The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

I went to the vet last week for my yearly exam and shots.  I was my usual brave, trembling self. Everything was going swimmingly until she insisted on looking in my mouth.  I did my best to keep my little jaws clenched. But the vet forced them open, a clear violation of the Dog Vet Act of 1972, and announced that once again I would have to get my teeth cleaned — what a bother. Then they began to discuss my experiencing bad poopies a few times a month. How embarrassing!  I don't talk about their poopies, and believe me; I could tell you stories that would curl your tail. The vet gave my parents a sample bag of the ridiculously expensive Hill's prescription food for sick tummies. Mommy read the ingredients.  Corn corn corn corn spam corn and corn. Mommy told me I wouldn't be having any of that. The vet also told my parents about a prescription food called Calm that is supposed to quell anxiety in dogs.  Who the hell makes the stuff Doctor Cosby? Another hard no. They

"Wait, stop, I don't have my face on!"

How often do you get a bath?  Do you get a bath because your parents think you smell?  What products do you use?  Where do you get bathed?  Do you go to the groomer? Our answer:   We used to get baths once a week but Mommy has pushed them back to every two weeks.  Mommy thinks we smell when we haven't had a bath.  Daddy doesn't smell it.  That's the thing about parents.  We use Espree Oatmeal shampoo and another conditioner. We don't know why we have a conditioner but we do.  Mommy says it makes our hair smell better.  We go to the groomers every six weeks.  We get bathed in the tub.

When I agreed to leave the love and comfort of my family to accept the position of judge at Rainbow Bridge I had to leave a lovely home where I was well cared for, my meals were exquisitely prepared, and where no dog could be more loved.  I understood why the Big Guy wanted to hire me as a judge. In my career as the world's most renown dog lawyer, I had established a reputation for fairness and even minded decisions. If the Big Guy wanted me he needed to negotiate. I told him if I was going to give up my house and leave my parents brokenhearted I demanded the ability to inform all parents that after their babies crossed the Bridge they were okay, they were loved, and would be taken care of until that day came when they would be reunited with their parents.   “Absolutely not,”`the Big Guy balked.  “Communication between the immortal and mortal worlds is forbidden.”   I told him that was fine with me. I would stay with my mother until I was 22 years old, trailing a little oxyge

We have a lot of gods at the Bridge. There is the Big Guy.  He's in charge. But there are a lot of other souls who say the god they worship is the one true God. To see the Big Guy you have to climb to the top of the highest mountain where he contemplates his creation from above the clouds.  You can walk right up to a lesser god. One day I became a god.  I didn’t mean to, all I wanted was a good pretzel.  To get the delicious ones you have to go to the Norse land.  I got sidetracked on my route and ended up wandering into a valley surrounded by mountains. There was a big stone hammer blocking my way.   I put my little teeth on it and moved the hammer out of the way.  “She lifted the hammer,” a woman, who had been walking her yak, yelled. “Hail the true Thor!”  I turned around searching for the new deity. There were a dozen peasants gathered around me. “We must adore her for she is the one true Lord,” an elder exclaimed.  Oh boy. I tried to tell them that this wasn't

Everyone is familiar with the Westminster dog show where dogs are judged by the standards placed upon them by humans.   There are other events that same weekend.  These were created by and judged by, dogs themselves.  This is an event where we don't have to please humans and meet their expectations.  The only opinion that matters are the dogs. The competitions include toy destuffing, chair leg chewing, counter surfing, tissue shredding, toilet water licking, marathon barking, and many more. My specialty is baking.  It is something I have to hide from my parents.  Some dogs pace nervously, bark loudly or destroy the house when their parents are away.  I jump on the counter, turn on the stove, and create. I have to manage my time carefully.  Humans get upset when they come home and find you shredded the newspaper.  But when they see a bacon souffle cooking, there's real trouble . I started my baking career slowly, a batch of oatmeal cookies, watermelon squares, turke

“L ife was a little like that, I guess. We’d spend so long chasing after something already in motion, always out of reach and calling, just ahead.” 

