How do your parents find names for their pets? Do they make a list of names and decide which one is best, or do they take a look at a pet and know the name instantly or do they stay with the name you had before you became part of their pack?
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Ruby's Answer: My parents take a look at a picture of their future dog and then sit down and make a list that they slowly whittle down until they come to the right name.
As I was walking along the River of Life, I saw a notice nailed to a tree announcing a big band contest with a prize of 100 pounds of bacon for the winner.
I could use 100 pounds of bacon treats and I am a great conductor. I can swish a baton with the best of them. Now I just needed to find my band.
First, I went to Tommy Tune's mansion. He said he could play the drums, but he needed to practice. Freddie buried her head in the pillows and said: “Not the drums again.” Tommy said Freddie could accompany him on the triangle. Reluctantly Freddie began to ding the little instrument. I couldn’t hear it over Tommy’s drumming.
Next, I checked with Hobo, who thought it was a great idea and said he would play the drums. I mentioned that Tommy was going to play the drums, but Hobo insisted that you couldn’t have too many drums.
I saw my friend Geordie leaving the art museum and asked him if he could play anything but the drums. He said he had always been a good singer, but then began howling out of tune.
If Geordie was going to sing, we would need more drums.
I saw Odie the Great Dane and my sister Pocket the Yorkie practicing their dancing, and I asked if they wanted to perform at the competition, and they both jumped at the opportunity. Odie jumped much further than Pocket. The Great Dane and little Yorkie began to dance perfectly. They could save the show.
I checked with other friends like Max, Easy, AJ, and Toby, who all wanted to play the drums. “It’s the only thing we can play without opposable thumbs,” Max told me. He had a point.
We were practicing loudly, sounding like a deaf marching band, none on the neat, when Hattie and Lily came in and insisted they sing back up. I told them we had Geordie and he couldn’t be heard over the drumming. They looked at me impatiently. I introduced them as the new singers.
The day of the competition came and Foley’s All Drums orchestra hit the stage. I held up my baton and told them to play. It sounded beautiful. Pocket and Odie danced perfectly and the singers were pitch-perfect. When they were done I turned to the audience, who sat confused, with only one polite dog clapping. I had heard the love for my friends in their playing, but everyone heard a bunch of banging and howling.
We didn’t win, but the band had heard what I did, and we were all happy. Because love has its language and tune.
I am glad my mind interpreted the song differently than was heard because the Bridge Gazette stated that four angels had seizures caused by our singing, and others still have ringing in their ears.
As always, when I am with my friends, I am the lucky one.
I spend a lot of time during the day snuggled on Mommy’s lap. So when nighttime comes and the house lights go out, sometimes I am filled with energy. I slip out of bed and walk around the house until I tire.
Occasionally, I hear our crawl space cat, Dora, listening to music and smoking a late-night catnip cigarette. I have just decided to tolerate her presence since my efforts to remove her have failed. During my late-night romp, we swapped stories.
I barked at her to say hello, then asked if she had any good stories. She did, about her grandmother born in that long-ago time called 2021. She was a house cat who was a bit finicky. The only food she would eat is Friskies seafood melody with shrimp. One day, a tragedy occurred. The cupboard was bare.
Her mother knew how the cat, Olympia, acted when she didn’t get fed the correct food, and she did not want to go through that hell again. The mom came back with groceries two hours later. She emptied the bags Olympia jumped on the table and waited until she had finished. There was no Friskies seafood melody with shrimp anywhere to be seen.
Olympia wailed in sorrow.
“I am sorry Olympia,” the mom said, “but they were out of your food.” Olympia stared at her. “And yes,” the mom continued, "I went to other stores, Hannaford’s, Big Y, Piggly Wiggly, and Menard's, none of them have it so you are going to have to settle for what I give you.”
Olympia rolled over and stretched.
“I can’t go to stores out of town, I have work to do, I need to make the kid’s and John’s dinner, and I am tired. I will check the other stores in the morning.”
Olympia whined.
“I don’t know what to do,” Olympia’s mom pleaded with her. Olympia sat up and then looked upstairs at the bedroom
“You wouldn’t,” the mom said. “John’s brother and I were in our bedroom when he was at work because there was a sticky window.” Olympia purred but it sounded like a chuckle.
