Ranger's Party

 

"Geordie, check the balloons; Lily, make sure the cake is frosted. Tiara, have everyone gather in a group; Max, get ready to play your trumpet  because Ranger is coming."

Ranger's angel friends had promised his mom they would give him a hero's reception when he arrived at the Bridge. Tommy was at the grill cooking steaks; the Golden Girls were planning a dance in celebration; AJ readied the silent fireworks that would hail Ranger's arrival.

Most important was Tango because he had the stopwatch, which contained all of the memories Ranger had lost in his final few months.

His mom began to notice the signs of dementia in Ranger earlier this year and hoped the progress of the disease would be slow. Still, the illness took away Ranger's mind like a rat eating a large pizza, slowly and methodically. Like all such diseases, it seemed to advance slowly than all at once,

The memories dementia sufferers lose go to the Bridge and are kept by their primary angel. The memories are uploaded to the closed pocket watch automatically and are only released when the soul who created them arrives, then the watch is opened, and full memory is reinstalled.

River's job as bailiff is to greet dogs when they first crawl out of the River of Life; I suggested that Tango give her the pocket watch, but Tango refused. The angel said they would go with River. It was highly inappropriate, but sometimes judges need to set a precedent, and I did so Tango could go with River.

They walked down to the water to wait. Ranger would be confused upon emerging but will notice all his pain and illness have gone, and he will feel whole again.

It was important to time the opening of the watch exactly when Ranger emerged because he wouldn't recognize his family and friends and may flee in fright in danger of wandering the River bank between the two worlds.

My faith in Tango was rewarded when the pup opened the watch at the exact moment, and Ranger's memories hit him like two waves, one that studied his boat and the second containing the knowledge that he had left his mom almost capsizing him. He hoped he could still tell his mom he loved her before he departed.  

That is why we had planned this spectacular party, so Ranger would not dwell on his passing. River and Tango hurried him up Enzo's escalator, and I quickly gave him the Angel Oath. Tommy slapped a steak in front of him, Tashi served him a pie, Hobo gave Ranger his first bone beer, Lily showed him the four-layered cake taller than her, Max served him a side of fresh squirrel, and Geordie appointed himself head waiter,  We all did our best to keep sorrow at bay,

Sadly we have gotten good at it.

Tango and Ranger joined their mom's other dogs when the party concluded. They are rebuilding her broken heart. Hurricane Ian can't do the structural damage that is accomplished by the departure of a beloved dog,

It will be an arduous task since the amount of pain a survivor feels equals the amount of love they share, which means it is enormous.

But, the pack of Wild Ones has done it before, and now that Ranger is with them, with a mind full of memories, I know he can do it again.

Poetry Thursday

Welcome to poetry Thursday hosted by our friends Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton Here is our inspiration followed by our poem 

Puff, the hurting dragon, had a toothache.

And went to a fro looking for someone with a dental degree

Little Jackie paper loved dentistry

And brought him drills and floss wax and other  oral stuff, oh.

Puff, the hurting dragon, had a toothache.

But no dentist would see him because he was fourteen foot three

Puff, the magic dragon, let out a cry

He needed someone to pull his tooth, and no dental coverage had he

They met one another at a museum, and Puff let out a wail

Jackie said he could help Puff, and he would not fail

ff. He had a bag with dental tools; when he went out, it always came.

Puff put his head down, and Jackie wiggled a tooth, causing Puff to cry loudly.

Puff, the hurting dragon, had a toothache.

But no dentist would see him because he was fourteen foot three

Puff, the magic dragon, let out a cry

He needed someone to pull his tooth, and no dental coverage had he

A dragon lives forever, but toothaches can be stopped

And Jackie used all his tools including a fourteen-foot rope

\Jackie pulled out the tooth, and it hurt no more

And Puff the Mighty Dragon, he ceased his painful roar

Puff thanked Jackie and wagged his scaly tail

Knocking two Volvos parked in from of the hail

Without his troublesome tooth, Puff could be brave

And he opened his treasure chest hidden in his cave

He paid for Jackie’s dental degree, and he went to Yale

And now Jackie is a dragon dentist for dragons with scaly tails.

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Harriet, how could you, and with my brother no less?

Monday Question

 

Saturday night our dad was in bed reading. The lights were out and he was reading on his phone, which was set to dark mode so it was very dark. He felt a paw on his hand, the nails sticking into his palm, and the pads. He thought I wanted something so he turned on the light on the phone and I was snuggled deep under the covers. He wonders which angel came to visit him.