Where do you live?  Tell us something interesting about your city. Pocket:   We live in Taunton MA.  It is a small city with a big river running through it that leads to Newport Sound.  A 100 years ago Taunton was a huge manufacturing town specializing in silver.  Now the river is polluted and so full of debris any boat bigger than a rowboat will crash.  When she was a girl Mommy lived on the river and saw a big boat pass by her house then hit a covered trestle and sink.  The people climbed on top of the trestles until they were rescued.

Rainbow Bridge can be like a retail store during the holidays.  There are weeks when there is not much activity. Then over a few days, we get inundated with new angels.  In two weeks we welcomed Gordo, Petey, and Marshmallow. There was a fourth dog who crossed too, one who I have not been able to recognize yet, but must do so now.  Fudge is one of my good friends from Blogville, and this is his story. Fudge was the leader of a large pack of Portuguese Water dogs, a beautiful and playful breed.  Their mom had many pups, but Fudge was her best friend. Fudge moved in with his forever family to mate with a female dog, Simba.  Their union would produce nine fantastic dogs for their mom to love. Fudge got a family and created one at the same time.  But Fudge was more than just a lover. He was an athlete too.  He performed in rallies and won a ribbon.  But most of all he was mama’s easy going, funny dog. He never complained, even when he was made to dress up.  He helped raise his pup

I hadn't intended on going to the Rainbow Bridge Valentine's Day Dance, but at the last moment, I decided it could be fun.  Of course, I would need something to wear. I popped over to Hattie Mae's dress shop hoping she could whip something up for me. When I arrived I thought that Hatties super cute shop had been hit by a small tornado. There was material everywhere. Then I saw her something moving under pink chiffon in the middle of the room.  Hattie appeared. Her left hand grasped a piece of fabric and in the right was scissors. “Thank God, it's you, Foley, I have been swamped all morning.  Why does everyone wait until the last minute to get their Valentine’s dress and expect me to create it magically?”. My hopes of getting a dress dissipated . “It's unconscionable,” I said feigning shock. “These girls should know better.”. Hattie harrumphed.   “It's not just the girls.  Boys can't make up their mind who they want to take to the dance until the nigh

Early February delivered a respite from the cold and wet winter.  Temperature sneaked into the 60s. My parents broke out the leashes.  They had decided to take us for a proper walk, not just a few steps on the cold tar until we poop and then we are hurried back inside. The best part about getting a walk after weeks of being stuck inside is catching up on the pee-mail. These missives from my neighbors have been piling up on the grass throughout the site. It was time to respond. . I didn't get my first bit of new mail until I went around the corner.  Near a rock Lea, a poodle who lives behind my house wrote that her parents had made her wear booties outside.  She had been clomping around the area like a Clydesdale ever since. She asked if any of us have been subjugated to wearing the dreaded booty.  I peed that thankfully I hadn't. Foley did once, but a chilling look from her to my parents put a stop to that experiment. I recommended for Lea to practice ferocious looks in t

Bye bye, little goldfish.  You will be much happier in the ocean than in a bowl.  Look a big fish has come to swim with you.  Ooops!  Bye bye, little goldfish.

How do you act when your parents return home? Pocket: I am in my crate.  I bark, and when I am let out I run around their feet sniffing them. River Song:  I wait by the kitchen window.  When I see their car pull into the driveway I put my head back and howl. Then I go to the front door and jump up and down.  When they get inside I need to be touched.  Then I pant for half an hour because I am so excited.

