The Case of the Puerto Rican Zoo Immigrants (A Foley Monster Small Tale from Rainbow Bridge_

 I had to put my judge robe on this week to decide on a crucial case.

There was once a thriving zoo in Puerto Rico, but because of budget cuts and a disastrous hurricane, the zoo fell into disrepair, and the animals became neglected. There was no choice but to close the zoo.

But what was to become of the animals? They couldn't be set free; some of them were predators. They began to search for a zoo to take the soon-to-be homeless inhabitants.

After months of calls, the government found a wildlife sanctuary in Colorado that agreed to take the animals.

But that was only the beginning of the problems. Darnell, an elephant in the sanctuary, objected to the refugees being allowed into his neighborhood.

He stood before the other animals and made his case: "When Puerto Rico sends its animals, they're not sending their best. They're sending animals that have lots of problems, and they're bringing those problems with us. They're bringing lice. They're bringing disease. They're predators. And some, I assume, are good animals."

At first animals, he thought that Darnell was stroking his trunk. Still, other animals sided with him and filed suit in animal court to block the Puerto Rican animals from immigrating to Colorado. All human testimony occurred in their quickly forgotten dreams; at least, I hoped they didn't remember.

Recalling a dream where a Yorkie judged an elephant's desire to block refugee giraffes from entering the country would make someone swear off late-night cold pizza.

The defendant went first: He explained that the animals' lives were in danger in Puerto Rico, and their best hope for survival was being transferred to Colorado. A ruling against them would be a death sentence.

Next, it was Darnell's turn. The elephant impressively stood on his back legs and spoke clearly. "The sanctuary is for open cages. There is a caravan of zoo animals invading the southern border. We need to tell them the refuge is full. "

"It is not a caravan," the representative for the sanctuary said, "it is an ark. The owner is named  Noah, and two of each animal are on the boat. They will perish if they are not accepted in Colorado and return to Puerto Rico."

I didn't want to be responsible for animals perishing and quickly sided with the refugees.

Darnell is trying to overturn my decision and is running for President of the Sanctuary. It is scary to think he could get elected, especially when facing several charges, including paying off a gibbon who peed on his trunk for sexual gratification.

He couldn't possibly be elected.

Could he?

Poetry Thursday

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

They said it was called a television

It was my dad who made the decision

To cast aside the radio

And to the future, we will go

He bought it at Cunnigham’s Appliances 

With money, he receives from his Uncle Sid

It must have weighed a ton

Carrying it, the station wagon could barely run

My mom cleared a spot in the living room

Moving a table that was a family heirloom

My Dad somehow carried it inside

When he put it down, he made such a noise I thought he had died

He plugged it in by the light

My sister and I jockeyed for room and began to fight

My dad turned it one, and the picture flipped

In doing so, his pants did whip

Finally, we got a clear picture

After saying words not found in the holy scripture

We sat transfixed for five minutes, maybe ten

Before we wandered off to read in the den

I could not help but yawn

And observe there were lots of stations by nothing on

\

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

"What do you mean? The boys and I stayed in the park late. No, there weren't any bitches there. Why are you so suspicious? 

Monday Question

 How do you keep your teeth clean?

Do you have greenies, get your tooth brushed, chew bones, or go al natural?

Ruby's answer: I love to chew bones, but I also get my teeth brushed, but only after I eat my poop.

I think that has more to to with my plans for future face licking than my teeth health. 

The Ruby Rose Report: I am A Street Walker

 

This week, I went outside for the first time; it got cold and dark. Attempts were made during the winter to get me out of the house, but I wanted nothing to do with the cold. I am pee pad trained, and unless they start occurring in nature, I am doing my business inside like my parents.

It was a lovely day, over sixty degrees, with the sun shining. Last year, when my parents tried to walk me, I would start proudly down the road, and as soon as my house disappeared, I pulled to get back.

On this day, first, I had to put on my walking harness. That thing must have shrunk in the drawer over the winter because it didn't come anywhere near fitting I thought I would need a trip to the tailor before venturing outside, but River's big purple harness fit me perfectly. I was ready to face the world.

