The Ruvy Rose Report: New Year's Resolution

 

I have been told that a new year is beginning, and it is a time to make resolutions to improve my enjoyment of the following year.

I had to think hard about my resolutions: I have an outstanding life and have often been told that I am a good dog.

In short, I am perfect.

And, even if perfection can not be improved, trying is always appreciated.

I thought long and hard about how I could improve myself and reached my first resolution: I am going to stop eating my poop (or anyone else’s.)

This seems like an easy one, but for us poopaholics, it is challenging.

The best way for humans to stay on the wagon is to keep away from their addictions. But it is more complicated for me. I produce my own poor naturally, tempting me.

Imagine an alcoholic urinating whiskey, calling to him for one more drink.

Or imagine a man who loves cinnamon buns. A new batch comes out of the oven every day, warm, smelling delightful. It would break the strongest-willed people.

Well, my poop comes out of my oven warm and smelling good, at least to me, because, as the great philosopher Carlin once said, our farts don’t’ smell bad.”

I know this addiction, for humans, is disgusting. All I can tell you is: Have you ever eaten kibble? Post-digestion kibble isn’t Too far of a step-down.

I am not a morning dog. I hate getting out of bed and usually leave my appetite under the covers. So, the first poop I had, I didn’t touch, except after a heavy night of poop eating, and I knew a stool of the dog that bit me.

My mid-day poop and after-supper poop, when my appetite is always at ten, is lucky if it hits the ground before I am ready to chow down. My parents know my schedule and try to pick it up before I chow it down.

But sometimes my parents, in their comfortable chairs, see me scurry towards my Poop and pee pads and look at each other like new parents who are tired of getting up to tend to the baby and give one another the side eye, hoping the other move first. If not, the poop bar is open!

Then, I jumped in Daddy’s chair and tried to give him a palette-cleansing kiss. Mommy says: “Serves you right for not picking up the poop.”

So I am declaring my new year’s resolution not to eat poop.

I can do it for a day.

What do you mean? Is it for the whole year?

I can’t stop from eating poop for that long.

No one can.

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Mac and the Year Without Christmas

 

Living on the mortal side is much more difficult for humans than for dogs. We can afford to stay home all day, but people need to go out and interact with others. What a terrible fate.

That is why Christmas comes at the end of the year. After months of battling to keep food on the table and a roof over their family’s heads, there is one day that you spend with the people you love and don’t have to put up with the people you don’t.

Then there are kids. Christmas is the last magical day in their lives when elves make toys that Santa delivers.

Only one thing could get parents and children to give up Christmas.

A pet.

Mac is the center of the Shearer family. The one-year-old Tibetan Mastiff always wants to be with his family. He loves going on car rides. This concerned his predecessors at the Bridge because Mac stuck most of his torso out of the window while driving. His angels told him to be careful, but young dogs rarely are.

One day last month, his mom was driving Mac, and she took a sharp turn, then screamed as Max tumbled out of the window.

Max’s leg had broken into two shards that had to be brought together. The estimates were between $5,000 and $8,000. The family knew there was no way they could raise that kind of money.

Max wasn’t just his parents’ dog. He was their nine-year-old daughter’s best friend. The girl had autism, and while Max was not a therapy dog by trade, he was one at heart.

So, the family decided to do everything they could to help Max.

With their daughter consulted on the decision, it was decided to cancel Christmas and put all the money they had been saving for the holiday into Max’s care.

 They sold their car, got a loan, and maxed out their credit cards. If Max was human, it is what they would do, and Max was like a son to them, so they had no choice.

So, Christmas came without ribbons!... it came without tags!... it came without packages, boxes, or bags!

But it did come with a dog named Max.

Quite ironic, isn’t it?

 

Poetry Thursday

 

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

Nana and Papa brought in the New Year with cheer

And with full hearts, confident there was nothing to fear

They had forgotten they had said the same the last New Year

When they both had several times shed a tear

 

They did the same when they met on New Year’s Eve ‘72

When their love was sweet and new

By ’73, inflation had brought them many bills past due

And two babies filled with snot and poo

 

They did the same in ‘78.

