Foley Tells the Truth About Halloween

 

Have you ever wondered where the trick-or-treaters who come to your home seemingly from nowhere originate? Well, be sure to be good to them because sprinkled in the group may be some angels.

Halloween is a day the dead walk amongst the living. It sounds a lot more frightening than it is. The dead don't want to hurt anyone; we want to visit the mortal life we once knew.

The caveat is that we cannot use the body we had when mortal, which leads to a lot of body-swapping. Once done, we change into a child's body, and if we want to see a loved one, we go trick or Treating. Little does a mortal who opens the door realize; the little masked creatures awaiting treats are their angels. 

\        
Trick or Treating is going out of fashion, as parents don't trust strangers to give their children candy, and adults find hordes of children begging for food to be a bother. Our chances of visiting our parents in disguise are lessening, but we are still in the shadows, watching our houses and families through shining, inviting windows.

I wish it was easier to pay our families a Halloween visit. The obstacles start with us being lucky enough to borrow a body and then our parents being willing to give out candy to urchins in the hope we would arrive. Sometimes, our parents pass out hundreds of dollars of treats in the unfulfilled hope we will be there; other times, we find a body, get dressed, and see the porch light is out.

Occasionally, it all comes together.

Last year I dressed like a wizard, wearing a mask. Pocket was a princess, Copper a lamb, Jax a power ranger, Skye a headless horseman, and Blake an Ewok. We came to the front door, pressed the bell, and our Daddy came out and gave us candy. Then we looked in the kitchen window and saw our beautiful mom. We waved, she waved back, and then our time was up. We walked on the clouds all the way back to the Bridge. We gave the humans our candy, went home, and went to bed with big smiles. We immediately began planning for next year.

We will stay in our dog form and dress like a giant dinosaur, with one of us on top of the other.

I hope the light is on and the candy is fresh so we can say hi to you before slipping back into the darkness.

Ruby Rose Report for October 30, 2022: Turkeys and Reflections

 

Before I arrived at my true and forever home, River visited me and explained that unlike my previous residence, where there were two dozen watchdogs, I would be on my own. Being small doesn't mean I can't protect my house like an angry Great Dane. She said that intruders are more worried about being attacked by a dog than we are about them. All that was required was a mighty bark, which would make the trespassers think the house was being protected by a rabid Wolverine and flee. Like a poker player with short stack-facing pocket aces, a little dog's life is a perpetual bluff.

River told me the best location to scout for trespassers was the kitchen window by the door. It looks out on the driveway and street. River was much more of a social dog than I was. When River saw humans, she barked at them to come in and play with her. Our tiny shotgun shack is inhabited enough, and we don't need any more people, so I bark to make them disappear.

There is one creature who has me very concerned. I usually only see it in the window at night when the kitchen light is on, but occasionally I catch glimpses of it in the framed glass around the house. I must say it's quite the good-looking being with a bit of head, pointy ears, red fur, a brown muzzle, and a pink collar. As soon as I see it standing on the outside steps looking into the house, I bark at it, and like some creature from the movie Them, it mimics me. When I bark, it barks. When I get down, it gets down. When I pop back up, it does the same. Mommy tells me not to bark at it. She says it's just my reflection. I am trying to understand what that means. I would look it up, but who has time for all the barking?

This week during daylight, when "reflection" can't be seen, probably because he's a damn vampire, I caught an intruder I had never witnessed before. It had wings like a bird with a long, thin neck, a little head, beady eyes, and a sharp beak. I almost passed out from barking at it. My mommy said it's just a turkey. It looks like a dinosaur to me. I must back wildly and ferociously to scare it off. If I don't, I am afraid, like a meek husband, I would be pecked to death.

If I can't chase it away, I may have to team up with Reflection. Sometimes I think we share one tiny mind.

Moo Comes to Town (by Foley Monster)

Collectively, they are known as the boys. Elvis, Huckleberry, and Moo. They came into a pack living on a farm and increased their energy level by 1000%. The rambunctious boys will always be puppies, so I was stunned to see Moo's name on a list of incoming Angels.