Olympia’s mom turned on the cat. “You aren’t telling John anything. You open your mouth and I will kick you out to, I swear.” Olympia licked her paw and cleaned her whiskers. “All right!” his mom yelled. “Fine!” she scribbled a note to her husband. “I’ll find your damn food, even if I have to drive three states over, I can’t stand your damn mind games any longer.”
She returned three hours late having found the required food at a Bodega deep in the city. She opened the can, put the food in a disk, and served it to Olympia, who took one sniff, and walked away, leaving her mom sobbing on her knees in the kitchen,”\ I had to admit, that was a good story. I was ready to sleep now.
Don’t be hasty in getting rid of a freeloading feral on your property.
They have great stories.
This week's inspiration from the Two Spoiled Cats
When Tommy was born his parents thought he was a fine young buck
And they could not believe their luck
The boy was filled with spirit and pluck
Then he began to upchuck.
They took Tommy to the doc
To see if there was a block
The doctor said they needed to talk
And said it would pass, then to pay him they had to sell stock.
They didn’t take Tommy out for half a year
And the vomiting stopped so they thought he was in the clear
As Tommy’s grandma's birthday grew near
At it they decided to appear
They made sure Tommy had nothing in his belly
Not even his favorite beans made of jelly
They didn’t want him to have a diaper most smelly
Or to vomit that looked like Gol Gappa from New Delhi
To Tommy’s grandmom’s they did go
And he looked so happy it was likee he was aglow
He even at some mashed potato
When he was done his dad saw him and said “Look out he’s going to blow.”
He threw up on the table
He threw up on grannie’s sable
He threw up on the rug
He threw up on cousin Doug
He threw up on the cat
He threw up in Grandpa’s hat
He threw up his on aunt Sue
If you were there he would have thrown up on you too
Tommy was brought home and put to bed
Then his parents collapsed on the couch like they were dead
They wished they had listened to their Uncle Fred
Who told them this would happy to a baby what was inbred
Have you ever broken damaged or chewed anything in the house?
Ruby's Answer: I have never chewed, ripped up, or broke anything in the house. I did, by continually press my forehead to the mesh part of my stroller until the zipper broke and I could stick my head out.
Parents know throughout their lives that they are going to outlive us, and when we pass their big hearts are crushed over and over again, as they wish that we could have lived a longer life.
But as they transition from seniors to super seniors, their attitude changes, and now they want to outlive us, especially humans who live alone.
When their hearts have healed after the loss, our parents start looking for another dog to join our family.
But there isn't a place to acquire new people on the Internet, at least not older ones.
What happens to us can be more worrisome for parents than their own fates. . If they pass away, we lose everything that made our lives perfect, and there is little chance that we will find a loving family.
Here is a story with a happy ending.
Ollie was my favorite kind of dog: a Yorkie, who lived in a city named after his breed, for 14 and a half years with his beloved owner. She was an only human and he was an only dog. Ollie's longevity seemed like a blessing until his mom got sick, had to go to a hospice, and could not take him with her. He found himself away from the home and the woman he loved. The staff at the West Yorkshire Dog Rescue had seen dogs like this before, and often they have lost their reason for living. They would have to find the depressed Ollie a new family quickly. There must have been some powerful angels on Ollie’s side because a bungalow was found for him immediately.
Amy and Liam were looking for an older dog that would match the temperament of their eight-year-old Labrador, Barney. In a dream, a previous dog of theirs told them about Ollie. The next morning, they were immediately drawn to Ollie's profile and fell in love with his face and story. They enjoyed spending time outdoors and traveling, and Ollie's previous owner had told the shelter that he was an excellent traveler.
When Ollie met Amy, Liam, and Barney, it was love at first sight. The workers knew they belonged together, and in no time, Ollie had found his new family. Amy said he fit into the family seamlessly.
Ollie is now running with Barney on the beach and acting young again, loving his new family with his mom’s blessing.
There aren’t many happy stories of what happens when a parent outlives their pups, so we have to celebrate the ones that have a happy ending.
I was gathering questions for my Ask Miss Ruby blog when I found one with the heading: “They are eating the dogs.”
It was signed by Jethro Dumbledore from Ohio. I contacted him via dreams and he told me that Martians were eating the dogs and cats of Springfield. Jethro Dumbledore said they need a dog like me, small, lean, mean, and unappetizing.
