Beat This Caption

I'm sorry I told my parents to get Salmon kibble. I didn't know I was eating chicken 

Monday question

We can agree that pets are not good at New Year's Resolutions.

But, if you could have your parents make one that would make your life better what would it be?

Ruby's Answer: While I had a perfect life I have noticed after concerns about my weight were raised that the treat portions have shrunk. 

I want my parents to not make decisions based on how big I am but how big my appetite is.

 

Foley:s Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Don't Get a Dog If......

On Christmas people want to make their loved ones' creams come true: And sometimes that dream is a dog.

Whenever a dog finds a new home an angel gets its wings. And when that dog is abandoned or returned the wings are ripped from the angels. 

We don’t want that.

I am here to help. Not everyone should get a dog for the holidays and if you answer any of thesethese questions “yes,” you should question if you are ready for a dog, and if you answer four of them find a new home for the dog immediately.

1. Do you consider yourself a selfish person? 
2. Take a look at your floor. Is it clean and pretty? Now picture a big puddle of pee or a steaming poop pile on the floor. Does it make you mad?
3. Do you have a favorite pair of shoes? Do you store them somewhere low? Would you be unforgiving of a soul who destroyed them?
4. Have you been to a pet store lately? Have you asked yourself how much food, toys, and a bed could be? Whatever that amount is multiply it by ten.
5. Are you going somewhere on Christmas or in the coming days? Do you have a plan to crate the dog or leave it in a small area? Have you figured a dog can’t do that much damage?
6. Does it bother you to get out of bed about 15 minutes earlier and stand outside in the bitter cold while your own and my dog do everything but pee?
7. Would it bother you if after standing outside for 15 minutes in the bitter cold without the dog doing anything the dog pees as soon as it gets inside?
8. Will you let a dog on a walk smell an inch of ground like they are Nicolas Cage examining the back of the Declaration of Independence? 
9. Do you mind being pulled around your neighborhood by a Tasmanian Devil-possessed dog who causes you to trip a dozen times?
10. Do you treasure your quiet time after work and get angry if it is interrupted by incessant and unnecessary noise?

If you have answered yes there is still time for you to become dog worthy. And don’t be fooled by how much the dog loves you. It is going to love you more than you have ever been loved?

If you cannot reciprocate that love you owe it to the pup to find a soul who can.+ 

The Ruby Rose Report: The Griff Who Stole Christmas

It was 2:00 AM on Christmas Eve and I was about to accomplish what dogs, cats and kids had failed for centuries before. I was going to stay up to see Santa

I was ready to say hello to Santa I saw a green, furry, ill-tempered humanoid with a potbelly face, snub nose and cat-like face. “You’re not Santa,” I said.

“Of course I am,” the green creature said. “You run along and get to bed.” He then turned on the light and his expression changed. “I didn’t know you were a Griffon,” he said.”Me too,” he said then sat on the couch.

“You’re a liar,” I said. “I look nothing like you.”

“You have a wrinkly face, a downturned mouth, and bitter eyes, just like me. We could be related.” He continued: “I was the original Griffon, a victim of experimentation, over bred until my fur turned green. My breeders decided I was too hideous to become a family pet and I was dumped at the bottom of Mount Crumpett to fend for myself. I stole from trash cans and garages, until I discovered that the times when houses are most filled with food was Christmas. I began breaking into homes on Christmas and getting supplies for the year. But now I am getting older, and I need a successor. You showed great determination and guile to wait up for Santa. Ruby, with you frown so down, won’t you help me rip off this town?”

  I told him, while I was sorry for his past, I could not steal from families on Christmas.

“Oh, no, the way you talk it could only mean one thing, you’re a Democrat.”

I told him I was unregistered and politics has nothing to do with it. It was wrong.

“You are young and naive. The world is becoming more Grinchy every day. You could be a great leader.”

I didn’t want to be a great leader, I just wanted to be a loving lap dog.

“Well, I will not steal from another Griff.” He handed me a green card. “Call me if you change your mind. And so you know, the media got my name wrong. I am Mr. Griff.”

I tore up the card with my teeth,

I had learned a valuable lesson. 