River escorted Moo up Enzo's escalator and to Hobo's Landing, where I would administer the angel oath. He looked like I remembered him as a puppy, with love and excitement in his eyes. After I had done my duty and before his welcoming Celebration, I asked him how a dog so young could come to the Bridge. When he told me his departing age, I was stunned, and I had missed his entire adulthood.

Years don't mean a thing when living in an immortal world. Five minutes and five years seem the same amount of time. Still, I felt terrible about losing touch with them. Truthfully they didn't need me. The boys had Josie and Koda, two of the most loving angels of all, and where they went, so did Smoochy, their sibling from different humans was sure to follow.

They waited for me to be done with Moo, and then he trotted over to his siblings, who gave him a big hug, as did another dear friend Lily. Then Hattie Mae appeared and said she had longed to provide Moo with a makeover because he was too much farm boy for her liking. The look on Moo's face was priceless. Thankfully  his siblings told him they wouldn't change a thing about him and ignored Hatte when she said: "Maybe the drooling."

Moo wasn't offended; he was born a good-natured dog and will continue to be that way for eternity. The welcoming party was held at the barn, with hundreds of angels welcoming him. Moo ate quickly and then ran around with his friends, feeling like a puppy again. The only distraction was when he thought the cows were calling his appellation.

Moo's mom has always been very close to Koda and Josie, even as angels, so after a simple suggestion from the angelic duo, she could see them all playing together frantically, if only in her dreams.

Huckleberry and Elvis will labor to make up for all the mischief lost with Moo's departure. Still, they know their antics make their mom smile, which is difficult when grief comes to town, so they will try and be aided by their mom's strong angels, who will deliver her from the darkness, as they have time and time again.

And the immortal world will be much more fun now that Moo has come to town.

 

Thankful Thursday

 This is the first time I have taken part in  Brian’s Thankful Thursday Blog Hop.

I should have done so before, because I am thankful for everything.

Four months ago I was a well cared for girl, but had to share my parents with a dozen other dogs. 

 

Today I am the only dog of only parents. I a mixture of yummy food, I get to go almost everywhere with my parents, I am never along for long, they play with me when I want to play, leave me alone when I don't and don't make me go outside. I sleep snuggled with them all night, and sit with them all day.

I am thankful for all of you friends too.

I am thankful for everything, and looking forward to giving my thanks in the years to come because I know I will love everything about it.

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

SADLY, NADIA HAD TO PAY A PENALTY FOR PICKING A GOAT BEFORE IT WAS RIPE

Foley Presents Great Foleys in History

 

One of the advantages of being at the Bridge is I can visit with the Foleys who came before me and helped make me a perfect dog.

 

Many Foleys lived quiet lives, but a few left as much of a mark as I did. 

 

One of the most memorable Foleys was from Edinburgh. She was the sole companion of the town doctor. Her Dad would go into the hospital each morning, and Foley would follow and wait for her Dad to come out.

 

One day inside the hospital, while Foley waited, his Dad had a massive heart attack and crossed over. His coworkers realized that Foley was still waiting outside. They tried to move her, but she bit and snapped at them. She was adamant she was going to wait for her Dad.  

 

When the Doctor began to cross the Bridge to the immortal world, he caught a glimpse of Foley waiting for him at the hospital reflected in the water. He realized she would stay forever. It was the least he could do to join her. He turned away from the Bridge and went to the hospital to be with Foley,

 

Foley was so happy to see her Dad that it didn’t register that he was a ghost. He thought about taking her home, but the landlord would lease it to someone else, and she would have no human to care for her. He knew his coworkers took delight in seeing Foley and would feed her, but he also knew the stubborn dog wouldn’t go home with anyone but him.

 

He was right. Foley got fed, brushed, scratched, and patted on her head. But she would not leave her Dad, who was sitting on the bench nearby, invisible to all except her.

