Poetry Thursday: Choose Kindness

 

My good friends the Two Spoiled Cats’ humans went to Maine for a week, so we don’t have a photo to inspire us this week, so I am going to publish one of my own poems: “Choose KIndness.” It is something I hope all American voters will do on Tuesday when they elected a President.

This election season has been a grind

Its enough to make a Griffon lose her tiny mind

So when you choose the next person to lead mankind

Please consider picking the one who will be kind

While it may seem like we need someone to rule through hate and fear’

That we have no tolerance for those who are black, brown, or queer

We need to remember when our ancestors arrived after a hellacious trip they had to persevere

They were never met by the tip of a spear.

I know this country has more problems them an honest main can bear

And there are people who llve in despair

Thinking in only terms of hate will get us nowhere

So try kindness, the kind you find in a prayer

Hate is never right

Hate leads to violence and a fight

Hate is usually leads to plight

Hate is the devil’s delight

Kindness is never wrong

Ir causes everyone to get along

It put dances in you feet and in your heart a song

KIndness seems weak but it is really strong

If you vote for kindness you won’t regret it

Kindness never makes you a hypocrite

Kindness makes you never feel like a misfit

Kindness is always legit

So please choose kindness when you vote

 Find then kindness candidate to promote

To the evil in the world kindness is the antidote

And in bad weather kindness gives you a lifeboat.

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Despite his unique rhino and peacock heritage Herb the Rhinocock did not impress Larry the Duck

T

Monday Question

 What is your exercise routine?

Five days a week, in the spring, summer and six weeks in the fall I go for a walk around the block before supper? After that my walks are sporadic because I don't do winter.

Several times a day I get down from the furniture to walk into the kitchen for water, treats, and I don't remember why.

I rise up from all fours, stand by the kitchen window and do loud barking exercises.

When food is served I stand up and walk backward burning several calories I quickly obtain back when I eat. 

I jump on to the recliner, and the sofa, by myself, unless I don't feel like,  then I stand in front of the piece of furniture looking pathetic it, until I am lifted up.

I, unassisted jump from the couch cushions to the back of the sofa, unless I don't feel like it and just lie down on the cushions.

I vigorously lick my Dad's face transferring excess calories to him. I don't do it with my Mon: She doesn't like extra calories.

I eat quickly because it makes the calories fall on to the dish. Also eating quickly is good cardio Daschle exercise.

Don't pretend you're not impressed. I am going to lie down on the couch but only if someone picks me up.

The Ruby Rose Report: Goin' Back

I go for walks with my Dad while Mommy makes supper, but with the approaching dark and cold, they will soon take place in the early afternoon, if at all, because the first part of my walk, is more than a drag.

I don’t like going for a walk. My Dad says I have to, because it will keep the weight off, and it is important, at least for a little time, for me to act like a dog.

I don’t see why. I prefer to live like a content sloth, going from bed in the morning, to the back of the couch, then eating breakfast, climbing on the recliner for the day, eating supper, getting back in the chair, then going to bed, where, for a half hour, I do act like a dog, chewing a before bedtime bone, then it is off to sleep so I can start again.

There are breaks in my routine: I climb off the recliner and go to my mat to play with my toys, and as I wait for supper, Daddy goes to the front room, with the big rug, and if the mood strikes me I might run off what little energy I have with a series of zooms. 

But that’s enough. I don’t want to work up a pant.

When forced to walk, I sing this ditty, hoping that I will be home before the coda.

Here it is.

I want to go back

Back then I was comfortable in my house

I want to return to

The days when I could stay in bed and sleep well past noon.

Now I go on walks

Being dragged most of the time

I don’t like sniffing the grass or finding hills to climb

But sleeping late and growing fatter is no sin

Life is not a game, you don’t need to win

I can recall a time

When I was afraid to leave the yard

But now I’m made to walk

A lot more than down the end of the driveway

There’s a lot to do

On my nightly constitutionals around the block

But I would rather watch nature on the app called Tiki Tok

I am told it is bad to give in to your fears

But when you do you live for many more years

If you want to walk

Please take the lead

I’d rather be lying down on my comfortable bed

With you, I’ll walk to the end of the driveway

And then I’ll be going back

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Bear

 

Bear was a dog who got dealt a bad hand.