Never sit up for Santa,

You don’t know who will show up.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

I am all for Christmas cheer

To celebrate all friends and family far and near

But there is one thing about Christmas I can’t persevere

My neighbor who hangs so many lights he needs advice from a engineer

 

I am usually not much of a poster

But living across the street from this guy has been quite the roller coaster.

When your down he’s your biggest booster

But during Christmas it's like being Cosmo across from Kenny Rogers roaster

 

I suppose I could stand it if they were lit just to Christmas Day

But it's Martin Luther King Day at the earliest when he puts them away

His yard is so cluttered and in disarray

Last year he found a family of migrants living in the sleigh

 

Last year I asked him “can I make a suggestion to you?

To make things less bright on our Avenue

Perhaps you could take down a display or two?”

And he replied I didn’t know you were a Jew.

 

I’m not Jewish (not that there’s anything wrong with that

I had an Aunt who insisted Judaism was practiced by her cat)

I corrected him and said such a display was not in the Christmas spirit

And he said: “You’re worse than a Jew, you’re a Democrat.”

 

This year I bought light blocking curtains and thick blinds

The darkest material known to mankind.

But in gaps, seams, and hole the bright light did find

And it slowly drove me out of my mind

 

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year

I hope it brings you health happiness with no fear

And please raise a glass to me in good cheer

From the little house ho thanks to my neighbor can been seen from high above the atmosphere

Wordless Wednesday

 

BEAT THIS CAPTION

 

Sarah was happy that Doug and Harry finally posed in their Christmas picture and Doug and Harry were happy Sarah left out all the CBD gummies

Monday Question

 What are you and your parents' plans for Christmas?

Mommy and Daddy are going to Mommy's brother's  house and I am going to be loose in the house for the first time. If the tree survives it will be a miracle.

The Ruby Rose Report: The Truth About Drones

 

I was peacefully sleeping on top of the covers while my parents clueless parents slumbered next to me when I heard a motor and saw flashing red and green lights. I am a curious dog so I went to the window, and looked through the window, to see a drone hovering right outside the window. Sitting on top of it was a strange, small person, wearing all red, and a cap, with a white ball on top., and white trimmings around the neck. “Let me in,” the creature said. I saw helicopters above with searchlights. I told him I didn’t know how and he said all I had to do was welcome him inside and he would have access, like the world’s tiniest, fanciest dressed vampire, but with the helicopter getting closer, and the creature not turning into a bat, I allowed it inside. 

The elf appeared inside the house, and parked the drone under the bed, then asked me for a cookie. At first, I said we didn’t because I didn’t want to be implicated in an elf-flying drone scandal, but when he mentioned Oreos I showed him where they were. He ate so many dark chocolate fudge Oreos I thought he would explode.

“Why are you flying a drone around?” I asked him, once he had stopped eating and emitted a tiny elf burp.

“Santa’s orders,” the elf told me. “The old guy is slipping. He used to know when you were sleeping, know when you’re awake, know if you’ve been bad or good, now he can’t remember what day it is, for goodness sake. So he has we elves build drones, and now, with Christmas approaching we have been tasked with using the drones to spy on the kids, under an act by Santa’s Villiage Security.

“These freaking adults,” he said shaking his head. “You can land a sleigh full of presents, with a fat guy on top, being dragged by nine strangely muscular reindeer, and they don’t notice. And they don’t care he comes into their house and creeps around while they are sleeping, but an elf on a tiny drone puts them on high alert.

“But people will notice if their rotten kid gets lots of presents and little Timmy Angel gets crap in his stocking.”

“I thought it was cool,” I said.

“It used to be but there were so many rotten kids we were getting weighed down with coal. Plus he is eating all those cookies. Taking a dump in a rotten kid’s stocking eliminated a lot of problems.”

The elf looked out the window and saw the helicopters had left. “I have to be getting back, but don’t worry, you will be getting a very good report, because Murphy Bowman, you’re a good dog.”

I told him that wasn’t my name.

“Well it is for Christmas, unless you want to cause trouble, and if you do, before we get to your house I am putting Ex-Lax in Santa’s milk before we get to your house.’

And then the elf was gone, to mid-identify more kids as good or naughty.