 

Occasionally Foley‘s Dad tried to get her to move, but he had trouble going with her because the more he used his ghost power, the more energy he lost; finally, he told her they would leave when she was ready.

 

So that is where they stayed for 12 years. Waiting outside a hospital gave Foley the best medical care, and people would visit her with food and snacks as her legend grew. No matter what the weather, Foley never left that spot.

 

Finally, the day when Foley was ready arrived, she looked at her Dad, then signaled it was time. Her father knew the way. They went into the river, came up in the river of life, and happily crossed together to great fanfare because theirs was one of the most fabulous dogs and man love stories ever. 

 

The city built a statue of Foley to remember her and her devotion. In the spirit world, the angels erected an invisible-to-the-mortal-eye statue of her Dad, symbolizing their dedication. 

 

They still walk through the fields at the Bridge. Sometimes I see them in the early morning, and they are never apart.

 

She was indeed one of the great Foleys in history.

The Ruby Rose Report October 23, 2022

 

When I go on walks, I am on grass more than a college philosophy student with a shelf full of Ring Dings. It tickles my toes, and now leaves are covering the ground, crunching under my paws, that smell like a Buffalo Bills tailgate party: Autumn, with undertones of pee

    I walked into the front yard, and it was there that I found something that may keep me from going outside ever again.

    Tiny scarecrows had invaded the garden

    They are very frightening creatures with straw legs and arms. They peek from behind the bushes, always watching me. I sniffed them and found they had no common scents, which means they have no souls and are searching for one

    I barked and growled at them, but they were a stoic bunch and did not react. My Dad, who was walking me because Mommy has better sense than to walk around the house like a zombie sensing meat, laughed. The fool! He who laughs at scarecrows wakes up with some straw in their throat and refuses to say how it got there

    I pulled away from them. It is the only time I wish I were a bigger dog. They can drag their parents to safety while I spin my legs like a cartoon character failing to launch

    I went inside to warn my mom, the smart one, about the scarecrows, and when I was done barking, she said I was cute, which is what Mrs. O'Leary told her cow when he tried to warn her about the fire, and the whole damn city burned. My parents should know I am smarter than a cow; no one is allowed to milk me

    A good thing about scarecrows is that they scare off visitors. I don't like people in my house except those who came with it, and I feel the same way about toilets. They are fine, but if you invite more into the home, they start expecting to be treated like water chairs

    I am glad they don't scare the superhero who frequents our parts, Mr. Amazon. His superpower is being able to bring anything you ask for to your house; He might be trying to overcompensate for something since he always delivers things in the biggest possible box, no matter the item's size.

    I heard my parents say the scarecrows would be gone after Halloween when they turned into little children and would leave if the owners bribed them with treats

    I hope they aren't my treats. I have to pee on a small pad to get them, which takes training and concentration much more than hiding in the garden behind a bush.

    I will be happy when they are gone, but I am worried about the next threat. In Florida, they told me of the scary snowmen that come out in cold, wet weather.

I may not come out until April

Friday Friendly Fill-Ins

 

 

Each Thursday Ellen of 15andmeowing and Lorianne of Four-Legged Furballs, provide Friendly Fill-in questions.

Ellen came up with the first two questions and Lorianne came up with the last two questions.

If you need help, please let either Ellen or Lorianne know.

Here are this weeks questions: Ruby's answers are in bold.

 
1. Every October, I roll around in the crunchy leaves.

2. If I were going to a costume party, I would go as Scatman Crothers.

3.The day the kibble bag ran dry is my favorite scary story.

4. I would shit myself if there were a zombie apocalypse.

 

Poetry Thursday

 

 

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

 

 

Move along, move along, no time to stop and smell

Today I am going to win show and tell

You’re mysterious, you’re strange, you’re unknown

The children will love you even if you’re not fully grown

I have studied everything about you so I am not stumped

You are so fascinating no one will interrupt 

There’s the school hurry up, we must get there before the bell

I have never been so excited about show and tell

Down the hall, we go

I am going to have the best show

In the classroom, stand in front, look alert

And good lord, don’t fart

I am going to talk to the class now

And when we are done, they will clap, and we will bow

Okay, here I go

On with the show. 