The year Papa lost his job because with staff he was inappropriate

They lost their house and lived in a tent on the median of the interstate

But they rang in ’79, fully believing this year would be great.

 

 

In ’84, Nana found work.

And not a boring one like her husband, the clerk

She was a stripper and invented the twerk.

But the owner patented the dance, the greedy jerk.

 

The twins graduated from school in 91

And left their parents for a life of fun

They went on a quick bank run

And were each sentenced to ten years for trying to rob it with a machine gun

 

Despite their troubles, they gladly celebrated New Year’s Eve

Even in 2002, when the managed of their apartment house told them they had to leave

In 2007, when a diagnoses of Ebola, they did receive

In 2009, when their daughter left them with a tween, they still did not believe

 

They were happy through 2014 when their house was washed away by bad weather

And in 2016, when Americans decided Trump was better

Or this year, when their skin turned to brutal leather

They celebrated every year because, despite their misfortunes, they were together

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Best This Caption

Don’t yell at me. You’re the one who wanted a white Christmas. 

Monday Question

What did you get for Christmas?

I got some small stuffies for chewing. 

I am a good dog, and like inexpensive toys.

My dad says he is going to get me a bone, like the one I had, for Dogmass, which is December 28.

Catmuss is the 29th so if you didn't get ahything there is still hope. 

The Ruby Rose Report: Ruby Saves Christmas

 

It was still dark Christmas morning when I got out of bed to pee. I entered the living room and smelled cinnamon. I looked up to find a man with a deep, wrinkled face, a red jacket, pants, and dark boots, sitting in Mommy’s recliner. He was staring straight ahead. I growled my most ferocious growl. It has no effect.

I jumped on his lap and asked him what he was doing in my house.

“Don’t you recognize me?” the man said slowly. ‘I am Santa.”

“But where’s your beard?” I asked.

“It was too fluffy. I couldn’t get a mask on it, so Mrs. Clause cut it off.”

I asked him if he was resting. He smiled. “I was at Betty Lou Chong’s house. Sweet little girl. Left me a plate of brownies. I ate one and shared the rest with my reindeer. A few minutes later we were flying high, when we all began to look at the stars, and the sky, how pretty it was, then we needed a nap. I landed the sled and came inside here.” He looked out the window where the reindeer were sleeping. “I don’t think we are completing our route tonight.”

I asked Santa if he had brownies left, and he produced a small piece. I sniffed it and immediately knew the problem. Santa ate pot brownies, as did his reindeer. Someone would have to save Christmas, and I hoped it wasn’t me.

Santa looked at me: “It’s got to be you.”

I was afraid of that.

He told me the sleigh had been preprogrammed, and the boys assigned to that house magically emerged from the bag. Since I computerized everything, anyone who wants to ride on a sleigh for 24 hours in terrible weather can do it. Do you have any Doritos?” When I told him we didn’t, he replied: “That’s okay, I’ll just eat the gummies Woody Harrelson left out for me.”

 

“Santa!” I yelled, “Don’t eat the gummies!” I was going to be on the sleigh all night.

 

I went outside. It was cold, and I wished I had remembered my lumberjack jacket. I yelled at the reindeer, who, overcome by munchies, were eating the shed. I would need some others to pull my sled.

 

I heard a rustling from the bag and looked inside. Pablo and the ferals were rummaging through the gifts. “What are you doing?” I barked. “You can’t rob Santa.”

 

“Makes no difference to me,” Pablo said. “I once took down the Easter Bunny for moldy Canterbury Eggs.”

 

I suddenly had a fantastic idea. I promised Pablo that Santa would visit him every Christmas if he and his friends pulled the sleigh.

 

“Can we have strawberry covered mice?” he asked, and I promised he could.

 

The Ferrals took the reigns, I grabbed the reins, and we took off high into the sky: “On Pablo, on Pedro, on Carmen, on Ximena, on Santiago, on Mateo, on Alejandro, on Matias,” I yelled. They took a sharp term, almost spilling me from the sled, and I became as quiet as a baby on a redeye from Vegas to LA.

