A Foley Monster Tales From Rainbow Bridge Flashback: November 9, 2009 - Gina

 

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.

The Ruby Rose Report: The Scarecrow Invasioin

 

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.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

I am sorry Larry, but you jumped the fence, you got her pregnant, and marrying her is the honorable thing to do.

Monday Question

 What is the protein in your food and treats?

Ruby's Answer: Lamb for my kibble, chicken for my wet food, and bacon for my treats 

Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Chimp Crazy (The Chimp's side)

 

There are not too many killers at the Bridge. All those who did so in the line of duty, or the protection of another, are. Those who kill for their purposes are either not allowed, or sentenced to wander on the other side of the river, between two worlds, not belonging to one side or the other.

But sometimes, those who are driven to madness, and take the life of, or injure an innocent are allowed to cross over.

Hopefully, they are forgotten over time, but others have their pasts dredged up, and, even from the Bridge, they want to clear their name.

So they hire an attorney, and often it is me. 

I had to meet with my client at his home which meant I had to go into the jungle, where Travis lived, It was fitting he did. He never got to live there when he was on the mortal side.

Travis was born in captivity and sold to a woman in Stamford Connecticut for six figures. He became a local legend, playing with visitors, and going to other houses and businesses. But, as he aged, he began to rebel, which caused him to be violent, and caged to protect his mom, her guests, and himself. 

For the rest of the story, and why he needed representation I would need to go into the jungle.

I had to meet up with river men and be taken on a perilous journey. I arrived on an island with millions of chimps, monkeys, and other species. I didn’t think I would find Travis until I heard a chimp voice saying my name. 

A meaty hand grabbed me by the collar and pulled me onto a branch.

I admit, it was both the closest I had been to a killer and a chimp.
“I shouldn’t have been kept in a cage,” Travis said. “How can you love something that you lock up all the time? One day they let me out to play with a lady, and when she went to stick me back in the cage I panicked and by the time I knew what was happening the woman had no face or hands, and my police officer friend had a gone on me. I pleaded with him to put me out of my misery and he did. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just got tired of that cage.”

I told him that animal lovers to understand, and don’t blame him, and I would make sure the filmmakers wouldn’t either, And, he was safe at the Bridge because all those in power there know animals never do wrong unless provoked by humans.

And they know nothing that is loved should ever be left in a cage. 

The Ruby Rose Report: My Morning Routine

 

I had a visit from Foley in my dreams, which is never a good thing. Foley doesn't just come by to say hi

"I've read your Ask Miss Ruby blog and your postingd about the gardens, but our audience wants to know about you."

I was afraid of this.

The truth is, I lead a boring, average life. Every morning occurs the following way.

I wake up and eat at 6:45 AM. I try to scurry further down the bed, but my dad, the early riser, blindly reaches in to find me under the covers. Sometimes I sleep on my back, with my head near the foot of the bed, which leads to Daddy accidentally touching my nether regions. It does wake me up. He, being an overly polite man, apologizes. It's like getting wake-up service at Trump Tower.

I reluctantly climb out of bed, and then lay down on the rug by the door. I have never done my business outside, preferring to do it on the pads in the laundry room. I do feel for my fellow dogs who are flushed outside in the cold and wet to perform like circus freaks in a bus station bathroom. Because of this, I am in no hurry to relieve myself

Daddy goes in the bedroom, he says, to do his exercises, but when I look under the door he’s lying on the floor doing eyelids raising and lowering exercises. Then he showers while Mommy cleans the kitchen and I sit on my perch on the back of the couch.

When he comes out it is breakfast time. My parents eat while I sit on the floor waiting for my treats. I don’t want what they eat, I want my bacon treats, and they must be cut into small squares. If they aren’t I refuse to eat them. And get this: They stop eating and cut my treats to the proper size. That is how much control I have over these people. I promise I will never use the power for evil.

After they are done it is time for me to eat: I have kibble, with a small amount of water, lightly heated, with refrigerated human-like wet food. It is served, and I have my collar removed because if the tags hit my bowl I get distracted and stop eating.

Then, and only then, do I relieve myself.