Hello, class. Look up here; it's not a toy

For show and tell pigs, I brought you a boy

 

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

 

 

Hawk wasn't a good magician but everyone loved his pull a fish out of my ass trick

Monday Question

 

 

 

Do you enjoy brain games where you have to solve problems for treats?

 

Ruby Rose Answer:  Not me! I just want the food right now, and look up helplessly so someone gets it for me. 

 

River was food at them.

The Ruby Rose Report for October 16, 2022

 

They say all dogs love a walk, well, not all of us, because I don’t like them at all.

 

I hate wearing a harness. Before my Dad drags me outside for a walk, he secures my harness upside down, then takes it off; then, he puts it on with my right leg out, then my left. During each attempt, he says words that would be censored on HBO. By the time he is done, I no longer need to pee.

 

I go down the steps reluctantly, loathing the outside, where my Dad insists on walking longer because he's under the influence of the footwear lobby. I walk to the end of the driveway, turn up the street, and as soon as my house disappears from view, I am on my back legs, trying to return home, where I sleep and play with my toys. Also problematic is that we live in a trailer park, and someone can steal my home while I am on a forced march, and I will never see it or mommy again. It is very concerning. 

 

My angel siblings have encouraged me to enjoy the walk and, while doing so, read and leave pee-mail to learn about other dogs in the neighborhood, but I am from a new generation. We don’t read pee-mail; we text. Also, most of the messages are pedantic, like “mommy bought me a new bone,” which is boring, unlike when Mommy buys me a new bone, which is more exciting than a loose pig in PetSmart on Easter Bunny Day. 

 

If anyone sees us, Daddy, on his two legs, walking forwards, and me walking backward, it looks like we are doing the Targeyan Dance of the Dragons; in reality, it is an epic battle of wills.  Spoiler Alert: I always win, having been born with a Griffon’s infinite patience.  After five minutes of backpedaling, Dad gave up and took me home.

 

But inside my home lived the Judge, called Big Mama, who said I had to walk for a few minutes a day or I would become a beach ball. So, for up to ten minutes a day, my Dad and I continuously walk outside our tiny houses like Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern, stalking the McCallister place on Christmas Eve. I don’t mind; I get to keep an eye on my house while bringing in my steps.

 

And most importantly, I won a battle of wills again. In record time, I will have these folks wrapped around my paw by the New Year.

River Visits the World's Oldest Living Dog

This week, I was there when Pebbles, the world’s oldest dog, crossed the Bridge after 22 years on the mortal side. She was born the same year as Foley. Imagine Foley farting, sleeping all day long, and not being able to hold her pee, so no different. Pebbles was happy to arrive after her long service. It took a long time for all her pain to be washed away by the river, but when Pebbles climbed, she was finally young again and happily living her immortal life.  

This made a chihuahua named TobyKeith, also 22, the oldest living dog. It was a title Toby had held before. When word of his longevity reached the media, Pebbles’ parents surfaced, proving she was older and stripping TobyKeith of his title. The circumstances of Pebble’s passing, having been caused by bad kibble, lead to some suspicion that a jealous Toby had eliminated the competition.  

I decided to investigate and visited Toby as a ghost. When he first saw me, he excitedly asked if I was there to give him the sweet kiss of death. When I said I wasn't he grumbled in disappointment and asked what I wanted. 

I said there was a lot of conjecture about how Pebbles passed over. “I already talked to the coppers,” Toby said. “Pebbles ran her mouth then ate something bad. Accidents happen.”

I asked if he was happy to be back to being the oldest dog: “I always have been the oldest dog. I was far older than Pebbles; it wasn’t even close. Suddenly they found boxes and boxes of days they had added to Pebbles's age. They call it a dump. I took care of it, and things are back to how they should be.”