 

Do your parents have a ghost story.

The Ruby Rose Report: September 25, 2022

 

My parents did not mind the little bird pecking on our window glass. To them, it was just a thing that happened. But even at a young age, I knew better. The bird was pecking with a purpose.

 

I went to the window and inquired what the bird wanted. “My name is Clarence Sparrow, fowl attorney, and I represent the birds who live in the fern trees in your yard. Last night one of our group was eating on the grass when your cat viciously attacked and killed it.”

 

I was very sorry to learn of the bird’s demise, but I explained that I was the only pet in the household and wouldn’t hurt one, especially since I seldom go out.

 

“It’s that darn cat who lives under your steps,” Sparrow accused.

 

River warned me about Ugly Joan, our southern border. But I had not smelled tail or butt of her.

 

Sparrow continued: “We demand the immediate removal of the cat, also fresh bird feed every day and not the cheap supermarket stuff that we spit out and causes weeds to grow under the feeder. The same thing happens in our bellies. 

 

“If you do not agree to our demands, we will not let your angel siblings borrow bird bodies to visit the mortal side, and we will fly into the windows, causing a loud smack leaving a blood and feather stain.”

 

This bird was serious.

 

I took a nap and summoned Foley. She said she would meet with our downstairs tenant and the birds. I listened from the kitchen grate. That is when I learned that ugly Jona had moved to mousier pastures, and her son Cantankerous Chris was now living under our stars.

 

He lived up to his name. 

 

First, he mistook Sparrow for lunch and tried to swipe the bird into his mouth. 

 

Then he refused to stop eating the birds. I had to stop listening when mommy called me to sit with her. 

 

The negotiations went on for hours. That night Foley visited me and reported that they had settled. The Angels could still use the bird buddies as long as Chris let out a warning meow before attacking,

 

“But what about the birds smashing into the window if we don’t serve the best food?” I asked and was told by Foley those were mortal problems.

 

It took several persuasive dream visits by Pocket, who was on my side because tiny dogs must stay together to get my parents to buy the expensive bird food.

 

I barked at my parents whenever the feeder got low so we were not feather bombed. But one morning, a rogue squirrel raided the stash, and the feeder was bare.

 

The birds had loaded a fat Robin into a slingshot and were preparing to fire it at our living room window. I begged them to stop and said they couldn’t hurt the little bird. They told me birds never die; they graduate into new bodies.

 

So why were they so upset at Cantankerous Chris if the eaten got a new body?

 

I needed more time to ask when the birds began firing their volunteers and unwanted eggs at the windows, creating a defining bang and an unholy mess. 

 

That darn cat had got us into a war with Angry Birds, and now we were under attack. 

 

It is going to be up to me to keep the peace.

 

Thank God I am Ruby Rose, the baby boss. 

 

I hope the birds respect my authority. 

 

Friendly Fill-ins

My good firneds Ellen of 15andmeowing and Lorianne of Four-Legged Furballs, provide Friendly Fill-in questions.

This is the first time that me, Ruby Rose, has answered the questions. Wish me luck. My answers are in bold.

Here are this weeks questions:
1. Pee pads should come with instructions..
2. And just like that the stuffie I had been chewing on exploded and spread fully across the room

 3. I get funny looks from others when I do this

 

 
4. I once tried to be good an entire day and I failed.

Poetry Thursday

 

It is Thursday and Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have sent us another picture to inspire my muse. Here is my offering

As Lin left to go to work

His wife Maya called him a jerk

He had forgotten that the day before; he did say

That today was take your son to work day

Little Key and his dad were dressed the same way

Both were wearing a mawash

Lin, too like Key to the dohyo

And told him to sit no matter how much he wanted to go

While his dad prepared for his match

Key found reason to from his seat detach

And ran into the center of the dohyo to fight

Big Yokozuna, with all his might

The kind-hearted combat went down like a rock

And the little boy went into shock

As Key was declared the champ

And was carried to the locker room via the ramp

Where Lin thanked Yokozuna kindly 

And the big man said resignedly

That the favor could be returned today

And Key turned to see Yoko’s little angel

A girl with a right hand like a barbell

And the fight would not be two out of three falls

Because the girl always won with a whack in the balls

Wordless Wednesday

 

Sophie Comes to Rainbow Bridge

 

The Nazario Gang has a mansion by the river with a private beach they share with everyone. They were rewarded for their pack size and for being good pets. This week the Gang, including my friends Magoo, Maggie, Mikey, Miguelito, Greta, Willow, Tramp., Capone, Rascal, Benji, and many of their pre-social networks predecessors, marched from the mansion, en masse, to Hobo’s Landing.   Their mortal sister Sophie had signaled that she was joining them.