I think a lot of good kids better carefully check their stockings this Christmas and take nothing for granted. 

Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: What a Dog Wants

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 wants or needs. It is you.

Minnie, a pittie, was held by her dad, Michael Naylor, as a newborn. We indeed imprint on the first person we see, but if we don’t get total love from the person, the imprint washes away. But she did not have to worry that this would happen with Michael. That moment they looked at one another he surrendered his heart to her.

Michael, a father of three, took Minnie wherever he went, and if the place didn’t take dogs, Michael didn’t go.

His wife and children loved Minnie too, but she was her dad’s dog. 

It would be nice if that was how the story ended, but stories of constant happiness don’t spread but those of constant sorrow do.

The sorrow began in 2021 when Naylor was diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis and kidney issues, and then pancreatic cancer.

As Naylor grew worse he realized he could not take care of Minnie.

But, to Minnie, she didn’t need walks, food, or water, just him. Dogs can live off of love.

Naylor’s love for Minnie was just as strong, and he decided that her devotion to him was unhealthy. The big dog had to be dragged from Naylor’s room, and the first chance she got she ran back to him,

Naylor had prepared for the worst.  He did not want Minnie to suffer watching him die. So he made the worst possible decision for both him and Minnie.

He surrendered her, out of love, to a nearby shelter. Minnie was so distraught it was impossible to adopt out for a year.

Meanwhile, Naylor’s life without Minnie was unbearable. He handled her tags like they were a rosary, and would visit the shelter during outside hours so he could get a glimpse of her.

In 2023 Minnie was adopted by another family and Naylor gave up taking medication, eating, or going to the doctor. Without being able to see Minnie he gave up on life.

Minnie only had love for one person in her heart and while she liked the nice people who adopted her she would not bond with them, and within a year was surrendered back to the shelter. Minnie was placed on the adoption list.

Naylor had gone off the shelter’s website every day, like a captain’s wife on the widow’s walk yearning for a sign for his long overdue ship. 

I saw Minnie’s picture and weakly announced he was getting her back.

Shortly after that Naylor found he had been misdiagnosed, and with proper treatment would be fine. With getting Minnie back his endgame, Naylor began to work hard to get healthy for the first time in two years.

When Naylor entered remission he contracted the shelter, two years after letting Minnie go. She was still there. Naylor found her playing in the yard and called her name. Minnie’s ears went up, her tail began to twirl, and she jumped into his arms.

Tears were shed that day by all involved, enough tears to cause a monsoon at the Bridge when they fell.

After two years Minnie was home and happy. 

And Naylor, with his heart and soul intact again, was soon returned to full health.

So, dear humans, remember, no matter how bad things get, your dogs want you.

Only you.

You are all they need in a world without end.

Amen.

Poetry Thursday

 

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

One Christmas my Dad said he knew where Santa lived

We begged to takes us, we did not want to be deprived

My skeptical older brother said we were being jived

So my Dad put us in the car, and told us to be quiet until we arrived

Being kids, and excited to meet Santa, that was a promise we needed to break.

Thinking we were going to see Santa our emotions did overtake

Suddenly the car veered right and an old mountain road Daddy did take

And he drove high into the sky without hitting his brake.

The road was narrow, steep. And filled with potholes

We pleaded with my dad to turn over the controls

And he told us to stop being Christmas trolls

The top of the mountain was his goal

My little brother told my Dad that Santa lived at the North Pole not on top of a hill

But my Dad insists we chill

The North Pole was a lie created by Santa but he meant no ill will

He needed privacy and didn’t want his shop overrun like a jolly Bastille.

And so we continued going higher

And none of wanted to call him a liar

But we knew he didn’t mean to steer us into a quagmire.

But we had all paid the price for his theories created by him that did conspire.

It was a treacherous route

And we almost fell of the mountain during our commute

So we were stunned to see at the top of the hill a cottage and workshop covered by festive lights throughout

Then we saw someone walks towards us wearing a Santa suit

When we saw Santa we knew there was a glitch

And when my Dad said “we are here Santa,” the elf’s face did twitch.

The he said to my father “you are one dumb son  of a bitch

You just climbed Mount Crumpet and I am the Grinch. 