I asked how he was feeling now.

“Great,” he said sarcastically, “I get up then stand on the pad for ten minutes,  hoping  I pee. I can barely see,e and my mom keeps moving the couch. I walk right into the fricken thing. And I must drag my legs across the floor because mommy doesn’t wash my wheels, and I leave tracks. Never mind I

I can’t remember where I buried my bones, and my stuffies  are all destuffed.

“Still, I am king, and no one can unseat me. I am the oldest, and this time I will enjoy it.” He licked his paw and looked at me. 

“Who are you? Are you to give me the sweet kiss of death?

That is when I left him. I hope he has a long reign.

And, while I wished I had been with you longer, I am glad I checked out before I was 22.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

 

 

 

She asked how my first day was at Skechers

I said I felt confident having practiced my pitches

How these shoes will make you look like a princess

They’ll get you plenty of kisses

And soon you will have riches

Perfect for someone who cares about superficies

I was selling more than anyone on the premises

Making bank more than my greatest wishes

My humor had them all in stitches

Then I hit some glitches

Waiting on a couple of witches

I tried to find out where there off switch is

And despite all my enriches

I asked myself what my greatest wish is

And walked away from those two bitches.

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

  

 

I shall park in a tow-away zone never more

WHISKEY ARRIVES AT RAINBOW BRIDGE

12 and Chappy had accompanied Ruby to wait for the duos' beloved sister Whiskey, to arrive at the Bridge after more than 15 years of being a devoted companion to her parents.

 

I met the three pups on my first night on social media. They were a delightful trio who befriended me, like everyone, as an equal and family member. I was thrilled when a fourth member, Fuzzy Bacon, joined and heartbroken when his stay with them was too short. Now, Fuzzy stood with me, waiting to be reunited with his sister, and have his pack whole.

 

In every family, some children move on, and one stays to care for his parents: In the Gustavan pack, 12 and Chappy transitioned to the Bridge, and Whiskey stayed with her parents as her sight, hearing, and legs failed while suffering from attacks by the Seizure Monster. Through it all, Whiskey survived to bring comfort to her family.

 

But even a dog who slowly metered out her heartbeats as Whiskey did will someday run out of them; That occurred last week, as the unassuming little dog expired after a typical day of loving her parents, going naturally in her mom’s arms, without a costly trip to the vet. Her parents have to share their grief publicly. It was the best choice for her parents and, therefore, the only one Whiskey knew how to make. 

 

Whiskey lived an exemplary life and deserved a reward when she arrived at the Bridge, which she received as soon as she pulled himself out of the water.  The healing waters washed away all the physical baggage she had accrued during her life: The lost eyesight and hearing were restored;  the pain that had crippled her was gone; the seizures vanquished, but the greatest gift stood before her: 12 and Chappy his beloved siblings.

 

Social media, and angel dogs cleverly discovering how to communicate with the mortal world, have revealed the secrets of what is on the other side, at least for dogs, who can readily accept the spiritual, the magical, and the supernatural.

 

Whiskey knew who was before her and where she was. She joined her brothers in a hug, lick, and dance before they tore up the stairs and were joined by Fuzzy Bacon as they played and howled in joy. As she ran past, I had to shout the oath at Whiskey, but it was ceremonial because she already knew every word and had pre-registered as an angel.

 

If the responsibilities of being an adult had not blocked mortals from seeing the immortal world, her parents could have seen their reunion. If they shut their eyes, open their hearts, and use their imagination, they will see 12, Fuzzy Bacon, Whiskey, and  Chappy playing together again. People think imagination creates figments, but a sixth sense allows them to see into the next world.  

 

I know it isn’t as simple as that, because grief, the pain that equals the love lost, is like a dark curtain, blotting out happiness, laughter, joy, and the sixth sense of imagination.

