What do you do when your parents come home?
Featuring the exploits of Ruby Rose, Foley Monster's Tails From Rainbow Bridge, and co-starring Angels Pocket and River Song. We always try to leave you between a laugh and a tear
Monday, July 31, 2023
Sunday, July 30, 2023
The Ruby Rose Report: The Attack of the Mole Man
This week was filled with danger. The mole men got under the house and tried to attack us. Luckily my barking kept them away.
It
started with a puddle. During a walk, Daddy saw a familiar wet spot by
the back concrete steps, he had seen it before but thought it was runoff
from the rain, but it hadn't rained for three days. He removed a slat
from under the house, looked under, and said some made of HBO words. By
the time he called a plumber, I was sleeping.
Three days later, a
man appeared tasked with climbing under the house supposedly to fix the
leak, but he had sinister plans. He opened the door beneath the house
and let the mole man out.
He crawled out of his hole, thirsty for
Griffon's blood, and began hammering, trying to break the floor and
come inside. I ran to the grate under the house and began to bark at the
mole man to leave, but he persisted.
He was trying to wrench the
floorboards off to get to us. My parents seemed to find this all
normal, as they did not let the mole people bother me.
The
man who opened the portal for the mole men must have closed the hatch
each time she crawled out from under the house because the noise
stopped. He left, and I thought we were safe, but apparently, he had to
buy parts for the mole people, and he was soon back under the house, and
the banging and wrenching restarted.
This went on for hours. I
think my defending the house worked because, with my super hearing, I
could hear the man saying that the "job" was more complicated than he
thought. There is nothing worse than a whiney mole man.
Finally,
the mole men were defeated, and the man who unleashed them in the first
place expected payment. I was incensed. These mole me exterminators have
you by the short hairs.
That night I got a dream visit from
River Song. She explained that she had loosened the clamps on all the
pipes before she left for the Bridge, causing them to leak and driving
her feral kitty animals from the spot under the porch. "I didn't want
you to have to deal with them," River said.
I thanked her and didn't let on how I felt.
I would rather deal with a hundred feral cats than the mole men.
Friday, July 28, 2023
Nature Friday
Welcome back to my Friday introduction to our blooms via the Blog Hop hosted by our friends Jake and Arty.
This week we are doing the plot known as St Anthony’s Garden, the central garden, the big garden, and most importantly, Foley’s park, so named because she thinks it’s the biggest and the best.
Here are some newly planted Impatiens called the Jonas brothers. Usually, we lose a couple to the Heat; poor Nick looks a little pale.
This is Billy the Great Big Lily. He is our giant plant but only produced a few bids. Rumor is it might be a victim of downsizing.
This is Sasha, the Shasta Daisy looking to have a good time.
This is Woody, the oriental bittersweet. It looks like Woody is a weed to me.
Thursday, July 27, 2023
Poetry Thursday
Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.
We are all born with different talents
Some silly, some downright gallant
But little Elvis could do one with ease
He was very fluent in squeakanese
When he got his first squeaky toy
He carried it in his mouth with joy
He squeaked it in his little mouth
And heard something that made his heart drop south
“Put me down,” the toy said in squeakanese
And Elvis looked around to see who he did displease
But it was just him and his toys in the downstairs bedroom
Elvis looked down at the toy wearing a worrying frown
“Keep me out of your mouth,” the toy did warn
It was the most surprised Elvis has been since being born
Elvis asked: “How can I understand you?”
Elvis did not have a clue.
“When we squeak, we are not just making noise
Just because we know it annoys
We are begging not to be de-squeaked
Just because you're in a fit of pique
“It is a very special dog who understands us
And now we have something for you to discuss
Tell all your dog friends that toys have feeling too
An entire species has put their faith in you.”
Elvis felt bad and wanted to help
And he hated to hear the squeakers yelp
But dogs are meant to chew, and toys be chewed
And he just hoped whatever he put in his mouth wasn’t rude.
Wednesday, July 26, 2023
Tuesday, July 25, 2023
Sunday, July 23, 2023
The Ruby Rose Report: The Busted Buggy
Ruby has filed her weekly report. Here is your copy.
Last week I was accused of something that was not my doing: The destruction of the pack's buggy.
It has been passed down since Foley. I realized that I made it an antique, but it also met that it was old, maybe too old for service.
Every dog, including me, has grown bored in the buggy and wanted freedom. We pressed our heads against the front screen as souls who attack things head-on. We didn't expect this to have any effect, but over time, I maintained the zipper became worn, so two weeks ago, when bored, a little hot, and wanting a head scratch, I placed my noggin against the screen and suddenly it gave way. My head was out, but I was not happy. I knew the buggy was broken beyond repair.
