The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

Thank God the government shutdown has concluded. I can rest easier knowing the government agencies I rely upon are in place again. I can safely eat knowing the people who inspect my crappy kibble and beloved treats are back at work. Every morning during the shutdown I questioned what crap was in my crappy kibble. It caused tummy unrest. Additionally, I sometimes snack on stray River stools which meant I was eating crap produced by unregulated crap. This shutdown was complicated. The weather has been crazy since government regulation ended. In the space of three days we had rain, then snow, then ice, then temperatures in the 50s and then back to cold. I don't know how we survived without government controlled weather. When I stopped by the vets for a simple rabies shot, there were lines like you have never seen. Usually, when I am just getting a shot, I am in and out of the vets in five minutes. This time I had to wait a half hour next to a shivering chihuahua. That littl

Hi Dad. I brought some friends home with me I found at the park. I hope you have enough kibble.

Do your parents have a special name for you when they get angry with you? Pocket:  My parents add a Dog to my name.  Pocket Dog! they say, but the annunciate it.  "Pawwwkittt Dawg!" River:  They usually only call me River but if they are mad they call me River Song and if they are really mad it is Miss River Song.  

Like our humans, we dogs are guilty of checking out Facebook when we should be working. I like to see dogs and their parents doing mundane activities:  A walk, a car trip, snuggle time. It reminds me of better days when my humans and I undertook similar endeavors. One of my favorite profiles is as on Momma Teresa’s and Gordo’s page. No matter what they did together, even if it was sitting around the house, they did so happily.  The pictures were proof of the joy the duo felt just being together. One day last week Momma Teresita awoke planning to have another fun-filled day with her heart dog. She found that Gordo was breathing heavily and his stomach and legs were swollen. She took him to the vet who said Gordo was suffering from congestive heart failure. There were treatments, but it was doubtful Gordo would improve. HIs mom asked him if he wanted to go to the Bridge and he put his head on her knee. Momma Teresita knew their song together was ending. Like a giant mapl

I was sleeping in bed when I was awoken by the sounds of a hard rain falling on my roof and a soft scratching coming from the window screen. I rightly figured the rain was caused by the passing of a well-loved pup. I wondered what dog could have prompted such an outpouring of tears. The scratching remained a mystery that could only be solved by me sitting up in bed and yelling “Who Dat?” “Foley Monster,” a voice squeaked, “I had to come to the Bridge incognito because I was afraid my notoriety would cause a stampede of angels to greet me. If you could please administer my oath and help me, I would be very appreciative.” Great, just what I needed, another little dog with delusions of grandeur. I opened the front door and let the little guy inside. I could barely see his face because his long hair was soaked. I gave him a towel and a hairdryer and let him fix himself up. He was finished drying, and his hair was poofed up I recognized him. “I know you,”  I said. “You’re Boo the

I had a dream that became a memory  I was in Winterfell, home of the Stark family in “Game of Thrones.”  I was lying next to one of the dire-wolves who is sworn to protect his humans. “Winter is coming,” he said menacingly. I asked him what his winters were like. “The undead rise and walk amongst us. They tear down the wall separating our lands. They fly across the sky riding undead dragons that breathe ice. They will not rest until we are all dead, and our newly reanimated corpses are fighting for them.” He let the horror settle over us before he asked how my winter was. “It is cold.  My paws get wet when I go out. I even shiver.” The dire wolf contemplated me for several minutes.  “You win,” he said while putting a paw on my shoulder. The night before my dream we had our first winter storm of the season. It had been cold, windy and snowing all day. Before he took me out Daddy put on his sweater, his jacket, and his hat. He leashed me and we walked on to the enclosed porch. W

I have been negligent in not posting any Ask Aunt Foley blog recently. I know you have many questions about the dog world and about human behavior. I have contracted my wise and dear mountain dog friend Uncle Enzo to succeed me in answering your questions. Please do me the largest of favors and check out Uncle Enzo's blog  here

Get outta the way, Mommy! We're running off together. We are in love and no one can tell us its wrong.