The caravan of dogs marched together like the Queen’s guard, and as they did, other angels, some of them friends, others following their instincts, joined the group, and soon there was a parade of dogs that lasted more than a mile wide and 100 miles long.

Sophie came into the pack 17 years ago as a stray. Her cute and feisty personality fit in perfectly with the large and boisterous pack. She passed in her sleep, choosing not to have to put her parents through choosing to send their child to the next world, something Sophie has watched them do too many times.

She followed the tracks laid down by her siblings, going to the nearest body of water, floating in it until she reached the River of Life, being carried by the currents to the Bridge, where she crawled out of the water. River Song awaited her to help with the transition, which was not needed. Sophie was prepared for this day; her angels had ensured it.

While passing over was something the Nazarios were overly familiar with, despite the number of pets their parents have lost, each one brings its unique pain and dredges up the buried pain of past losses. The more times you travel, the road of grief doesn’t make it easier; the path you follow turns to mud, making each trip through it more arduous. But Mama Christine will have one other angel walking with her easing her heart.

Before Sophie could help her mom, she reunited with her pack, some she knew on the mortal side and others in only dreams, but they were now part of a heavenly family, and they yipped, jumped, hugged, and licked another rejoicing in the reunion.

There was a sizeable welcoming dinner, and all of Sophie’s online friends introduced themselves. Once we were done, the Nazarios regrouped and, well-fueled, marched back to their mansion, where they would start rebuilding their mom’s shattered heart again.

Hopefully, being experienced in heart rebuilding will aid this large pack in their sworn duty.

On Talk Like a Pirate Day Angel River Song Tries and Fails

Today is talk like a pirate day. While I am too dignified to speak in that particular vernacular, I did have occasion to do so when I was tasked with moving the golden bone, originally chewed on by the first dog, down the river. Evil minions had regained their angel form and had promised to purloin the artifact.

We set sail, and before the sunset over our bow, a pirate boat arose on our port side. We were able to repel their advance. Unable to secure cannon balls because angels supposedly don't need weapons, we fired my collection of watermelons, which put their Captain, McDaniels, in retreat after one of our projectiles exploded on the stern, sending a seed into the skipper's one good eye. I ordered my mates to "make all sail," and we sped away like a waterbug on a birdbath.

We had been at sea several days and were getting hungry when a flock of chickens appeared across our bow, and while I smelled a trap, my crew did not listen and set sail towards birds, who had been fired from McDaniels ship, and put holes in our side. I was appalled; retaliating from a mere watermelon attack with chickens certainly raised the stakes.

We had to take refuge at an island, and it was there that McDaniels caught us and demanded the treasure: "Ahoy, vast maties, give us the royal bones, or we shall skewer you."

I needed to show these pirates that I could talk like them: "Well, old chap, I must say, your demands are beyond the pale."

"Psst," Private Pocket signaled me. "That isn't pirate; that's British."

I nodded and continued: "Well, Blarney, aren't you a lucky little leprechaun."

Pocket shook her head. "That's Irish," she whispered.

Well, this was getting to be a challenging piece of mutton. "So, you boys need to get outta here, or we'll whack you, capisce?"

"That's New York Italian," Pocket informed me.

I held up my paw and asked McDaniels and his men to give me one second. I took my English to the pirate dictionary and began reading it when the impatient marauder slapped my hand.

"Si, senor, por favor," I said, apparently, once again, getting it wrong.

"We should run them through," one of the pirates said, and I was sure we had met our end, at least in their bodies, which was one of my favorites. It was my pirate body with special padding in the booty.

"Isn't that your ship?" Pocket asked.

During our interrogation, Captain Foley, who had been following us in her vessel, had raided the pirate ship and was now floating away with the treasure stranding the pirates and seemingly us.

But Pocket and I had one more weapon to fire. We pooped, spun round, and back kicked our droppings sending the pirates running. Foley had sent a row boot manned by two of our crew to shore, and we could jump in and be taken to Foley's ship; then, we brought the royal bone to its new home.