Now, you may have several suggestions on how to fix the zipper. Still, given the people I had to work with and their limited mechanical abilities, the buggy was as totaled as a race car with a flat tire whose pit crew was entirely composed of badgers.
I could not get out of the buggy because I was tethered to it by a short strap, but my Mom did not want to put her faith in the thin, two-inch piece of fabric. So, the buggy was still functional and was even better because it was now a convertible, but it did not pass the mom inspection and was sent to the junkyard.
I was excited when a new buggy was ordered. It would be solely mine. I planned on decorating it in my style. My happiness ended as soon as I went to sleep.
I usually entered sweet dreamland, but I found myself in Judge Foley's courtroom, where I stood accused of destroying the family carriage.
I was disadvantaged since Foley was both the judge and the prosecuting attorney.
She began to speak. She called me careless. She called me reckless. She called me guilty and said I should be sentenced to be her dream butler for six months. It is the greatest penalty a soul can pay.
I was so gobsmacked I couldn't mount a defense. Then my savior appeared: Pocket Dog. First, she used the indisputable law of physics to state that my tiny head and tinier brain could not devise a way to break the buggy. Then she asked for a sidebar and approached Foley with a picture of her pressing her bulbous head against the zipper.
Pocket approached Judge Foley and showed her the picture. She turned red, then declared a mistrial. She did not want evidence of her guilt to be disclosed.
I enjoyed my new ride in the yard while my parents sweated in the gardens. It is a little unsteady because it has only one wheel in front, and when no one was looking, something tipped me over.
Then I saw the ghost of Foley snickering.
She had her revenge.
Still, it's better to be sideways than a butler.
Saturday, July 22, 2023
Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Cosmo
Momma Silve has sent a lot of dogs to the Bridge. Having a lot of experience, you would think it would be easier, but they only get harder.
Parents never get over the passing of a beloved pet. They are, over time, able to bottle it in leaky containers that can't contain the pain, which seeps out periodically, and when heartbreak is experienced, as when a dog goes to the Bridge, those bottles are shattered. The heart has to collect the grief and bottle it again. Each time becomes more difficult.
Her newest angel, Cosmo, shattered the bottles when he went to the Bridge this week, dredging up memories of previous angels, like the latest, JD and Wendy.
Having lots of pets in your life means you have a lot of love and pain. The love outweighs the pain but is all-consuming when the latter is fresh.
Cosmo lived a long time on the mortal side. He did not suddenly get sick but slowly faded away as he aged, with his body slowly breaking down. When you see someone every day, you may not notice the changes as they age, like a picture that is gradually fading, until you look at it one day and realize you can barely see it.
Momma Silvie's baby boy reached up and touched the sky before splashing into the River of Life. He emerged from the water just south of Rainbow Bridge, which he warily crossed. Having siblings already there makes the transition easier, but it still takes a brave to begin life anew in a strange place.
JD and Wendy were the first to meet Cosmo. Passing over can be confusing, so the elder angels explained to Cosmo where he was. Having his feat confirmed and knowing he was not living with his mom was heartbreaking for the little pup, but at the Bridge, with so much beauty, good friends, and freedom from fear, it is hard to maintain sadness, and soon Cosmo began to feel joy in his heart.
Summer is an excellent time to become an angel. In the northern hemisphere, all the ways to visit a parent are available, from birds to bees, to little furry animals, and before the day was done, he was outside his mom's house, as a bird, watching his mom mourn him and waving his wings to signal he was there.
He and his siblings plan to be there every night.
And he will return to a happy care free land where sadness, worry, and pain are rare emotions.
If only parents could experience the same, there would be a lot less suffering in the world.
Friday, July 21, 2023
Nature Friday
Thursday, July 20, 2023
Poetry Thursday
Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.
Roscoe was a happy dog living with just his mom
It was quiet and fun
Then his mom told him something that almost made him break out with mange
She was getting married but nothing was going to change
That wasn’t really true
He said to his Mom: “There’s a guy sleeping between men and you.
Can you make an exchange,”
She assured Roscoe nothing would change
Then one day she sat Roscoe down and said she was having a child
It would be cute, happy, playful, and not wild
But the two of them would never be estrange
And nothing would change
Roscoe’s mom was taking an experimental drug
The doctor said she may have more than one, and she said humbug
Sure there were some things they may have to arrange
But nothing would change
Everyone was shocked when she had 17
And Roscoe’s life would never be serene
And from now on for food, he would have to scavenge
But nothing would change
Soon she found caring for 17 at once
With a husband she always knee was a dunce
And she was sure she would soon derange
And something had to change
She left in the middle of the night
And now Rosco and the dunce face a great fight
Their prospects looked poor in the short-range
Because there were 17 babies who all needed a change
Wednesday, July 19, 2023
Tuesday, July 18, 2023
Beat this Captain
You are under arrest. You have the right to feed the cat. Anytime you don’t feed the cat will be held against you.