He was born to a family who had no love to spare. His sprint time tied up, in the worst weather. He was friendless and loveless.

His favorite activity was watching the dogs at a neighbor's house who were living a life Bear could only dream about. He befriended one of them, named Sandy, a big-hearted pup. He did not like how Bear was treated. He talked to his parents’ previous dogs, now angels, about their family taking in Bear. The next day, spurned by angels, and it and it will not, his dad offered Bear’s owners a hundred dollars, which the heartless man too. Bear was led by his new dad to his new home. Bear was so happy he swore, on the first night, to never be a burden to his new family, and to be the best boy.

And he was that and more. When Sandy went to the Bridge he silently supported his mom, and, despite being heartbroken, he did the same when his dad went to the Bridge.

In the early fall, Bear knew he was running out of steam. But, he hid what was wrong. He didn’t want his mom to spend money on vet visits and tests, or watch as he slowly faded away. Bear held back the pain, and the maladies, as long as he could.

Last week he could fight no more.

He knew he was living on choppy seas, but was unprepared for the rogue wave that hit him.  His heart went from 33 rpms to 78. He began to pant. He knew it was time for the Big Ride. He turned down food, lay down, and found himself floating in the River of Life while his tearful mom held the body that had served Bear well, heartbroken at his sudden departure.8

Bear crossed the Bridge and saw a house. He went to it, sniffing the flowers. Then a man’s shadow covered him. “I’ll give your owner a hundred dollars to let you come with me,” Bear’s dad said. His favorite dog looked up, smiled, and jumped on his dad’s chest giving him 1,000 kisses. They were joined by Sandy and the other family angels having entered his true forever home.

That night Sandy and Bear their mom’s dreams, of which she would not remember. She has five miles to go to get through the grief, and the dual angels moved her only inches closer, but it's a start, and Momma Lea won’t have to walk it alone. Nikki will be with her when she is awake, and her angels in her dreams. 

Poetry Thursday

 

For the first time, I am taking part in Brian’s Thankful Thursday.

I have not participated before because I am thankful for everything.

I am thankful to live in a quiet, snuggly house.

I am thankful my Mom did all her work before I arrived so she could spend her day with me.

I am thankful that her sworn enemy Arthur Righteous makes it hard for her to walk so she barely leaves the house.

I am thankful that my parents, when they can, take me with them, in the car.

I am thankful there is enough slack in the tether that holds me in the back seat so I can stand on the center console and see where we are going.

I am thankful for the rocks on my walk where dogs leave me pee mails.

I am thankful for my pee pads because I don’t have to go outside to do my business and can stay in a temperature-controlled environment while performing my duties.

I am thankful I can pee and poop on my schedule and don’t have to stand outside on a cold and wet morning with wet paws as one of my parents insist I do my duties because they don’t understand that such conditions expand my bladder and tightens my sphincter.

I am thankful that when you read this somewhere in the world someone will be eating a personal pan pizza and will be for eternity because, with the possible exception of some items on a Denny’s menu personal pan pizzas can survive a nuclear attack.

I am thankful that I can sleep in the big, warm, comfortable bed.

I am thankful that I earned the right to sleep on the big bed by spending two weeks sleeping in my crate without complaining, which is 87 years in dog time.

I am thankful I have been spade so I am not driven mad when I go into heat; such madness is the only way we lollipops would consent to do the nasty with a dirty boy who rudely presses down on our spines while doing unspeakable things to us.

I am thankful for my online friends who I have learned so much.

I am thankful to Brian for inspiring this blog.

I am thankful that, if I feel to list more things I am thankful for, Brian will give me a platform to do so. 

Beat the Caption

 

 "I'm telling you Timmy fell down the well.The water is rushing in.

Are you going to just sit there you stone hearted bastard?"

THE DAY JAKE FLUNKED FIRST RESPONDER SCHOOL

Monday Question

 A question for your parents.