 

Santa had not lied; the GPS and gift program worked. I sat back and enjoyed the ride. When we finished, we returned home. Santa had recovered, but our supply of Chex Mix and Pringles never will. Also, the shed was gone, and the reindeer had removed the grass as Agent Orange had hit it.

n

Santa thanked me and gave the ferals a baked ham as a reward. He got in his sled and flew away. I remembered I had forgotten to ask him for a perfect gift for Mommy.

I went to sleep and then woke up the following day wondering if it had all been a dream. I reached under me and found one of Santa’s gummies, and I knew not only had I not been dreaming, but now I had a perfect gift for Mommy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Folely's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Toby

 

Dogs don’t like to be alone. Toby never was.

His life would have been longer if he had.

Toby was born with an invisible twin that only he and other pets could see. Humans lost their ability to do so in their quest for everything to make sense.

We are all born with some good in us and some evil. Sometimes, we develop the opposite terms outside the body, and when we are born, it detaches us from our body but never leaves us.

Some people, who are remembered for their kindness and generosity, walk with their excellent spirit advising them.

But some walk with invisible evil.

One of those souls was Toby.

Toby is a sweet little white dog who loves playing with toys and walking with his mom. His favorite spot was his bed, beside his mom’s big one, where he peacefully slept. If you saw a picture of him, you would see a happy, cute boy.

But you wouldn’t be able to see the evil on his shoulder.

Toby’s brother Odie could see it. Their mom thought he was upset at having an usurper in the house. She didn’t understand that Geordie loved his brother but hated the evil attached to him.

During his time, one Earth Geordie counterbalanced evil. When he had to go to the Bridge, Toby was vulnerable. Geordie spent time on Toby’s shoulder, advising him to be good, but the evil Toby’s influence was growing.

Toby would go on to bite his mother several times, as well as other family members, and lash out with angry barks. With each incident, the evil power gains more control of his twin. Toby always felt guilty when he was terrible and didn’t know why he acted out; his mom and doctor were stumped too.

Toby had a painful cyst, and the hope was if it was removed, Toby would not be angry. He underwent the operation and felt better, especially since his evil twin was gone. Still, it came back with a vengeance, furious that an attempt was made to stop him, and without knowing why, Toby attacked his mom again.

The evil Toby carried with him could not be defeated. He was not a happy pup and was becoming a danger. His mom and the vet chose to send him to the Bridge.

Toby ran up to the banks near Rainbow Bridge and gradually looked around. His brother Geordie stood mid-bridge calling for his brother, but the evil entity told Toby to stay, with a promise of becoming evil spirits who would torment those who had wronged him.

Toby looked back and forth, then suddenly ran to his brother at the Bridge. The bevil followed him but could not pass over and burst into a single flame that burned brightly before going out.

Toby felt free. All the anger that consumed him was gone. Then Toby realized what the vil had cost him and cried on the Bridge.

Geordie talked to him softly, telling him his mom sent him to the Bridge to be happy. Toby nodded and walked across. As he did, all the pains and torments of life were washed away, and by the time I swore him in, he was the happy pup he was always meant to be.

Geordie told Toby what was next for him. They were to join together and be their mom’s angels, and Toby would be nothing but good this time.

He wants to repay his mom for loving him despite the evil attached to him and showing him love and kindness.

Their mom had not had many breaks in life, but now she had Toby on her shoulder, determined to do good for her.

I predict he will do a spectacular dog, as the best angels have been brushed by evil, making them the strongest of their kind.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

I was a wee child of only eight.

It was Christmas Eve, a time for our family to celebrate.

Aunts, Uncles, cousins, and friends gathered in our house.

I hated them all, feeding off my family like a louse.

 

At nine o’clock, I was sent to bed

“If you’re awake Santa won’t come,” my parents said.

I could hardly sleep because of all the excitement.

It was like I lived at MSNBC, and Trump had been placed under another indictment.

 

 I slept fitfully that Christmas Eve.