Using Foley’s secret codes I uploaded myself to Ground Zero of the pet-eating scandal, Springfield Ohio, where I was met by Jethro Dumbledore and I ordered him to take me to the Martians.
“They’re Haitians,” Jethro said.
They must be some Martian splinter group, but it made no difference, they needed to be stopped.
We saw them standing on a street corner. They didn’t look like aliens to me, and they weren’t cooking pets. A dog was lying at a Hatians's feet. I wondered if the man was Hanibal Lecter having the dog over for dinner. I asked the dog if he was about to be eaten and the dog laughed. “Don’t be silly, these people are very kind to dogs, I am well taken care of, and they make sure I eat before them.”
“Probably fattening it up,” Jethro Dumbledore said. Then he yelped and pointed: “There is one eating dog now.”
“Where, next to the Haitian eating a foot long?”
“Oh my God!” Jethro Dumbledore exclaimed, “They are eating pigs!”
I tried to assure him that eating [pig was normal behavior. “What about the cats, they are being stolen and eaten.”
Behind us, a cat scoffed. “We won’t let them touch us, never mind eat us,” it said, then spat at us. “Tourists!!”
I was prepared to tell Jethro, who was, apparent to me now, not the sharpest dog in the kennel, that he had been duped when Jethro began sniffing.
“I smell them cooking geese, owls, and chickens.”
“There’s a Popeye’s on the corner.”
“I didn’t know Popeye’s Haitian,” Jethro said dumbfounded.
“He’s not, who filled your head with these crazy,” I asked.
“I saw it on TV.”
‘Someone said they had their pet stolen on TV?”
“Well, no. I saw a man say he saw a person who knows a person who had a friend whose pet was taken.”
My friend Jethro Dumbledore, who had created a huge controversy over nothing, was simple-minded, uninformed, and easily led astray. His fears of being removed from his family and sent to the Bridge were strong and were exploited.
So please, dogs and cats, don’t listen to what comes out of the TV, and make sure your parents don’t either, or it will surely cause unrest.
(No dogs or cats were eaten during the production of this blog._
This week's inspiration from the Two Spoiled Cats
My name is Tweedle Dee and with me is Tweedle Dum
Two kittens whose lives are nothing but fun
And if you are wondering how come
Its because we live with a childless cat mom
When mom was young she did not want it that way
She wasn't barron, sick, or Gay
She was told her prince would come one day
But no one came to ask her to love honor or obey.
But she has never been alone in her one room flat
Which she has always shared with a least one cat
And she always gave thanks that
She didn’t have an issue with a mouse or rat.
She was always kind to her neighbor’s kids
She gave them treats and when other sought in her place they hid
She was loved at work for all she did
And anyone messing with her was strictly forbid.
She may not have had kids, or a man, but she was content
The cars filled with with love and kept her heart from turning to cement
Not a second of her life did she regret
Until one day a man in the suit made her heart descent
He said being childless made her life worthless
And she began to think of her life she had made a mess
But we reminded her she had certainly earned God’s bless
And loving others, no matter the species made life a success
The man who made the comment about cat lady’s was just wanting to be mean
And the love Mom has for he cats has been, by him, unseen
But we cats know the moms who devote their lives to pets are Queens
And those that hurt them could only be elected king of the latrine
My Dad was in a pet store this weekend. A young couple brought in a tiny kitten they have found alone on a sidewalk and wanted to keep. There was a vet on site who was asked if they could give the cat a once over and the vet refused saying the new parents would have to make an appointment and pay. They agreed. The six-week old kitten had ear mites, fleas and worms. The parents were given a prescription for the worms and mites. A person who worked in the store said he would show the couple where the milk replacement were and the female owner said she didn't need it, she had frozen breast milk in the freezer. She was told it was not the right kind of milk for a cat, but the woman said it would be fine.
So, here is my question: Have your parents known anyone who were such bad pet owner that your parents feared for the pet?
So....Sometimes Moms go the the Bridge first.
I guess I knew this. MacDougal's Dad went to the Bridge before he did. That makes me sad. I don't want my Dad to go anywhere. But MacDougal's Mom is still giving him a great life. In the last year, he has seen half the world.