Have you ever been bitten or scratched by a pet?Mommy has been lucky. The worst she has received is a scratch.

When Daddy was a boy he got bit on the hand by his own dog trying to break up a fight

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: RIver and the Angry Monkey

 

Pocket and I are blessed with classic Yorkie faces. When our faces are at rest, the hair by our mouth curves upward, giving the appearance we are smiling.

Our sister, River, is the opposite. She is a Griffon, and her mouth is frozen in a downturn. She has lived her life with a resting bitch face.

This doesn’t mean that Pocket and I are always happy, or that River is perpetually angry. 

But sometimes our personality becomes our face.

Especially when we see it reflected in another.

Two days ago we awoke to see a monkey sitting on a rock. It seemed an ordinary simian, but it had, like River, a resting bitch face.

I walked outside and asked if I could help him.  

“That would be nice, I’ve been sitting here all morning. I am  here to see River  Song, because I have a resting bitch face, and she is our queen.’”

That was all that River needed more delusions to feed her grandeur. 

I woke her up, which is always a risky proposition. Whoever first said to let sleeping dogs lie was a Griffon owner. River groaned and said she didn’t want to get up, but a frowning monkey on a rock piqued her curiosity.

River walked outside, and the monkey stood up. “At last the one who understands what it is like to spend all day frowning.”

River put a paw on the monkey's leg to calm him. “You have to look at your face as a blessing. Souls like her,” she gestured to me dismissively  “have to be happy all the time. It must be exhausting. But we frowners can be in a bad mood from dust ‘til dawn, which is much easier.  No one forced themselves to act angry, but being happy is work.

I was going to tell River that it was an oversimplification of my emotions but she struck a chord. 

Was I trying to be happy all the time? Sometimes I am grumpy too. But no one takes me seriously, Damn this resting happy face.

I listened to Ruby and the monkey happily complaining about their existence at the Bridge. They did not have to guard their words. It was blissful.

Pocket came outside and I asked if she was ever in a bad mood,

“Why would I, with a face like mine, what is there to  be unhappy about?”

Now I was jealous of both my sisters, Pocket for being innocent, and River for being grumpy.

Nowadays being happy and smart doesn’t pay. 

:

The. Ruby Rose Report; Green beans, Green beans, freaking Green beans

I have been trying to do two things simultaneously, lose weight, and not eat any less.

The word my groomer used to describe me was a “little chunky.” She got neither a tip, nor a good review on “YIP” the dog social media site.

She said if part of my food was replaced with green beans I would shed the needed pound of two in no time.

I have never eaten green beans. I wasn’t sure if I would like them. So, I visited my angel sisters for advice.

“I had the same problem,” River said, “and I got fed green beans, which I thought were great. I lost weight and got to eat more food.”

“I didn’t like them,” Pocket said. “They were gross, slimy, and smelled bad. It turned my digestion into a big green puddle, which looked like kryptonite, and caused Superman to send an email to us saying he considered our house a no fly zone.”

“I wouldn’t eat them,” Foley said. “Like a high priced escort I am careful about what I put in my mouth, but you shouldn’t care. You eat your own poop.”

So what? When you eat poop you just digest it without putting on any weight. It is a guilt free snack (unless you are shamed when eating poop). I told my sisters that I didn’t think I needed to lose weight.

“Parents worry about having  fat pooch,” Foley explained. “They are worried that people will think they are bad parents if they are seen walking a fat dog.” I inquired why. “Because they think people who walk a fat dog are bad parents.”

“It works the same way with us.” River said. “Whenever I see a dog walking with a fat parent, I tell them to keep pulling so their humans get their exercise.”

“Before a human invests in a no pull collar they should check out their ass. The dog could be pulling to keep their parents from dropping dead, and the dog homeless.”

I could have listened to them all night but morning came, and I got my first few green beans.

I took one taste and spit it out. Vile weed. They tried to chop it, dice it, mince it, and hide it in meat, but it stuck out like toe clippings in a salad. After one meal they gave up.