Excited about what Santa would leave.

I was up and headed downstairs at the crack of dawn.

But when I got downstairs and looked under the tree, all my excitement was gone.

 

Lying under the treat was Santa.

He had eaten the cookies but hadn’t touched the Fanta,

I ran upstairs, yelling, “Santa is dead.”

Mommy thought I was upset about not getting a Super Mario Wonder and slapped me upside down.

 

Then Daddy realized what I meant.

And quickly down the stairs, my parents went.

They must have been mistaken; their emotions were triste.

Because they both said “Jesus Christ.”

 

My mother said to call 911.

A dead Santa would kill the Christmas fun.

She said the patient was her Uncle Neil

Do you mean my Uncle was really Santa? How surreal

 

The ambulance came and took Santa Neil to be made right.

And peeled out of the driveway with the siren lights bright.

And I heard him exclaim as he sped out of sight.

“Bluh bluh bluck luck hoy dite.”

 

Do you know what is worse when on Christmas you get socks

When Santa has to go to De-Tox

But there was one thing that day that I did not wish to annul

Under the tree, Santa left me Baby’s First Jack Daniels

Wordless Wednesday

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Captio

In Texas today two duck acrobats were arrested while performing their act for a policeman who overreacted to being flipped the bird 

Monday Question

  I know pets want the same things for Christmas.

Our packs and families to be safe and healthy

All the shelter dogs to have homes

Peace on Earth

All those unattainable things.

But if you could have one material item what would it be?

Ruby's Answer

When I moved in here in July 2022 I found a nice meaty bone perfect for small dogs. I still have it but the meat is long gone.

Could I have another one for Christmas?

The Ruby Rose Report: I’m a Lumberjack

 

Last year, when the weather turned cold and dark, my Dad tried to walk me, but I didn’t cooperate. I was at my new home for under six months, and even on the most excellent day, I didn’t want to lose sight of my house, so before Thanksgiving, they had abandoned trying to walk me, and I, like them, spent the winter getting fat and keeping warm.

This spring, it was time for me to get back in harness shape, and I began to walk with my Dad, even venturing past where I could see the house. I kept walking throughout the summer, even on the hottest day. The weather didn’t affect me, but the actual test would be when the days grew short and the temperature shorter.

I usually walked while Mommy made supper, but when the clock all fell, and it broke the daylight, causing the night to come earlier, my walking was moved up to early afternoon. Still, I was game for a walk, taking time to sniff everything I could. The only thing that made me hurry up was having to pee, which I refused to do outside like a squirrel. 

Then, the temperatures dipped below freezing. My Dad bundled up to walk me. Then, my parents began to talk about if I needed one. They went through a cabinet and found a lumberjack jacket that was last worn by River two years ago. I was wearing my everyday collar and walking harness, and now there was a third addition: the lumberjack jackets. I had so much on you would think I was summiting Everest.

At first, I balked at the jacket, but then I found in the pocket some kibble left there by the last time River wore it. Don’t you love it when that happens?

Even with the freezing temperatures and cold wind, and despite my Dad’s hurrying along, I took my time, more bothered by the tight jacket than the cold. 

Frankly, I just wear it to make my Dad not feel like such a pussy for wearing two while I walk long Hutt naked.

I do like the way the lumberjack jacket looks, and I even wrote a poem about it:

“I’m a lumberjack

And I’m okay

I sleep all night and walk all-day

I sniff the grass

I dig the dirt

I roll in piles of leaves

I like to groom myself

So I can feel pretty

 

“I’m a lumberjack

And I’m okay

I sleep all night and walk all-day

I sniff the grass

I dig the dirt

I like to lie under blankets

And get my who who rubbed

 

“I’m a lumberjack

And I’m okay

I sleep all night and walk all-day

I sniff the grass

I dig the dirt

I roll in piles of leaves

And when I get back home to Momma,

I poop and eat my feces

 

“I’m a lumberjack

And I’m okay

I sleep all night and walk all-day

I take slow walks

I sniff everything

I don’t want the walk to end 

I just know my Dad has to pee