Are you a collared dog, a harnessed dog, do you go bareback? Please describe your collar, or your harness and your leash. Pocket: I have a red harness with a cloth under the neck that had a red sky with stars and planets.  We have two leashes. One is a purple Kong leash that is six feet long and has a second handle near the bottom and another leash that matches River's harness. River: My harness (that matches one of our leashes) is pink, green and white and has flowers on it. It is getting kind of worn. I think I need a new one. 

Some dogs take a long time to adjust to life at Rainbow Bridge. Others adapt to its mysteries like they were childish riddles. I met such a dog this week. Many dogs assume I know every new angel before I give the Angel Oath.  The truth is I often encounter pups for the first time while administering the Pledge.  This week I greeted Lady, a lovely little dog strongly devoted to her mom, Patrica Elliot Nie Towriss. Lady had battled renal failure with every her heartbeat but the illness, as it often does, waiting for Lady’s allotted heartbeats to expire then forced Momma Patricia to make the hardest decision.  She took away all of Lady's pain by taking it on herself so that Lady could be young and pain-free at the Bridge. I watched as Lady slowly crossed the Bridge. All the pain her mortal coil held was swept away with each step. By the time she reached the stairs, she was running. When I met her at the top all her physical pain was gone. Lady impatiently listened as I recited

I, Foley Monster,  am here to answer human questions about dog behavior. I will give you what science believes is the cause of our peculiar traits, and then the real reason we do it. Dear human, you are about to become a more knowledgeable pet parent. Why does my dog eat grass? What they say: Dogs often ear grass if they have an upset stomach. Real reason: Human, I see you, on your cross country trek, tired and hungry, stopping at some Family Buffet-style restaurant. The food is lumpy, stringy, cold and gross but you don't care. It is there, and you're going to eat it. The same is true of dogs and grass. Many dogs are in a perpetual state of hunger and exhaustion.  Grass is nature's smorgasbord. Sure it has been stepped on, spent too much time in the sun and is covered in fecal matter but so are the offerings at the Family Buffet. We are hungry; it's there, we're eating it. It might make us vomit, but less regularly than eating at the Family Buffet will make hum

Every night I am forced to go to bed with a big bed bully. I am referring to my sister, River Song. Don't let her size fool you. She is a warthog in the sack. She bulls around the bed like an offensive lineman lumbering after a fumble. How can anyone get sleep with her is beyond me? We both get placed in the bed before my parents get in. Once they are settled, Papa pays us back for all the good we accomplished that day by giving us scratches and rubs for up to a half hour. When I am sated, I lay down by Momma's waist.  River sits up getting her belly rubbed until she passes out where she stands. My sleep position is under the covers next to Momma. River can lay wherever she likes as long as it is not my spot.  If she does, when Momma shuts out her light and lies down I have to go across Papa's legs, get to his side of the bed and rely on Papa's assistance to get to my snuggle spot under the covers.  If I go directly past River, she snaps at me. Bedtime can be stres

I'm all set.  Zip up and don't forget to let me out when we get across the border

Do you snore? Pocket:  Not at all.  I am a delicate sleeper. River Song:  I can wake up people in the next county

Once Max had a home. He had a warm and dry place to sleep.  He had food at scheduled times. He had a family. But lions came roaring in the night, ripping apart all that Max had.  His family moved. Max was left behind with nothing but his name. Max had choices, but they were all bad. He could sit on his former lawn patiently awaiting the parents who would never return. He could curl into a ball surrendering himself to the lions. He could wait to be carted off to the pound with a future of loneliness until he received the final needle.  Or he could fight to survive. He chose the latter. Max quickly adapted to being a street dog. He knew he had to be quick, courageous and cunning.  He combined this with what he had learned from his abandonment, never to trust a human again. There was one human, Momma Gail, who had vowed to protect Max.  She knew his parents were abandoning him and hoped to take him before they left. Regardless, his parents absconded without notice.  Momma Gail beg