I guess I am going to have to walk more.

It would help if my parents became fat, then I would be walking to save them.

Or they could chase after me with a jar of green beans.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

     WILBUR COULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE HAD READ

$1,000 FOR WHOEVER COULD EAT A THREE POUND BURGER WITH A SIDE OF BRED

WILBUR RAN ACROSS THE LAWN COVERING MOST OF HIS SPREAD

HE REACHED THE PADDOCK AND CALLED TO MR. ED.

“ED, IF YOU EAT A THREE POUND BURGER WE WILL GET CASH I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT"

THEN GOT WILBUR’S SADDLE, AND ON IT HE DID SIT

HE RODE INTO THE RESTAURANT, ORDERED THE THREE POUND BURGER BUT DID OMIT

THAT ED WOULD BE EATING THE BURGER AND WILBUR WOULD TAKE THE AWARD BY USING HIS WIT

WILBUR SCOFFED DOWN THAT BURGER IN TWO MINUTES FLAT

AND WILBUR DEMANDED THE MONEY, UNLIKE A DIPLOMAT

AND THEN BEGAN A TERRIBLE SPAT

WILBUR SAID THERE WERE  NO RULES BARRING A HORSE FROM THE CONTEST AND THAT WAS THAT

 THE OWNER DECIDED THE HORSE WINNING A CONTEST WOULD BE GOOD PUBLICITY

MAYBE THEY COULD CREATE A COMMERCIAL CAMPAIGN, HORSES EAT FOR FREE

WHEN THEY TOLD WILBUR HE HAD WON HE YELLED YIPPEE

JUMPED IN THE AIR THEN FELL DOWN IN A PUDDLE OF ED’S PEE

TWO MEN STOOD OVER WILBUR LOOKING DOWN WHILE

ON THE BAR AS A  HALF EATEN THREE POUND SANDWICH AND THERE WAS NO HORSE AROUND

WILBUR HAD BEEN YELLING ABOUT THE SANDWICH, AND HIS HORSE:  HE COULD BE HEARD ACROSS TOWN

AND HE KEPT TALKING ABOUT HIS HORSE - HE WAS A SAD DRUNK, A PITIFUL CLOWN

LOOKING THROUGH A WINDOW WILBUR WATCHED HIS SAD FRIEND

WILBUR’S KEEPING A SECRET ABOUT HIS TALKING ABILITY HAD DRIVEN WILBUR AROUND THE BEND

WILBUR’S BOASTS ABOUT THE TALKING HORSE. AND ED’S SILENCE MADE DRINKING ALL NIGHT HIS NEW TREND

AT THE END OF THIS POEM WILBUR COULD ONLY SHAKE HIS HEAD AND SAY “THE END.:

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat this caption

Sadly, Woody called the dog Bullseyee one took many times and even with a new sewing machine Andy’s mom could not repair him

Monday question

What do your parents hate to clean the most?

Poop?

Pee?

Puke?

Something you caught?

Defluffed toys

Some else?

Ruby's answer: My Mommy doesn't like cleaning poop, Our floors are slanted at a little poop can make a mighty river.

Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: 20 Years Ago She Chased a Squirrel Up a Tree and Now She's Being Sued

 

I am a very important judge here at Rainbow Bridge. I have taken an oath to uphold justice. So good did I end up the defendant in a suit filed against me for actions I took on the mortal side,

I was served with a summons by a timid chipmunk. I took it into my house and opened it. “I am being sued,” I announced, shocked.

“Is it because you used to eat my food?” Pocket asked, and I said it was not. “Is it because you used to bite me when someone approached us?” Annoyed, I said no.” Is it because you used to kick me out of the warm spot in the bed because you wanted it?” she asked

As I had often done, I ran out of patience with my sister, and snapped at her: “Why would someone sue me for things I did for you?” 

“Maybe they were just being nice,” she said.

