The Ruby Rose and the Big Little Angels 3 Blog

  "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

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 h

 

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

  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.

  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 supermark

  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.

  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

 

  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 h

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 bi

  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 stre

  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 enjo

    Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton has 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

 

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

  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 Cor

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 t

  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

  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