Back in our house, I was so inspired by the pirates and their talk that I decided to speak as they did at bedtime. "Night, night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."

Well, I've got a year to work on it.

The Ruby Rose Report September 18, 2022

 

This week, I had a close encounter with a recliner that tried to eat me.

 

I know you're saying that couldn't happen, but believe me, it did and profoundly impacted my life. I shall never fully trust furniture again.

There are three recliners in our living room. One belongs to my Mom and me, one to my Dad and me, and one to me. It is where I go to chew my bones and play with my toys. I had no idea it was alive and hungry for a puppy.

 

The incident began with me innocently sitting on the recliner chewing a bone when I stretched my back legs and felt something plastic on my paw. As soon as I hit it, the angry chair began to vibrate as if I had awoken a horrible beast.

 

I jumped down in fear of my life. The beast vibrated, letting out an awful yawp as the footrest rose, ready to snap up whatever was on the seat cushion. While mourning my seemingly lost bone, I looked at my parents, and all the fools did was laugh. Were they in on it too? Was the fabric stretched across the chair created by Audrey III, the Little Shop of Horrors plant? Did they fatten me up to feed their chair? I barked at my parents to do something, then saw a loose kibble under the leg lift. "Hold everything," I said, then ran under the chair and ate the kibble. I may have been scared and scarred, but kibble was kibble. After I ate it, I motioned for everyone to carry on with the death-defying drama.

 

Finally, my Dad took action by walking towards the beast, picking up what looked like a remote control and first pressing a button which caused the chair to lower its foot jaw and then stopped it vibrating. He patted me and told me I was a funny dog. I was highly insulted, but thankfully, he had laughed so long he got the hiccups for an hour,  which was sweet revenge.

 

I stood at the chair for a minute. It seemed to have settled, and I am not a dog who gets who gives into fear, so I jumped back up on the chair and went back on it to enjoy my bone.

 

But I will never forget that this chair tried to eat me, and I will be on God for the vibrating and leg lifting to start again.

 

Personally, I just unplug that thing,

 

But no one listens to the Griffon.

 

Even a baby boss like me.

The Dog, the Squirrel, the Mom and the Mountain

 

Dogs don’t climb mountains; we are more intelligent than that. But dogs are also reactive. And that is how a dog named Blue climbed Everest.

He lived in Nepal, in the shadow of the great mountain, when he saw a squirrel in his garden. The little pest had been laying waste to the flowers that Blue’s mom had struggled to make bloom, and Blue had sworn revenge.

Blue was sitting on his deck, with a fence surrounding it, so he could not escape, which he usually wouldn’t have done until this became a song of revenge.

Blue recognized the squirrel and gave chase. The tiny rodent climbed to the top of the fence and ran off; Blue surprised himself by jumping over it. His horrified mother, who doted on her special boy, saw Blue jump the wall, called his name, and ran outside in time to see him running down the road. She got in her car and followed.

The squirrel could have run up a tree and escaped, but after seeing Blue clear the fence, he feared the dog would follow him and enjoy a mid-branch squirrel munch.

But there was one place no dog would go, and it was less than a half mile away: Everest! The squirrel had lost pursuers there before.

But, Blue was determined, and when he reached the mountain base and saw the squirrel climb, he was not deterred and followed, as did his frantic mom.

The squirrel could not believe the dog wouldn’t stop, so he reached down into his gut and found needed reserve, as did Blue and his trailing mom.

They passed other climbers and their base camps until the trio realized they had nearly scaled the mountain. They sat next to each other. The pursuit had ended; now, they needed to survive.

The mother picked up the squirrel and put it in her too-thin jacket so at least it would be warm. She called Blue to follow, but he was looking at the peak and smiling. Then he took off running to the top. His mother called for him and then followed.

She didn’t stop until she saw Blue looking back at her, and she understood. She put the squirrel on the ground, and the three of them summited at the same time and rejoiced,  The mom took a selfie with China in the background, and then the happy trio walked down the mountain holding hands and paws.

Now they are back home. The squirrel lives happily in the garden, where he is welcome, and Blue had promised never to jump the fence again or climb a mountain.  

To make sure his mother had installed a ten-foot fence.

Poetry Thursday

 

 Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetatonhas provided us with another picture to inspire prose. This is our modest entry.