Monday, July 17, 2023
Monday Question
Does the heat affect you?
Does your palace have AC?
Is there anything special you do to beat the heat?
Ruby's answer
Being from Florida the heat does not bother me.
Yes, I would not live in a house without AC
I drink more water, and don't spend as much time under the blanket.
Sunday, July 16, 2023
The Ruby Rose Report: A Pocket Warninh
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I respect all my ancestors and am often visited by them in my dreams. River, the one who chose me, is my most frequent guest, and Foley, the head of the table, ensures I am treating you right. Then there is Pocket, who appeared at the cusp of summer to issue a warning.
Pocket told me that the thunderstorms were coming, they would frighten me a tremendous amount, and if I needed her, to think of her, and she would be my thunder buddy. I had heard of Pocket's fear of thunderstorms and was touched by her selfless offer.
The first bad storm we got, I was on my mom's lap, under a blanket. I heard the bangs but knew I was safe and stayed there for the duration.
Pocket came to see me that night and asked if I was scared, and I said I wasn't. She informed me something worse was on the way, what she called the Fourth of July, when the sky exploded with whistles, booms, and fire. It sounded scary and not what I was used to, having spent my first Fourth in the part of Florida where everyone sleeps an hour before Mr. Night arrives.
But it rained on the Fourth, and there were some bangers on the Fifth, but it didn't bother me. I woke up to see Pocket looking over me in my dreams: "Are you made of stone?" she asked. "Every Foley got shaken up by fireworks." I shrugged. I am a naturally quiet dog.
Then we got a string of bad storms, one worse than the other. They came during the night, with the thunder rolling like a thousand approaching stormtroopers and rain beating down on our roof, like Pukwudgeirs banging on the shingles, trying to break in. Occasionally the wind would howl like rabid werewolves approaching from the woods—the lightning flashes, lighting the house in a most unnatural color. It is while fire in the sky, striking randomly, and, if you are unlucky and your home is hit, it could burn to the ground.
I stayed under the blanker during the storms, knowing I was safe. The next night Pocket appeared in my dreams and told me it was obvious I was not scared of storms and didn't need to be carried around the house when they were happening, or held and snuggled to sleep, or get special attention just because there was a storm. Pocket told me she was proud of me.
And I started to think maybe it would be better, snuggle-wise if I was afraid.
Friday, July 14, 2023
Nature Friday
I am joining Rosy and Sunny for the Nature blog hop. It has taken a long time for our gardens to be presentable. I hope you agree that they are Rosy and Sunny worthy.
We have six gardens: The front garden, the River garden, the Foley garden, the Pocket garden, the back garden and the second chance garden.
This week we are concentrating on the front garden, our yard’s oldest, located in front of the house.
Here at my blooms
This is a great laurel with some black eyed Susan’s pooking through. Its name is Meryl,
This is a Day Lily. Its name is Fred
Here are the beautiful clematis. Its name is Paul.
This Hosta ventricosa is named Steve
This Oxkeye Daisy is named Bruce
The purple coneflower is named Natasha
And that is it for this week. Join me next week for the side garden
Thursday, July 13, 2023
Poetry Thursday
Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.
Bob’s job was causing him stress.
His doctor told him he had to worry less
He suggested Bob start doing yoga
The doctor knew a good one in Saratoga.
Bob decided to find online poses.
Not wanting to go to a class and having a pretty girl grow his
These were the type of worries that made Bob an emotional cripple
(His therapist thought he was too young to be weaned from the nipple)
He was doing a pose called cobra
A position that made his dog Fred guffaw
“You should try it,” Bob told Fred
“It will make your problems go away,” he said
Fred could not relax.
It had been that way since he left his pack
He had never heard of yoga for dogs
It sounded like the kind of thing native to tree frogs
Fred lay next to Fred on his belly
He thought to bend like Bob, his spine would have to be jelly
He lifted his head and turned his back, yelling, “look what I can do.”
I felt like his penis was attached to the floor by superglue.
He looked over his shoulder to check out his butt
And saw it wrinkled up on the other side of his guy
He thought it made him look like a relaxed shar pei
With an ass like that, he knew with the girls, he would slay
For Bob, the treatments did not work
At work, he was still a stressed-out jerk
But for Fred, yoga changed his life
He made friends, earned kibble, and got a trophy wife
Yoga isn’t for everyone. That is true
But for Fred, he gave him a new life
He is now a dog yoga instructor and lives without doubt
He just couldn’t figure out why he was so stressed out
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Are you a trip hazard? Have your parents ever tripped over you? How often? Did anyone get injured
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This is an excerpt from Pocket’s soon to be released best selling book “Going Rougff.” When I announced my candidacy for the Senate people...