As we had in the fall, we began in the backyard. I walked down the back property line, sniffing what could be inhaled. We returned to the house, and I explored the rear garden and enjoyed a piece of mulch, even though I was told to leave it. No dog can do that in the spring.

Then we walked along the side lawn, and I sniffed the garden there; after that, we crossed the driveway to the front garden, where I picked up the scent of the breeze.

I followed the breeze, to my dad's surprise, and walked down the street. I didn't show any compunction to turn around, and I pulled my dad down the end of the road and around the corner.

I was walking to the row of rocks along the route. When River interviewed me for the critical position of the family dog, she told me the stones were the local post office where dogs and many other animals leave messages. I had not come near them in nine months but thought I would.

Sadly, on this day, I wouldn't either because the site maintenance man, who doesn't think he has to follow the rules and breaks more than he maintains, had left his dog outside. This was nothing new. It once charged at River, and she would never go down the street; it lived on again. The dog began barking, and I lost the scent and decided home would be the better place to be.

I may not have completed my journey, but I started it and have a whole summer to complete it and read the accumulated pee male.

I am a Big Girl Street Walker.

 

Friday Fill-Ins

 

I am participating in the Friday Fill-Ins this week. My fill-in is in purple. This blog hop is hosted by 15andmeowing for the sentences to fill in OR if you have already done that and want to link up!

---

1. My favorite character from a film, TV or Book? If blogs count I would say me, if not then Rip's horse on Yellowstone. 

2. The one word I would use to describe myself is [erfect...

3. If I had to give you my best piece of advice, I would tell you there is nothing a good nap in the sun won't make better. 

4. I will never compare with That horse on Yellowstone. That thing has some flanks on it. 

 

---

Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday

My mom was a weightlifting champion

Maybe that is why daddy couldn’t sleep with an ambien

The men at the club all made fun

That she was the stronger one

Old dad, he did live in fear

That in his sleep, mom would attack from the rear

Once, a robber entered the house

And Daddy told Mommy to be quieter than a mouse

Instead, she stood and confronted the villain 

And beat him until his face was vermilion

When the police came, they treated her like a queen

While he was left in the room to clean

He decided to get in shape and joined a gym

But she had to save him the first time he tried to swim

He complained to his friend that he had become emasculated 

And his friends worried their marriage was ill fated

But he knew he could not leave

It was something he could not conceive

As much as everyone thought it was funny

Without her, they would beat him up for his lunch money

Das told me she was so strong when I was in her womb

When she gave birth, she shot me across the room

Old the kids laughed that their dad could beat up mine

And I told them my mom could snap their spine

I want you to know my mom was a real lady

Even when she played offensive line for Tom Brady

To me she was just my mom

Who made cookies, wiped my nose, and wrestled as the Atom Bomb

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

Larry was embarrassed. When he agreed to be a fourth for Bridge, he did not know it was a bring-your-own-chair event. 

 

Monday Question

 

Our parents like to complain about what we do that annoys them

but what do they do to annoy you?

Besides giving medicine and denying food

I am annoyed when my parents move me from a comfortable and warm spot

The Ruby Rose Report: The Pill

 

After a busy and stressful week last Sunday, a small bout of selective diarrhea began.

It was selective because I would go all day without a poop (or, as they are called in my house, “doubles” because they are number “twos). I would produce a semi-soft stool (also the name of the punk Griffon punk band I began as a pup in Florida) and then get out of my parent’s bed three or four times a night to
Produce little poop
Puddles. When my tank was empty, I began the process again the following day.

My parents tried the chicken and rice diet, which quickly became the chicken diet because Griffons aren’t vegans. Still, the pattern held until Thursday they called the vet.

Pre-COVID vets instead on seeing an animal before prescribing medicine, but in the disease’s aftermath, they ain’t got no time for patients. The vet instructed my parents to come to the office, sit outside, text them the space number, and they would bring the medicine out. They are so reluctant to allow anyone inside I am pretty convinced they are running a cock fighting ring in the waiting area.