      

Sitting at the end did not fill Lee with glee

Because he had to announce he needed to pee

"Did I just hear a pee  plea?  asked Ducky

"It is Lee, at the end," answered Muggee, drinking tea

The boss Bugsbee knew them all moving was no something he could see

So he suggested to Lee he whip it out and take a mighty pee

Lee said if he stood he could not guarantee

He could balnce on the thin beam like a bumble bee

And how happy he would be

If everyone moved so he could pee

And he would not be the last in his family tree

"Sorry Lee," said Bugsbee, "but the thought of all of us moving will gives me an autoplasty

And if you force us you will be the first construction worker who is a double amputee"

It was clear for Lee to see

If he was going to pee

He had to foresee

Standing on the beam like a desperate escaping parolee

He took it out of his dungarees

Carefully standing like a water flea

And from up high Lee remit a stream of wee wee

When a breeze came from the sea

And his wee

Completely covered Busbee, Mugsee, Ducky, and all others except the furthest three

Lee could not help celebrating like it was jubilee

Until Bugsbee told him "You are only getting off this beam by stepping over me."

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Just wondering how much longer you are going to be because I really need to use the litter box..

The Old Lady and the Dog

 

It started as a rumor. An old lady was seen approaching our village from the Bridge. It was strange for someone to pass over at our crossing, especially without Foley’s knowledge or anyone to greet them. She was still wearing the body of her death, old, wrinkled, hunched, world-weary. Her steps reflected that as she shuffled slowly up a green hill where a wooden bench was located. She sat down and reached into the bag she had clutched as she sped down the River of Life to this destination. She opened the bag, pulled out dog biscuits, and softly whistled.

At first, no dogs answered the call because it was specific, meant for a pack of dogs the old lady had been a mother to. Then I heard the sound of paws pounding on the ground, and a pack of Corgis, with their tails wagging, ran towards the sound. They let out a yelp of joy when they saw the older woman, ran to her, jumped on her, and smothered her with one million kisses.

Curious, Foley, Pocket, and I followed the Corgis and found them on top of the older woman, licking and yipping. When they parted, she was gone, replaced by an earlier version of herself, just out of her teenage years, and she began playing with dozens of dogs.

One of the Corgis got the zooms and began running in circles around the group. When she stopped, I asked who the woman was, and the Corgi answered, “My momma!” That was evident.

The woman stood, turned to us, and smiled. “It’s the Queen,” Foley said.

“She doesn’t look like Hattie Mae,” Pocket said, confused.

“No, it is the Queen of England. I heard she passed but can’t believe she is here.”

We discussed her appearance, and I said there was only one way to find out. Despite the breach in protocols, I approached the Queen.

I excused myself, told her I knew who she was, and it was an honor to meet her, and even tried a little curtsy, but it made me look like I was squatting to pee. I asked her why she had come to the land of dogs when so many people were waiting for her on the human side.

She told me that for 96 years, she had served men, and she had promised, that when she crossed over, it would just be her and the dogs, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the people.

I told her I understood and inquired about Prince Phillip, and she told me she would see him soon enough, but after half a century of marriage, they deserved a break, and as long as he had his bottle of sherry, he would be fine.

I returned to my sisters, told them what I had learned, and suggested we leave her to her dogs.

She had earned it.

The Ruby Rose Report September 11, 2022

Saturday I got to go with my parents again when they ran errands. I sat in my carrier and watched them carry out their uninspiring business. Then they stopped at Petsmart, and I was let out of my safe space and brought into the store. This made me nervous. I have been in my home for two months, and I’m thrilled, but like all rehomed dogs, I worry that where I am now is just a waystation. I fear that I will be rehomed, which I would not like.

Daddy held onto me most of the time except when I went into grooming and was placed on a table where I got a lot of scratches and no groom. Everyone was happy to see me but not as glad as I was to get safely back in my crate and then, a short while later, home.

I was pleased to be back in the confines of our house. After setting the table, Mommy finally sat down, and I snuggled next to her for what I hoped would be a long snooze. Then Mommy told me we had to guests. Jeepers Crow, all I wanna do is nap, and there are strange people walking in like they owned the place.t

Daddy picked me up we went to the threshold, and I was introduced to mommy‘s brother and his wife. They tried to bribe me with a squeaky toy. But I didn’t trust these people. They sat at the kitchen table and talked, and I took refuge under an end table around the corner and occasionally peeked out to watch the strangers. My Dad broke up some treats and threw them at me, trying to lure me out, but I was safe where I was and only occasionally stuck my head out. Then the pizza came.