But I never thought about Moms going first. I can't think about my Mom going first. It would be like the Earth disappearing beneath my feet and I would just fall, fall, fall, for the rest of my days, until I landed once again in her tender arms.
But yesterday Sota's and Freddy's Mom Gina went to the Bridge first. She had contracted that bad C disease and it took her long before any of us were ready to let her go.
I have spent many blogs comforting Moms who have lost their pups, but I don't know what to say to a pup who lost their Mom. I search under everything but can't find the words. Maybe they're behind that damn Christmas tree Mommy put up in the dining room. I think I can't find the words because they scare me. If I didn't have my Mom...I'd rather be at the Bridge with her than here without her.
My friends Sota and Freddy, I don't have a lot of experience here. I believe though, that, if you use your sniffer's extra strong, you will be able to smell her wherever you go, if you use those alert ears of yours with wonderful sensitivity, you will hear her voice; if you awake and you feel a warmth next to you, it will be her body. I think you have an unbreakable bond that not even death can break. You are a dog and Mom. What could be stronger?
I know lots of our human parents are working on finding a good home for you. I heard Tommy Tunes's wonderful Dad say he would take Freddy. Oh, it will be so good to be able to keep up with her. I just wanted to say you were very good friends to all of us here. Sota, if you don't go to one of our families we will miss you. We pray you find a Mom as equally good as yours. I can't imagine you finding a better one. Good luck, goodbye, my friend. Your hearts will always be filled with our love.
And Pepsi, don't feel guilty about being the happiest Pup at the Bridge. Although we have all been crying here since yesterday morning the thought of your reunion with your heart Mom makes us swell with such joy. Your two hearts have been linked as one again. Although I know, without your earthly typist, we won't be able to talk anymore, and this breaks our hearts, we know you are with your beloved, and your page will be here forever on the Tanner Brigade where we can stop by and tell you how much we love you, even when we know you can't answer.
I can't remember the first time I spoke with Pepsi. Mommy remembers her last comment to her on Human Book. She always was trying to make her smile. Pepsi's Mom was very sick from the chemo. Mommy said she would send Willie Nelson with lots of pot for her. She doesn't know if it made her smile. She doesn't even know if she read it. I am staying close to Mom today. We both very much wish we could make her laugh one more time.
I remember, back on DS, Pepsi's Mom would talk about the problems she was having with her life: her divorce, having to find a new place to live, splitting up her pups. Mommy didn't want her to leave the house, and neither did lots of Moms, but she did. She seemed to spend a lot of time swimming against the tide but she always managed to keep her head above water. The first comment we can remember making to her was when Pepsi was very excited over something and we told her not to get too shaken up or she would fizz over.
Sometimes we didn't see eye to eye with Pepsi and her Mom. There were things some folks did that we couldn't forgive. But Pepsi and her Mom Gina always could. "Why does she have anything to do with him?" we would ask. The more we got to know her, the more we understood, it was because, even if she couldn't see it, she believed there was good in people, and she never gave up believing that.
When we formed the Brigade she joined us and fought nobly. She was always there with a kind word when one of us was sick or had passed, she could usually raise a smile with a sharp comment, and always put the funniest, most non-sensequel tags on her blogs.
I have never seen a person's life erode like Pepsi's Mom. First, she got diagnosed with stomach cancer. Then, too ill to properly watch playful little Pepsi, her heart dog got into something she shouldn't have eaten, and the damage she did was too much. Pepsi went to Rainbow Bridge just when her Mom needed her the most.
I don't know many Mommies who could carry on after all this, and yet Pepsi's Mom Gina still did. Cancer was with her everywhere she went. It brought pain, nausea, weight loss, loss of energy, and the end of everything that made her life her life. But she still fought. My Mom gave her some advice from a song called Wrecking Ball. Don't let go of your anger and don't give in to your fear. She never did either.
Even in her darkest moments Gina always apologized; and questioned if it was appropriate to post what she wondered would be seen as whining, and despite our many responses to the contrary, that doubt always lingered in her mind. We always tried to make her smile. She once asked us if people were laughing with her or at her. We assured her it was with her. No one would laugh at her, lest they get a fist full of Gina in their mouth.
In her last posting on Humanbook she said she wanted some real food for Thanksgiving. I don't think she got her wish. She was brought to a hospice, slipped into a coma, and died Saturday morning. Her eyes were donated so someone else could see, one last generous act and I wonder how that lucky recipient will see the world through Gina's eyes.