 

But grief will relent, slowly the curtain will rise, and all will be open to them again, and if they allow themselves to push their imagination and let their souls float like a bee in a breeze, they will see their four dogs reunited and experience joy again.

 

I hope it happens for them. It is a rare gift, but they deserve it.

THE RUBY ROSE REPORT OCTOBER 9, 2022

 

This week, strange men came into the house.

We had a big, loud metal box with a big wheel outside our house. A squirrel runs on the wheel. If he goes clockwise, the box blows hot air and counterclockwise cold. My Dad noticed nothing happened when he signaled the squirrel to run and called the squirrel wrangler.

Mommy was out of the house when the wrangler came, so I was held by Daddy, and we went to my least favorite room (the outside) with the wrangler. He opened the box and just like I thought: No squirrel. The wrangler said he needed to order one, which he called “an electrical board,” Until then, we would have to Little House on the Prarie.

The next day the wrangler called and said that the squirrel would cost over a thousand dollars. Knowing they would not survive the winter without a fresh squirrel and living under the model “Whatcha gonna do?” they okayed the purchase. This was on a Thursday, and they will put in the part on Monday.

Over the weekend, Daddy had an idea. He looked up the paperwork she was given when they bought the box and saw that he was guaranteed free squirrels for ten years. He called the box store, and they agreed he was due a free squirrel.

I thought we should just get one from the yard, but they must be trained. 

Daddy called the wrangler and was told, “no, you don’t have a warranty!” Daddy asked how they knew that since they didn’t have the model, serial, or installation date. “Why don’t you just tell me the name of the movie you selected,” the man said, then hung up the phone.

Daddy called back and talked to the poor person who had to answer the phone and take the abuse for the higher-paid fools she shares an office with, and she told Daddy she would mention it to the service manager, who would call the same day. HVAC repair companies work a 96-hour day. 

While waiting, I got to experience autumn in New England, which sounds like a lovely Barry Manilow song, but it is just a season with cold nights and mornings when you need the heat, hot afternoons when you need the AC, and 10:13 PM when it is briefly comfortable.

Finally, it was all worked out, and the wrangler came over with the squirrel. He first said, “I don’t know nuthin’ about no warranty.” So, while the wrangler stood in the driveway holding his squirrel, Daddy spent a half hour on the phone until someone said he could have the freaking squirrel (which I could have gotten for him, but only if it walked on the porch because I hate the outside.)

Once he got the OK, the man began to put the new squirrel on the wheel, which was good because the following two days were going to be hot, and the next two were freezing. After a half hour, the man came back in and said, “Squirrel don’t fit; moose outside shoulda told ya.”

So, the man said he would have the new squirrel the next day, but we didn’t. It was so hot on Friday night I didn’t want to sleep under the covers and so cold the next two days I wanted more covers.  My parents hope it is fixed Monday, but it is Columbus Day when he found America, and the new land discovered shotty customer service. (If you think the blanket the white man gave you has smallpox: Press one.)

Me, I’m going to hibernate.

Friday Fill Ins

 

 

 

 

Each Thursday Ellen of 15andmeowing and Lorianne of Four-Legged Furballs, provide Friendly Fill-in questions.

 

Here are my answers, it is the first time I have done a Friday Fill In - Ruby

Here are this weeks questions:
1. When I turned over the pillow I found a stale treat which I ate.
2. My favorite breakfast is early
3. I’m so glad I live in a world where people spend so much money on overprice dog dogs and treat.
4.  My day is not complete without zooms.

 

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

 

 

 

 Simon says touch your head

Simon says  lift your feet

Simon says turn your face red

Simon says make you hands meet

Simon says stand on one foot

Simon says look down

Simon says put your face in a pout

Simon says you are out

Simon says I am not sadistic

Simon says if you look at the statistics

Simon said you will see I enjoy causing pain

Simon said you I will make you play in the driving rain

Simon says if you stopped listening to think

Simon says you will realize I like kink

Simon says you will know what's been sticking in your craw

Simon says my name is not Simon, but Jigsaw from Saw 

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Darn it. Everything has almonds and I have a peanut allergy

Tengso Tries to Make Dreams Come True

My friends Rani and Shamrock were joined by their brother Tengso this weekend, leaving their mom brokenhearted again.