\

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

I am telling you for the last time, the reasons are because of the price of Meow Mix, because you let dogs cross the border into our yard and dig in the garden, taking away my job, and because I am tired of you looking at me and saying: 'Did I feed you?" ten times a day (and the answer is always no). That. and his knowledge of pussy grabbing, is why I am staying here with Trump" 

Monday Question

 

Are you getting anything for Christmas?

I might get a bone, and Mommy usually gets something related to me, but I am not a big gift dog.

Foley’s Tails From Rainbow Bridge - The. Mortal Side Loses an Dear Friend

Despite being at the Bridge, and passing 11 years ago, I am still shocked by death.

I love all my friends online. They still make me smile every day, even at the Bridge, and after my passing, and Pocket’s then River’s’ they have been a great support for my family.

I thought all of that would end when I was tossed off the group Doggyspace after the great purge of 2008, but now I know I owe a debt of gratitude to the weasels who made that decision because it led me to blog and friends I never would have met.

One of my closest friends was Bouncing Bertie, a dog who lived an exciting life. Bertie and his mom Gail lived in Scotland, by the water, and while I considered myself an active dog I had nothing on Bertrie and Gail.

They took long hikes by the water, through the fields, and the forest. Gail would bike too. Mommy wondered where this woman found the energy. Of all the people in our bogging family, she was the most active. A true force of nature who would be around forever.

Bertie joined the Bridge, and quickly found his replacement, Nobby, who had new puppy energy and was able to keep up with Gail.

Until December of 2024 when Gail slowed down, needing more rest. I thought it was one of those illnesses that people get, that sidelines them for a bit. But when I saw Bertie preparing a new room at his cottage on a cliff.  

It was inconceivable to me that the strongest and most active dog mom I knew could be coming to the Bridge, but the first thing you learn about the end of life is that it never makes sense and is rarely fair.

Gail always put her dogs first so it was no surprise that before she passed she made arrangements for Nobby to have an equally caring family and to still be able to go on the walks he loved.

When Gail crossed the Bridge she did so with her old vigor, and she was met by all the dogs she had loved and lost, led by Bouncing Bertie.

And when I go to the river’s edge I see them happily walking together exploring her new world just as she had on the mortal side.

When Gail passed it rocked Blogville, leaving a hole, but it will be filled by another, and the world will keep spinning.

If a little less joyfully

The Ruby Rose Report: All Ruby Wants For Christmas

 

I wsd thrilled when River came down as a spirit to visit me. She was the one who selected me for the prime position of family dog and it is by far my greatest achievement.

“Have you sent a letter to Santa?” River asked me.

“Why is he lonely?” I asked.

“No, you send Santa a list of what you want for Christmas, and on Christmas Eve he will bring it to you.”

“Like the Amazon man?” I asked.

“No, you don’t have to pay for what Santa sends you.”

“You mean like when Mommy returns a package from Amazon with a few parts missing she has kept because she can repurpose them for something she needs.”

“Oh, like stealing,” I said.

“No,” River said growing exasperated. “Amazon is so big they don’t notice the missing parts, so the only way she could get in trouble is if you do something stupid like putting this conversation verbatim in your blog.”

I told River she didn ‘t need to worry about that. The we returned to the conversation of Santa, who brings gifts to the good little souls on Christmas Eve, “To help him get the right gift for you,, Santa wants you to give him a list of what you want.”

I thought about it. “I don’t need anything,” I said

“There must be something. How about toys?”

“I have more toys than I know what to do with.”

“The bones.”

“Oh no, I have lots of them too. I just got a Himalayan Yak bone. Who knew a serpa’s frozen vomit could make such a great bone.”

“Then treats.”

“I have so many of those I will be eating them through spring. Plus I am trying to keep the weight down.”

“Ruby!” a frustrated River barked. “You have to ask for something. If no one wanted anything for Christmas what kind of holiday would that be?”

I didn’t say it but maybe a time for family,  for worship, for food, and for helping others, but I didn’t want to be labeled a socialist. “How about something for  Mom and Dad. Mommy needs new knees.”