`    I must have some Sicilian ancestry because when a person shares a pizza with another person, I think they become entirely trustworthy. Plus, I get handed kibbles while my humans eat their dinner. All trepidation was gone when I smelled food and began to eat. Also, these people are all 10 or 11 in dog years, meaning they drop a lot of food on the floor. I began to like having guests.

They spent too long in the kitchen. I wanted to sit in the warm recliner with Mommy, but I waited patiently. When we sat down, I snuggled up next to her. But I couldn’t get a good snuggle going because I had to pee on the pad, and I didn’t want to do it with an audience. No one wants to visit a house where one of the members whips it out and pees on the floor. I was beginning to like these people, so I held it in until they went home.

Then I put my front paws on the pad and peed. Mommy had to clean up my spillage. I must remember it’s just not good enough to get in the bathroom and pee; you’ve got to do it in the right spot. It’s a good thing mommy is used to Daddy’s dribbling and missing like a nervous college walk-on at basketball tryouts.

Then I got my treat stuffed Kong, which I was worried I wouldn’t because of the guests. Once I finished that off I snuggled with mommy a bit before bed. Usually, I pick out some bones for bed and chew them for an hour or so before crawling under the covers, but I barely had 15 minutes of chewing before I m fell asleep.

I decided I liked having guests, but boy is it tiring and tough on the bladder.

Scooter Arrives At Rainbow Bridge

 

It was my little sister Ruby, barely with my parents for two months, who summoned up the lives of so many friends, as being  DDS (During Doggyspace) and ADS (After Doggyspace) when our friends were scattered like someone hit them with a ball pean hammer and spread them to the four corners of Facebook.

Every dog's social networking experience began in some such group; it doesn't matter which one; they are all gone now, as are most of the original members. This week we lost another one.

At 16 years old, Scooter George crossed the Bridge this week, an age in doggy years that far outpassed the Queen and who was just as beloved by those who knew him.

Like Englishmen and women who never knew a life without their Queen, I have not known social networking without the irrepressible Scooter George. While our contact waned as we went from being big fish in a small sea of Doggyspace to being small fish in the big ocean of Facebook, I always kept an eye on him.

I believe Scooter was the last surviving member of the gathering known as Farm Fest at our friend Koda's farm in Illinois, where dozens of dogs who only knew one another on the Internet got to play together. Scooter frightened his mom when he became momentarily lost on the extensive property, but he was quickly found. He had many more years with his mom.

River Song greeted Scooter when he crossed. Having lived a long life and the effects of aging have weighed heavily on him, he did not need convincing to cross. He knew his parting from his mom would be temporary, and he had left a part of himself in his mom's heart. It feels like pain, but soon it will blossom, and her mom will always feel his love in her heart.

Every friend Scooter made IRL and social networking had traveled to Hobo's Landing to witness the swearing process. When the brief ceremony concluded, there were cheers, and then his mom's pack members, who proceeded him to the Bridge, hugged and kissed him, which turned to sniffs, bites, and clawing as a playful scrum began.  

When he finished dinner celebrated his arrival and continued until the sun was high in the sky. Hundreds of angels gave toasts in Scooter's honor. The newest angel smiled broadly while his tail wagged for hours.

With the clock showing well past midnight, Scooter knew his mom would be asleep, so he, one at a time, took his friends to visit his mom in her dreams. He happily showed her off to his friends as she had done him. He knew his mom would not remember the visit, but her self conscious would be happy and relaxed, easing the burden on her sorrow.  

The next day Scooter began to search the land just as he did at Farm Fest, curious to see what happened next.

The mortal side lost something big when Scooter passed, but I can wait to see what this mighty new angel can accomplish.

Poetry Thursday

 

Our wonderful cat friends  and muses Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have sent us this picture to inspire a poem. Here is our meger offering

I built a house that looked like a shoe

It was creative, odd, and brand new

I found a spot of land where the shoe would fit

And am very happy to admit

That it was positioned perfectly

And could say with much certainly

That I had the best house in the land

But then I began to understand

The folly in my plan

Because in the house I smelled something and ran

Outside where my house did sit

Right in a pile of stinking shit

So on its side I tipped the shoe

And with a stick of bamboo

I began to scrape off the shit

Using elbow grease and spit