Tengso is a sweet boy who had fought the Dark Angels bravely for years, surviving a cancer battle and arthritis which robbed him of his ability to walk. But, up to his last day, Tengso met every day with a smile and always, through his dark eyes, showed his mom how much he loved her.

After losing his siblings and trying to help his mom cope with his losses, he knew her greatest wish, to be visited in her dreams by her angels, and she would remember the encounter.

Tengso, after he was sworn in as an angel, and had his welcoming celebration, gathered with his siblings to discuss accessing their mom's dreams. I overheard their talk, and never being able to mind my own business, I butted into theirs.

I told them that it is a curse for humans not to be able to remember our dream visits. Mortal life, for humans, can be a cold, heartless place where you have to work, from a child doing his homework to an adult laboring 50 hours a week. To cope with this harshness, the human mind blocks anything that is not rooted in easily explaible facts. Young children and seniors are allowed to experience the magic, and when they repeat what they see, they are told they are senile or have an overactive imagination.

Because of the darkness of mortal life, humans tend to remember the bad dreams, where they, or someone they love, are in danger, then the good ones, where humans visit them. Life has caused humans to reject the good and concentrate on the bad; for example, more humans know when Pearl Harbor was bombed than when the US was ultimately victorious in the war. Bad news always seems to stick.

But, we angel never stop trying, especially one as determined as Tengso, who fought off cancer for his mom and the inability to walk for her and defeated all odds against him. He has let love lead him from his puppy days, and now that his pain is gone and his legs are strong, as is his mind, he is ready to go to war—a war of remembrance.

Through grit and determination, I think his mom's dreams will someday come true and, more importantly, be remembered.

The Ruby Rose Report October 2, 2022

 

The first thing my parents did upon my arrival at my forever home was put me on the grass to pee. I darted off it, and my parents put me back; I walked on the grass like a Clydesdale trying to scrape something off the bottom of his shoes. It is evident that, like a freshman from Norman, Oklahoma, who goes to an Ivy League School,  I was unfamiliar with grass, while everyone else was.

There were two more attempts to get me to pee on the grass, both unsuccessful, before I found the pads in the hall and emptied my bladder. It became apparent after a few days and walking that training me to go outside would be arduous, and there were advantages to me doing my business inside, namely not having to take me out in the New England wet and cold. They rightly anticipated I would not take to the freezing temperatures.

I am built like a high-rise apartment that runs across the entire top floor and is only eight inches wide. I have sizable legs for a 10-pound dog,  and I am long. But, the actual dog part is small, and my size would lead to pee pad problems.

Dogs are like men. When males are a guest in a home, they line up their pee like Tiger Woods preparing to sink a thirty-footer to win the Masters, but when they are comfortably at home, they let it splash like a kid trying to get over the bridge at the mini golf course.

When I arrived at my house, I made sure I peed in the center of the pad, but I became less careful once I knew I had passed the audition. If my front paws were in place, I was going despite my back end being six inches short. I barely noticed the pee puddle as I ran back to the living room to snuggle.

My parents are intellectuals, so they overthink everything. They added more pie pads, but I peed on the floor as soon as my paws felt its texture. They tried a bath towel until they realized they were washing four daily. Then came dishwashing towels, which had no absorbency, and Mommy did not find them aesthetically pleasing.

Finally, they settled on paper towels trying several different layers until they settled on three. Now with how pee paper towel profits should skyrocket as I burn through several rolls a week.

I am getting good at hitting the towels as long as they are precisely four inches exposed. If less, I pee on the floor, and if more, I bunch them up under the pads.

Who knew a dog peeing inside would be so taxing?

Next: Adventures in Pooping.