I slightly growled then remembered my anger workshops and went to my happy place which was under the bed covers in a warm spot while Pocket shivered in the cold spot. Once subdued, I read the complaint: “In or about the 29th of August in 2009 I was gathering nuts on the grounds of the Taunton State Hospital when a dog, the plaintiff, chased me causing me to lose my nuts, The incident affected me so much I was afraid to get down from my tree, and it hastened my departure to Rainbow Bridge. Signed Sidney the Squirrel.”

A picture was included. I told: Pocket I had never seen the squirrel before. She turned the picture around to show Sidney’s tail and butt. Now I remembered. “Sure, I chased him, but I chased a lot of squirrels. There is no reason to make a federal case of it,” When I saw the hearing would be in squirrel court, and my fate was in the paws of tree rats, I knew I would have to present the case of my life.

I asked Pocket to go as my witness to say that we both chased squirrels. Sidney put on a compelling case and whenever I objected the monkey judge threw feces at me. Then it was my turn. I put Pocket on the stand and she surprised me by saying she was the one who chased Sidney. The squirrel could not identify which one of us did the chasing, and we all looked the same to him. The idea of being rewarded with my riches was stymied by Pocket’s testimony that she had no riches, just what was on her, and offered the squirrel a ham sandwich she had been saving. Reluctantly, Sidney took it.

When we got outside I thanked my little sister and told her I owed her one, which was a mistake, because there was only one thing Pocket wanted.

For the next six hours, deep into the night, under the moonlight, (the serious moonlight) I stood in the middle of Doggyspace Park and threw the ball to her for six hours until she was exhausted and happy.

Next time I am paying off the squirrels. 

Ruby Rose's Nature Friday Fall 2024

I haven''t done a garden report since July, when everything was growing, because in mid-August through the end of September so many blooms went to sleep.

October brings us the survivors, who braved the high heat of late summer, then the cooling temperatures and lessening daylight of the early fall.

Also there are the late bloomers, like this Shasta Daisy, who oversle;pt, arrived late, and is making up for it as we steer into Columbus Day.

Like a monster unleashed after years of being submerged in the ocean, the Hydrangea has taken over River’s garden overshadowing the butterfly bush. In November, when it stop \s blooming, Daddy is going to try to cut it back, once his insurance payment is caught up. 

The remaining flowers have been relocated to Foley’s Garden, which gets the most sunlight and is easily kept watered.

 The chrysanthemums are new, three of them are doing well, and the fourth went to live in a garden upstate, or at least that is what I have been told.

The winner of the garden season are the New Guinea impatiens, planted five months ago, and still going strong.

It is dark half the time now so we need to leave a light on if the plants, or Saint Anthony want to read

Now for the bad news, scarecrows have taken over the front garden. I don’t walk that way. I have walked with enough spirits lately

 

And finally, when night falls, River’s garden lights up like it is the Fourth of July in Asbury Park.

 I have declared this year’s gardens very successful and soon I will start planning next year’s garden.

Until then I will visit the flowers in my dreams. 

Poetry Thursday

 

   

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

 What is she doing here?

 What  the hell is she doing here?

She watches us from the thick bushes

and she never waves when she goes by

She is hiding something from the rest of us

She's all to herself

i think i know why

She cut down the small trees to make it clear

She has no Infants of her own from what I see

She has no monkeys, she has no friends and her plants are dying

And who drops packages for her from the sky?

What is she doing here?

She has fire sticks lightning her windows 

What is she doing here?

I'll tell you one thing

She's not here for the betterment of our children

 What is that sound from under the door?

 it sounds like she is butchering something on the floor

And I swear I heard a gibbon moaning low

She is always talking in that thing she holds in her hand

and she carries that long stick when on the hunt

You won't believe what Koko the chimp saw

She carries a long knife sharpened to  point

And she has enough chemicals there to  kill Kong

What is she doing here?

 What  the hell is she doing here?

I heard her talking to a man

 from a strange place called Nashville Tennessee

and she sends reports to a man in Indonesia.

But what is she doing here

She has no friends and no one to see 

I heard she spent a year in jail

And  Rodney the monkey saw her signaling l with a flashlight 

And what is that song she is always singing?

What is she doing here?

 What is she doing here?

We are the government

We have the right to know

jj