At least that person will have a small piece of her. Special thanks to Matilda's Mom Nancy who got the sad word Saturday and shared it with us; and Koly and Felix's Mom Jodi who has worked hard all weekend to find homes for her two left-behind pups.
For a pup who didn't think she had a lot of words to express on the subject I certainly have used a lot, haven't I? That was the thing about Pepsi's Mom Gina. On the surface, you would think there would only be a few words needed to describe her, but when you were done, you found there weren't enough.
I leave you with the words of someone else. I think to those who knew her you will find them fitting. And when we look up into the sky tonight there will be two stars, one a little larger than the other, and they will be Pepsi and Gina, shining a light on us.
Goodnight my friend.
As soon as the weather turns colder they invade, taking positions in yards, in front of fences, or gardens. They are made of straw, with fixed expressions of terror on their faces standing as still as Beefeater. I am the only one who can see them. I am certainly the only one bothered.
They arrive in their spaceships, which take the form of pumpkins and are always nearby in case they need to flee. Some of them announce their intentions with horrific faces carved into their ships. The most outrageous of them even leave a fire burning in their them, or, if they are being economical, an orange light.
While we sleep they go on their killing rampage, either taking the lives of humans, as evidenced by the skeletons they leave rotting in the yard, the straw that the victims that were once their brethren is strewn about as a warning to others.
I have been studying them to learn their wicked ways. I believe, when they age, they shrivel up so small they are put into plant holders, at least the females, because they call the potted plants their mums.
What kind of race puts their mums in planters?
They are growing in nummers. They incubate in the hay, tightly compacted bales, that they keep nearby too, until they need reinforcements.
We can take action against their bodies but it will not stop them because their brains can exist outside their bodies in units they call gourds.
They feed off our vegetation and can eviscerate our trees leaving nothing but stalks that they again, show of as a warning to the other trees that resistance is futile. The same is true of corn. Their kernels are turned into different colors, and hung on doors, for the scarecrows to eat.
When they conquer a land they hang their flags on front doors. They are shaped as wreaths composed of brown, orange and red leaves and flowers. They are a signal. If you come to this house we will knock the stuffing out of you.
The invasion will continue until the end of October, at which point they will get into their pumpkins and leave, before the invasion of snowmen, reindeers, and Santa.
And people will continue to turn a blind eye to the invasion.
But not us dogs, we are always on patrol, barking our warnings, even if our parents tell us it is nothing.
We know better.
It is time for another Poetry Thursday hosted by TWO SPOILED CATS. Here is the photo they provided for inspiration.
Horatio spun the perfect spider’s web
He was sure the be an arachnoid celeb
But before his fame could rise and ebb
A little boy destroyed it with a plastic sword while playing Johnny Web
Revenge is something Horatio needed to do
And he found a friend who could chew
An army of termites attacked the home eating it down to the last screw
Hortaio said: “Destroy my house I will destroy yours too.”
The father was furious his house was destroyed by insects
And hired a construction crew for his project
They tore down trees, ripped up flower beds which his neighbors did protest
And then, to keep all bugs out he covered the ground with cement
The insects sought their revenge through the air.
And soon the family was living a nightmare
Bees in the chimney, hornets in the vents, and settling everywhere
Then they swarmed, attacked and drove the family out in their unwear
The father was beyond mad
His family had to live with granddad.
And in a move straight out of Stalingrad
He bombed the family plot until no breathing creature could survive not even a crawdad
The effects of the war caused the neighbors to sue
And the dad was arrested, a payment to society was due
The neighborhood was a place no one would walk through
Except for one creature, high in a broken tree, enjoying the view
Horatio had spun a new abode
And when it came to catching insects it was the mother lode
And if there is something to be learned from this episode
Its that when man fights nature a win for nature will always be bestowed
I am sorry Larry, but you jumped the fence, you got her pregnant, and marrying her is the honorable thing to do.
What is the protein in your food and treats?
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Ruby's Answer: Lamb for my kibble, chicken for my wet food, and bacon for my treats
Let me tell you, as your faithful dog correspondent on both sides of the River of Life for 16 years, do not try to figure out what a dog wan...
