly when Momma Elis sees a homeless dog, she cannot resist the urge to bring it the love and comfort of a family. She had frequently seen one such pup at a park near her house. She knew t

Dear Aunt Foley: Parent's Edition

Dear Aunt Foley:  We recently got a four-month-old Havanese puppy from a pet store which is very scared of people, especially my husband. She barks at him and pulls away when anyone on the street stops to pet her. How can I help her become comfortable with new people and situations? - Hanover Hannah. Dear Hanover Hannah: Lose the husband.  Your dog is signaling that this guy cannot be trusted.  And what are you encountering strange people on the street for?  If you are walking down the street without a dog and a stranger approaches you requesting intimate stroking you call a cop.  Why is it different from a dog? Dear Aunt Foley:  My puppy has "accidents" in the same spot in my house. What can I do to prevent her from using the tile hallway as her personal Port-O-Let? - Bill from Billerica. Dear Bill:  Is your dog having accidents or is your toilet in the wrong spot?  If he is going to the bathroom in the same place every day then doesn’t that make that spot the bathro

Pocket and the Lopper

It was ‘round midnight October 30.  In a few minutes, Halloween would commence.  Daddy took me for my midnight poop. Where we live is always quiet at night.  We are surrounded by the elderly who are fast asleep hours before our late night sojourn.  It is rare to see a soul. We were a hundred feet from our home.  We had just passed the crossroads when we heard the most terrible grunting and snorting.  Was it some wild animal? We have seen deer and turkeys running in the moonlight. But this sound could only be made by a wild boar or a mad human. Daddy turned and looked down the western crossroad.   He saw a figure, slowly moving forward, grunting and snorting, moving his hands in front of him, parting the air, like he was doing the butterfly stroke.  He was certainly not a resident, and who would be walking in our neighborhood at night when all the residents were asleep? Could it be the lopper? “Don’t say anything,” Daddy said to me. “Woof, woof, woof, woof,” I said.  Sorry, in

Wordless Wednesday

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Oh my God, I think I am getting another Mommy

Monday Question

How much does the time change bother you? Pocket:  Our parents are lucky because we love being in bed.  We don't wake them up.  But we do start looking for our supper earlier and I had an upset stomach on Monday.  I don't handle change well.

November 4 2018 Pups of the Week: Trip and Lily

Thankfully, we have had a quiet week here at the Bridge.  My blogger friends let me know a buddy of theirs, Dennis the Vizsla, had crossed.  We had never barked at one another but have common friends, so I made sure Dennis was brought to the village that borders Doggyspace, Blogville, so he could meet all the friends that preceded him to the Bridge and learn how to visit his parents and try to ease their pain. Once Dennis was settled I searched for dogs to be named Pup of the Week who should be recognized for their bravery, perseverance, and most importantly, love. First is Trip.  This poor baby spent nine years in dog prison forced to breed to make puppies for his “owner” to sell.  I know there are hundreds of frat boys who heard this story and said “locked up and forced to have sex, score!” but dogs are not made for such a life, and hopefully no one is driving the frat boys to vote Tuesday, although it probably won’t matter, because they would just write in “me” on every line and

Judge Foley Has an Order: Vote

On Wednesday my parents put Pocket in her crate, and left River, standing on her back legs, looking out the window, as they departed in their tiny white car.  My sisters were puzzled about their destination, but I knew, they were going to early voting. Dogs don’t get to vote.  We are allowed to run for office, because of a quirk in the regulations.  Pocket ran the for the Massachusetts open Senate seat in 2000, and did surprisingly well, until she withdrew from the race, against my advice, after she pooped on the floor during a debate, certainly not the worst debate performance this century, but enough to shame Pocket. It is a shame that dogs are not allowed to vote because only we, at least the nonworking ones, have a schedule flexible enough to study all sides of the issues and reach a reasoned decision.  Unfortunately, we are also the Lord’s most loyal creatures, and, when we enter the voting station, if our parents told us to vote a certain way, we would do it, even if it wen

River and the Invading Halloween Caravan

When our home was built, by the original owners, before I was born, it did not We have an enclosed porch.  That was added later, to the side of the house, where the main door is. This directs the flow of traffic to the steps, which are by our big kitchen window, so I can see anyone who attempts to enter our home. When my parents are out of the house, and I am anxious about their whereabouts, I jump on to the dinner table so I can see the entire driveway, and get down to bark when they arrive and my torture ends.  Please, don’t tell my parents I do this. They would be very upset if they knew I got on the table. I don’t know why. They walk over the spot on the floor where I eat, why do they care if I walk over the spot they eat?   I could not get up on the table Wednesday night, because my parents were home, but I wish I could.  I needed the vantage point. During my walk earlier in the day I had sniffed out a report of a caravan, mostly children, all dressed in costumes, some