“Santa doesn’t traffic in body parts,” River answered.,

“And Springsteen tickets for Dad.”

“You have better luck with the knees.”

“Then peace of Earth and good will towards men.”:

“Oh Ruby, you don’t want to be one of those people who end up giving everyone books of Life Savers.”

We were at an impasse. River said I had until Christmas Eve to think of something or I risked bringing down the entire system.

Personally, I can’t wait for Christmas to be over.

It is way too stressful. 

Poetry Thursday

Once again Angel Sammy and Teddy Pawrtation have provided us with photo for Poetry Thursday 

    

It was all Josie’s mother's fault

Of that, there was no doubt

But stressed out mom’s don’t admit they were wrong

So Josie and the pussy cats had to make the evidence gone

During breakfast, Josie’s mom said she would only be gone a minute. 

Suzie stopped eating and ran her spoon across her cereal bowl to see how far she could spin it

But she was a toddler and didn’t know about centrifugal force

And soon the cereal, the bowl, and the milk were far off course

It all crashed down and spread across the floor

And it began to spread to the kitchen door

Josie was about to let out a great cry

When she was stopped by her cat Loreli.

Loreli, the pack leader, meowed at the other cats

To get down and lick up all that went splat

Josie was so moved her friends were so quick to clean 

She shimmied down the chair like it was a trellis and the troublesome teen

Then they began to lick up the mess

And they made great progress

They were done by the time Josie’s mom entered the room

Saw her daughter on the floor with cats and that her baby had fallen she did assume.

She blamed the chair

And she did swear

That no one would know the truth

Her baby fell from her chair as her mom hit the vermouth 

But when Dad returned home he knew something amiss

His baby Josie wouldn't give him a kiss

Because after driving warm milk off the floor Josie and the pussycats made a rhyme never heard in a Shakespearean sonnet. 

Josie and the pussy cats did simultaneously projectile vomit. 

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

How the Hell do you get into this thing?

There is no zipper.

There is no clasp.

Pebbles is getting frustrated.

Weekly Question

Do you like when the house is decorated for Christmas?

No. There is suddenly parts of the living room floor that I can go on because they put an unsteady tree there. I know trees. Outside, you can stand and put your whole weight on the tree and it stays up. You wag your tail by an indoor tree and it topples over. And it's your fault. It is the longest five weeks of the year.

 

Foley's Tales from Rainbow Bridge: Riley and his Boy

Boy and his dog

Went out looking for the rainbow

You know what they learn

Since that very day

Walking by the river

And running like a blue streak

Through the fields of streams and meadows

Laughing all the way”

• Van Morrison's “Redwood Tree

 

Riley was born, like so many pups roaming the mortal side after I departed for the Bridge, so I only got to know him from my daily visits to Blogville, and the stories his sister and the Bridge, Xena, would relay to me on a cool night in the moonlight.

 

Riley never sought the limelight. He was content to let his sister Zena be the storyteller in the family All Riley needed was the love of his family.

 

And one in particular, his boy Andrew.

 

I write a lot about the relationships between dogs and their parents, particularly their moms. The relationship is the second purist pet-human relationship in the world.

 

But the purist relationship is between a boy and his dog.

 

Dogs are a boy’s best friend, and every day together is an adventure. Boys have things they don’t want to share with anyone else, things that could cause them to be ridiculed, fears that cannot speak, except for one, his dog, because their ears are meant for listening and their eyes for understanding. 

 

They were puppies together, learning about the world simultaneously: How far they could go, how much they could take. Some things went very wrong, and they kept that secret, one of several from the parents.

 

These are the most glorious days of a dog’s life, but they can tell that the boy is changing, getting bigger, smelling like an adult, and the long summer days full of foolish days are becoming as precious as the last burst of light when the sun is setting, and soon night will come.

 

Before the day comes, when the child becomes a man, he takes a part of his boyhood and gives it to the dog, so, when they are together, even if the kid is now a father, he can be a boy again.

 

Often the boy leaves the house because that is what boys do when they reach a certain age, and the dog slows down and begins his transition to the Bridge because that is what dogs of a certain age do.