And that is my typical morning.

Foley tells me I am spoiled, but I don’t see it.

Poetry Thursday

 

It is time for another Poetry Thursday hosted by TWO SPOILED CATS.  Here is the photo they provided for inspiration. 

Chad’s mom had warned him that the sweepers were working and not to park on the street

On every Tuesday the city did repeat

Chad felt he was being browbeat

He wasn’t stupid, he was a varsity athlete

The next Tuesday morn he did oversleep

And did not hear when the large vehicle came to sweep

After noon he work up with a leap

And saw they had towed every car, truck and jeep

Chad needed to get his car back before he had to face his mom’s fury

She would convict his as both Judge and Jury

He called his friend Ryan and said “Can you help me?

If not the worst thing will happen: I will have to give my mom an apology.

Ryan drove Chad to the junk yard

Upon arrival Chad jumped out and inquired to a man who looked hard

To pay any fine Chad had the number of his mother’s credit card

But the man said something that left him jarred

Chad saw his car had been crushed and stacked.

And he thought: “That’s wack.”

Chad insisted he be given his car back

Then dragged the cat back to his cul-de-sac

It had no windows

There was no keeping out the snow

Nor tires, doors, no way for the car to go

He hoped his mom wouldn’t notice in her quest for an evening merlot.

His mother got home, stormed up the stairs and said “what happened to the car?”

He looked out the window and said “that’s bizarre.

Say mom tonight can I use your car, I won’t go far

Just back and forth to the bar.”

i

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat this Caption

 

I don't care. I can do this all day. Now, which one of you hid Mr Penguin?

Monday Question

 What do your parents think you do better than any of thier other pets?

My parents say I walk on a lead better than any other dog they have had

Foley's Tails From Rainboiw Bridge: Too Big to Fly

 

"All animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others. I have to admit, that dogs have benefited from this inequity. Part of it is being adorable, and part is having the best publicists in the animal world: Our humans. But some animals even have better publicists than over-the-moon-in-love pet parents. When the United States was becoming a country, the founding fathers needed a spirit animal. It seemed like a lot of work, so many of us declined, but the bald eagle saw a way to elevate itself from being just another bird. The eagle’s presentation worked, and it was chosen as the symbol for what seemed to be a dead-end, short-lived country. 

Somehow, mostly because for two centuries Americans did nothing but roll sevens, it became the greatest country in the world, and the eagle was protected more than Taylor Swift at an Ecuadorian cookout. When a wild eagle was found unable to fly at the Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield, it sent the Missouri Department of Conservation workers into a panic. They could not be responsible for losing the symbol of a strong and thriving nation. They ran tests, they talked to doctors, and they prayed. 

The big guy assigned the prayer to me. At first, I declined. My family and friends keep me very busy. But the big guy said he needed his best angel to fix this. I don’t know how he got to be the big guy, but knowing when to dole out a compliment to get someone to do his business must be one of them.

 I flew down to meet the eagle. He seemed like a nice bird, not angry and self-important like many eagles I have met. I brought Mordecai, an owl angel who has learned medicine since coming to the bridge. He looked the eagle over and reached a conclusion: 'The bird is too fat,' Mordecai said. 'He has eaten too much. He’s rolly-polly. He’s got too much junk in the trunk. If this was Thanksgiving, he could feed a family of six and have enough left over for sandwiches.'”

The eagle admitted he had had a tough time pushing himself away from the squirrel bar. He promised to do better. But, for now, he needed help, knowing he had a bunch of tests in front of him, and scared of what upcoming tests would do. He asked if there was anything he could do. 

'You can fart, yes?' Mordecai asked. The eagle said yes. 'Then you must fart to fly!' The eagle was embarrassed. 'It’s that or get plucked to lose weight.' The eagle began to fart, and with each one, he got a little more off the ground, when finally he let out noxious gas and lifted off like a Thrust SCC. He was cured. 

Mordecai shook his head. 'If they wanted a symbol that can get off the ground no matter how fat, they should have got a turkey. They can fly with a full load in their feathers.'

` I could not disagree.