Humans rarely make a harder decision than when they send their beloved dog to the Bridge. When our parents see us they feel joy and contentment in their hearts. It is an addictive sensation. When we are gone their body craves that feeling. The withdrawal is devastating. Our parents wish to see us just one more time and feel that joy and contentment again. There is little that can be done to ease a parent's suffering. Sometimes a strong belief that the pup is somewhere beyond their parent’s comprehension, and that there will be a parent and child reunion in the future, helps. So does the knowledge that the new angel has a loved one waiting on them. When two dogs are playing one plus one equals three.  This being is created when two loving souls are together.  There is me, you and us. No one can see or touch this third being.   When one partner leaves, the mourners cry for two, one for the departed, and one for the couple that has now been halved. Enter Marshmallow, Aunt Jodi

In 2013 I passed from the mortal world leaving behind a broken-hearted family.  The presumed cause was lung cancer, but that was merely a cover. I had accepted a judgeship at District Four of Rainbow Bridge. At first, I refused the offer.  But then the leader of the Immortal World, the Big Guy, said he would allow me to communicate about life in the Immortal World. No had been offered this before.  I hated leaving my parents and my friends, but I had a greater calling. In the beginning, every soul was immortal, which is why the Bible had so many characters who were 1,000 years old.  When the world got too crowded the Big Guy, our ruling deity, carved a body of water, called the River of Life through the land creating two sides, one mortal where life begins and species live until their heartbeats expire, and the immortal side, where all creatures inevitably go, an ever-expanding, quiet, simpler land, where they watch over and await, their loved ones. Everyone has a soul.  It is lo

Before I was even a spark in my parents’ eyes Pocket was eating bland Blue Buffalo Basics dog food. When she was a pup, she was diagnosed with irritable bowel.  Mommy asked her internet friends for help in finding a food and Aunt Jody recommended the Blue Basics which was the first food Pocket ate that didn’t offend her delicate stomach on a nightly basis. I don't know why Foley didn't raise a fuss about being stuck eating one food for the rest of our life.  Apparently, she wasn't interested in kibble, preferring the demanded table scrap whenever she was hungry. When I was the new pup on the block, I got my very own bag of food. Then that brat Pocket ate some and got sick.  Instead of punishing the stinker my good food was banished from the house, and I had to eat the same crap Pocket did so she didn't get sick. My food and I were innocent, but we were made to suffer. Sure I got bacon treats, chicken, turkey, and pumpkin but I felt jealousy when I saw how many

My mom thought she could go hiking without me!  Surprise

Is there a common household item that scares you? Pocket:  I don't like anything that beeps. River:  I don't like the Swiffer.  Once it is the ground it moves rapidly.  And mommy is addicted to the thing. I have a beard.  When I get it wet it drips on the floor.  I can be sure in seconds the swifter is going to be chasing me.  

More than twenty years ago at the puppy making plant, located a month’s journey from Doggyspace Villiage, there was a momentary breakdown, causing one creation to receive more heartbeats than the others. When this pup was born no one recognized that he came into the world with something extra. He seemed like a normal dog.  When his momma selected him to live with her, she knew the sweet little pup would love her, but she had no way of knowing for how long. She named him Petey, unaware that before his heartbeats would expire 21 years hence his name would be known in thousands of households. Petey joined the online site Doggyspace before I did. He was one of the pups, along with Hattie Mae and Tommy Tunes who taught us how to express the joy and frustrations that the simplicity of everyday dogs’ lives brings. I confessed when I created my own online persona I looked to them and followed their paw prints in the sand to help establish my identity. I am certain I am not alone. Pete

When dogs are together most of their lives, and they love one another fiercely, their relationship begins to resemble that of an old married couple. Never has this been truer than with Chase and Gucci, two Poms who crossed late last year, first Gucci, then Chase, from a broken heart caused by his brother's absence.  Chase and Gucci lived with Momma Sherry, to make a perfect trio, which was briefly reduced to a duo until they became one: The loneliest number. Chase and Gucci have been as equally inseparable at the Bridge as they were in the mortal world.  One day they would be happily playing in one of the Bridge's many overgrown tickless fields. The next day they would be enjoying a sunny day at the park, with one laying their head on the other. The next they would be getting ice cream at Otie Campbells or treats at Hannah Bananas.  Sometimes they laughed sweetly, sometimes they spoke softly, and sometimes they bickered. Mostly, they argued about how to take care of thei