My parents returned home with the magic pills to stop my midnight pooping. They opened the bottle, took one out, and realized there was one problem. They looked at my face, which said, to paraphrase Will Smith, “keep your M effing pill out of my M effing mouth.

My parents’ first effort at giving me the drug was the old “wrap it in chicken” trick, and I took the meat and spat out the pill. They tried it wrapped in cheese with similar results.

Frustrated, they forcefully opened my mouth, put the tablet in, firmly closed my mouth, put my head back, and waited for gravity to do its business. But, Griffons are not subject to the laws of physics, and when they let go, I spit the pill out.

Next, Mommy forced my mouth open and put a small bone in it to keep it open, then Daddy fired a slingshot, sending the pill into my mouth but off the bone, knocking it over, and the pill out of my mouth.

Then they put the pill into a syringe full of water and forced the stream into my mouth, and I welcomed the water and expelled the drug.

Things broke down after that. They tried, but instead of putting the pill in me, they would put me around the tablet, which they balanced on the tip of a sword; they opened my mouth and lowered me on it until it was halfway into my body, then pulled me out. They were happy to see the pill gone until I spit it out.

With one end not working, they did a quick Google search about what would happen if we put the pill up my butt. Thankfully, Mr. Google told them they could be imprisoned for such an offense, and they searched for a new way.

They put it in butter to slide it down my throat, and I slid it back up. They covered it in a meaty broth, which I licked off and left the pill untouched. They hid it in my pumpkin; I ate it and left the tablet. They offered me a thousand dollars, and I held out for $10,000.

Exasperated, they threw the pill on the ground. I watched it skid across the floor, then sniffed it. “Just leave it,” my Mom, who had given up, said.

If three is one surefire way to force a dog to take a pill, it is to them they can’t have it. I made sure they weren’t looking, then licked up the medicine.

It wasn’t too bad.

After that, they crushed it into my food, which they should have done in the first place.

The pill cured me of diarrhea, but the stress of giving it to me caused my parents to suffer from dysentery. Luckily there is a pill for that.

Baby, Rosie, and Angel Chester are Foley's Pups of the Week

 

I was taking a nighttime stroll through Blogville when I passed the newspaper office and saw Chester fast asleep, curled up next to his typewriter.

When I opened the door, a bell rang, which caused Chester to wake up and begin barking orders to his staff, who had gone home hours earlier.

“It’s just me,” I said, “I am sorry to startle you.”

“A newsman is never startled,” he said. “And I wasn’t sleeping; I was visiting my puppy sisters, Baby and Rosie. They are improving, but I don’t know if they can run the Daily Bone without my help.

The Daily Bone was the newspaper Chester founded while living in the mortal world when he accepted an offer to cast off his tired, old, and sick body to begin a Bridge edition of the paper. Chester was tasked with starting the paper and finding replacements to keep the mortal version going.

Chester interviewed dozens of dogs but could not find his candidate to be his mom’s heart dog and a good reporter. Then he was struck by a Thunderbolt. He would find two dogs, and it made sense. No single dog could replace Chester.

He dreams visited Rosie, the best reporting candidate, and Baby, the most likely to be a heart dog, and they agreed to team up as pack members.

The next step was to convince his mom to get two dogs to help rebuild her heart. She agreed with Chester; allowing her was more than a one-dog endeavor. Chester told his mom where she could find his picks for their pack, and soon the home of one dog became two.

The duo is doing a great job with their mom’s heart. Being with them gives her a joy she thought she had lost when Chester went to the Bridge.

Turning them into ace reporters has been difficult given the low attention span of puppies and that it has snowed and the pair of sisters are delighted romping

In the snow, then, they fall asleep when they are done.

“They are excellent weather reporters, but they are so busy being puppies they miss what is happening in their backyard.”

I reminded Chester about taking care of their mom.

It was the pups’ first priority, and it took him a few years to become the hardened reporter he is now.

Chester sighed and said I was right. He needed to be patient, and there was a literal eternity for them to improve.

Then we walked outside and looked in the window as minions ran the press. We got a fresh copy of the paper and began to read it.

I love the Bridge edition, where the only news is good news.

Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

Kathy climbed very high.

To do so, you must be spry

The crowd yelled, “dive, dive!

We know you will come out of the pool alive.”

Kathy looked down from high in the air

Ane realized she could see everywhere

“Hey Jim,” she yelled from the board

And to Jim’s house, she pointed towards

“I can see your house from here

You better get home. Your teenage son is drinking your beer.”

“Dive, dive,” the crowd demanded

But she was looking at Rupert’s store, which was short-handed

“You better get to your shop

The kids are stealing your soda pop.”

“Dive, dive” the crowd yelled 

But she was too concerned with what smelled

“Giles, I can see your house on fire

You better get home before it turns dire.”

“Dive, dive,” the dwindling crowd chanted

But she saw something Larry took for granted

“Your wife is making you a cuckold

Your next-door neighbor has here in a close hold.”

“Dive, dive,” the few remaining cried

But she told Ned his son turned his suit in tye-dye

One by one, they all departed

Which made Kathy feel joy and wholehearted

She climbed down from her high perch

There was no need to diving since they left her in the lurch

The next day she told everyone they had gone

That she had dove as pretty as a swan

She was sorry no one saw it

And then she climbed down lickety-split

After collecting her pay for the dive

She moved on to the next town to connive

To charge people a hundred dollars to see

She dives into the pool like a descending bee

And tell them all the reasons they must leave

And then the next day told she dived, which they believed

Kathy was thankful the folks were so dim

Truth be told, she couldn’t even swim

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

After six months in jail for eating a mouse, Max realized his Pomeranian lawyer was, in fact, an idiot

Monday Question

 

Who does your nails?

Do you cooperate?

If you have them done at home, who does it and what do they use?

The Ruby Rose Report: A Trip to Home Depot

 

Unlike an animal or someone in their early 20s at Coachella, I do my bathroom business inside the house and have my room to do my business.

Before I moved there, my bathroom had a washing machine and Dryer. I didn’t mind until the Dryer started sounding like a squirrel got his tail caught in the Tumbler.

Having replaced two phones, a refrigerator, and an iPad in the last month, I figured my parents were smart enough not to call a Repairman.

But they did, and like the refrigerator, they paid over $100 for the appliance medical examiner to call the time of death.

It was on a Monday when my parents chose to buy a new dryer. I had a vet appointment the same day to get a rabies shot. I did not know why a dog who didn’t go outside and spent most of her time lying down needed one, but as always with our parents, it’s better to go along to get along.

I did not like it when a strange woman picked me up and brought me inside the vet’s office without my parents. I got weighed and gained a couple of pounds; then I got stabbed before being reunited with my parents, frantically worrying about my two minutes 57 seconds of absence.

I thought we’d go home, but we headed in the opposite direction. I was riding on mommy’s lap, enjoying the sights, when we pulled into the parking lot of the biggest building I had ever seen. It was called the Home Depot.

Daddy carried me into the large warehouse; people were doing everything and going everywhere all at once. Not enough people said how cute I was—heartless Buffoons.

We walked around, trying to find a Dryer. Every time they found one, they realized it was a washer. Why don’t they make these things different colors? My parents finally found the least expensive unit, or as the bird flying around said” “cheap
They hunted down someone who could help them. It is easier to find Bigfoot in the appliance section of Home Depot than a worker.

They began to do the paperwork for the Dryer. My parents presented their Home Depot card as payment, and the woman said the credit limit had been exceeded. That is when I tired from the entire experience and told her the card was maxed out because they had just bought a refrigerator there.

Does Home Depot penalize its Customer for being too loya1? Then I had to talk to someone from their credit department. Thanks to my best baby boss’ voice, the transaction occurred without further issues.

On Friday, the Dryer arrived. I gave it a thorough sniff test. It passed.

Mommy filled it with wet wash. After a half hour, I went into the bathroom to pee just as our clothes were dried. It made a most obnoxious buzzing sound, which caused me to jump from the pee pads across the hall onto the toilet bowl, where I finished peeing.

It just goes to show you no matter what it is that, Griffon pays.