It is the summer of 2009. Foley Monster has been suspended from Doggyspace for publishing a letter written by the Princess, who ruled over the kingdom of Doggyspace.  The poorly written missive proved to many that the Princess was not fit to rule and a new, secure site was needed. As we open Foley is meeting with her trusted advisors Hobo Hudson, Hattie Mae, Ashton and Lily to decide if they should rise up against the Princess and start their own website emphasizing the Freedom to Bark. Act One, Scene One:  Foley is at the dog part with her friends Hobo, Hattie Mae, Ashton and Lily Foley: I am not throwing away my bark I am not throwing away my bark Hey, you, I’m a scrappy little dog, Yearning to freely write my blog And I’m not throwing away my bark I’m locked out of Doggyspace left in the cold I was just protecting a sick friend, sorry if I'm bold I put friendship ahead of the rules Those who don't make me want to fight duels With every word, I tell the truth Do

It was New Year's night. After a tumultuous holiday season, my parents settled down at the dinner table for a relaxing meal.  I was in the chair to my Mama's left, laying across it, with my head on her lap, hoping chicken was on the menu and I would be offered a piece or seven. Pocket was in the living room, playing hard to get, at least when it comes to food. Halfway through the meal, her resolve melts, and she begs for a taste. Suddenly, as if from the depths of the earth, came a blood curdling, "meow.” I jumped from the chair forsaking the chicken, put my nose to the floor and began sniffing. Pocket charged in from the living room barking "man the battle stations, hoist the flag, raise the periscope, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead.  We have cats!” We met under the table. We could organize a methodical grate by grate sniff search of the house until we pinpointed where under the floors the cats were, then scare them into leaving.  Or we could run around

It looks like a bone, but it don't smell like a bone or taste like a bone.  What sort of trickery is this?

How do you let your parents know that you love them? Pocket:  At any sign of my parents getting upset I put my paws on them, their legs if they are standing, their lap if they are sitting and look at them letting them know it will be okay. River Song:   I never let them out of my site.  My constant presence is a sign of my love.

This week I planned to write about the passing of my old DS friend Peco Dee’s mom Mary.  The news of her passing spread among her Facebook friends at the end of December. There were dozens, perhaps even hundreds of comments left on the page Peco shared with his mom Mary and on the Facebook group Dog Euphoria that Peco had administered since Doggyspace folded. Mary was very private.  Few knew how old she was or what she looked like. They did know that Mary had been ill. There was a post in March about her falling and breaking a hip. A couple of weeks later Peco announced his mom was okay. Astute observers of Peco’s page and his Dog Euphoria profile realized something was off. The voice they had known as Peco’s was different by just a tad. And occasionally there would be pictures of Peco pensively looking off into the distance while underneath the caption read “Thinking of someone I miss in heaven.” After hearing of Peco’s mom's passing one parent, in a quest to get more informat

New Year’s is a time of hope, but it is also a reminder of the cruelty and uncaring nature of certain humans.  A couple, and a veterinarian, in Valparaiso Indiana, have personified both sides of the scale. My parents told me, when I was particularly persnickety, about the dogs who did not sleep inside, had to lick frozen water bowls in the winter, and didn’t eat healthy kibble, so I would realize, and appreciate how privileged I was. But, they never mentioned, and maybe could not comprehend, people so heartless that they would send a dog to the Bridge prematurely because of a human lifestyle change, or change of heart. This is what happened to Sam, a pointer, and Cosmo a lab mix, from northern Indiana.  First, their life was turned upside down when their parents got divorced. The dad got custody of the duo.  He met a new woman who was allergic to dogs, then opted for a “convenience euthanasia,” and brought these two perfect souls to the vet to be put down because they no longer

The New Year arrived quietly at my house, as it always does.  My parents are far beyond the days of celebrating the New Year. We lie in the big bed together, and when the clock strikes twelve, my parents discuss what fresh hell 2019 will present.  My parents do know; whatever it may be, they will handle it together. My parents have this same dread every year, and for the most part, it is unfounded.  Whether that will be the case this year, I do not know, but I am vowing to not contribute to any tension that may be waiting. I resolve in 2019 to make sure I pee on the pad. Being in the same room as the pad, or a neighboring room is no longer good enough.  I must have all four paws on the pad, not just the front two leaving the back end off as my pee splashes on the floor, puddles under the pad and spreads like a stubborn rash.  I also vow to fully empty my bladder when I go outside and not cut short my urination time so I can get back inside, get my treat, then trot over to the pad

Don't interrupt me.  You're going to be neutered whether you like it or not.