 

When the dog is ready to depart, the boy comes back to his parent's house, and says goodbye, but he leaves that little bit of boyhood with

  the passing dog so it will have someone to play with while he is at the Bridge.

 

And that is why I saw Young Andrew running past me at the Bridge, through the fields and meadows, laughing all the way, because men will always be boys with the heart dog of their youth, and the dog will always be with the boy. 

Reposted with the Margin corrected Ruby Rose Report: A Thanksgiving Break Out

Thanksgiving was going to be a nuisance. It always is and leaves us with little to be thankful for: We are either going to have a house full of people too busy to spend time with the dog, or we are left behind, when drink and joy will fall, without us.

The day before Thanksgiving something equally annoying happened. The fake tree was erected in the living room, taking away one of my five beds. How is a little dog going to be able to get by with only four beds? (Not counting the big bed.)

I don’t mind the tree, but I hate the fascist soldiers that protect it. And I wish it was in a corner and not by a window, My Great Nana didn’t like when her daughter and son-in-law put their tree, and when they went out, and she babysat, she tried to scooch the tree over and knocked it, fully decorated, on the floor. When her daughter returned home, Great Nana said the wind got in the house and it blew down, but now that it was on the floor, it gave them a chance to put the tree in the right place.

So I won’t be trying to move the tree even if I could get past the soldiers.

The parents spent a lot of money on the fake tree, probably more than a real tree, and anyone who has seen a rock video knows fake friends cost more than real ones.

I bring this up because months ago the pin that holds the crate door shut broke, but they decided not to get another one because they are cheap, and they said I am a good girl,  the gate could be held in place by a bungee cord, and I have never tried to get out, so what was the harm?

The thing with these temporary solutions is they work fine right up to the time they don’t. After a couple of hours, I got bored. I put my head against the door, and it opened a couple of inches. I pressed and it opened further, and soon I had broken out like Andy Dufrene without a poster of Raquel Welch or crawling through filth.

There was so much I could do. I could try to open cabinets and find food, or jump around on the furniture playing the floor is lava, or find something to chew which is forbidden, and go to town. But I chose to stand at the kitchen window and look out waiting for hours for my parents to come home. 

Give me a break, it was my first burst of freedom. Even Harriet Tubman got caught up looking out the window during her first escape.

And that is where my stunned parents found me when they got home Thanksgiving night, haunting the window waiting up for them. They decided since nothing was damaged and I didn’t seem upset and didn’t poop or pee anywhere untoward that they would stop creating me when they went out.

I think it is just a way to get out of buying another crate. 

Poetry Thursday

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

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

Big Mac and LIttle Mac were playing ball in the yardWhile being watched by their neighbor Maurice the Saint Bernard

Big Mac threw the ball over the fence

Maurice picked it up and ran and the chase commenced.

Big Mac and Little Mac jumped in their truck

Both using that HBO word that rhymes with muck

Its not that they needed the ball

But, as Big Mac said “it’s the principle of the thing, and that is all.”

They saw their neighbors the Bacalls

And asked if they saw Bernard with a ball

They said no, looked at Little Mac and asked “does the ball belong to your son?”

“He’s my dog,” Big Mac said, having heard it before and he wondered what was wrong with everyone.

They went throughout the neighborhood 

And continually about their relationship people misunderstood.

Looking at Little Mac Big Mac said he couldn’t see the resemblance.

And they were just victims of circumstance.

When they got home Maurice waited

And said that he took the ball because he needed his curiosity sated

Maurice said it didn’t make any sense

But how did the big dog get a license

Little Mac “He isn’t a dog he’s my human dad.

And Maurice said he didn’t want to make him mad

But they looked more like relations than dog and man

“And I have one more question if I can?”

“If Big Mac is not a dog

What leaves me agog

And makes me ask at risk of being crass

Why does he spend do much time smelling your moms ass

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

What do your mean you acted happy to see the woman who lives here when she got home, then let her scratch you, then sat on her lap. How many times have I told you to be aloof. You're going to mess this up for all of us,

Beat This Caption

 Are you on any supplements, additives or medications?

Outside of Flagyl for the bad poops a couple of times I do not put anything in my mouth that isn't food or treats, or at least what I think is a food or a treat.