Veternarians List of Food Dogs Shouldn't Eat and Foley List of Food Dogs Shouldn't Eat

I recently read a very helpful blog about eight items you should never feed your dog:  1) Xylitol 2) Chocolate 3) Avocado 4) Macadamia nuts 5) Grapes and raisins 6) yeast dough 7) garlic and onions and 8) marijuana.

Some of the things on the list I have little interest in like Xyitol (what the hell is that?) and yeast dough (I don’t want to know where they grow that); some I might give a sniff but don’t care if I eat like avocados, grapes, raisins, garlic and onions (and why are garlics and onions grouped together as one thing when they make two entirely different pizzas); and those we don’t get to eat because the humans are hoarding them for themselves (chocolate and marijuana.)

Luckily, when you arrive at this side of the River of Life you can eat all this stuff but why would you?  Avocados?  Gross.  Garlic?  Makes my cheeks hurt.  And marijuana, well that stuff makes you want to eat avocados and garlic.

But this barely scratches the surface of what mortal dogs should not eat.  To help mortal pet parents I have made own list:

1. Plain Kibble:  Can I have a plate of dehydrated meat cooked at an extremely high heat so no taste can survive and then made crunchy so eating it is harder than breaking pebbles with your teeth?  Give us a dash of human food.  Help a pup out here.
2. Any food made from characters in Winnie the Pooh.  No bear, no tigger, no kangaroo.  Rabbit is OK but only because he was kind of a jerk.
3. Healthy treats:  If you only eat fruits, vegetables, and healthy food for treats then so should we but if you are eating chocolate cake don’t expect us to be happy with a treat made of carrots and blueberries.  Love them like family, feed them like family:  If you can’t give us a piece of chocolate case give us something with bacon in it.
4. Discounted treats.  Here’s a helpful rule of thumb:  For you no cheap meat - for us no cheap treat.
5. Bully sticks:  These are made from a bull’s penis.  The last thing any soul wants, be they human or dog is to have their picture taken with a bull’s cock in their mouth unless their name rhymes with Rardashian.  It is wonderful that Indians used every part of the bull but there’s a reason they started in Plymouth and ended up in Tempe.  Don’t disrespect the bull.
6. Anything made in China:  Chinese food may be good, but I don’t think any Americans order their Chinese food from restaurants in China, wait for it to be put on a ship, filled with preservatives and sent overseas.  If you can find Chinese food made in America then go for it.  If not avoid it.
7. Ice chips:  You know you have all done it.  “We don’t want to give them a treat but let’s give them an ice chip because they will think it’s a treat and they won’t be giving us the sad eyes.”  We do get all excited because we think it’s a real treat, and we lose the sad eyes, but that is because those things give us brain freezes and no one like brain freezes.
8. Turkey bacon:  We love bacon even more than chicken.  Don’t get us all worked up for bacon and then spoil it when it’s turkey.  We will take turkey.  Love the turkey.  But don’t do a bait and switch and get us psyched for bacon and give us turkey.  It’s meaner than the ice chip trick.                     

Foley reflects on her first year at Rainbow bridge

In June I “celebrated” my one year anniversary at Rainbow Bridge. 

 Honestly it was quite disappointing.  Turns out the first year anniversary is paper and I was given a box of pee pads.   I don’t even pee!  Not that anniversary gifts will improve much.  Between 25 and  50 year anniversary gifts are good but after that things go downhill.  By the time of my 357th anniversary I will be receiving two dozen goats.  Like I have a place to keep two dozen goats.

While the Bridge is a wonderful place, from the River of Life where we can look in our loved ones, to the beautiful mountains overlooking the animals’ sections of the Bridge, to the grand mansions in the valley where the humans live, it is also a bittersweet place.

Everyone here misses someone.  There is so much to do that we don’t have much time to think about the loved ones we have left behind.  But occasionally these feelings do arise and when they do, the other angels can sense it, and we gather to share memories and comfort one another.

Because we have short, limited lives, at some point, everyone that we ever knew will be here, and we will be happy, but there is always someone left behind.  If our Mommies and Daddies come they miss their children, when they come, the children will miss their children..  Unless the humans manage to destroy the world there will always be someone missing someone.

It is said that the River of Life is filled with the tears shed here for those we left behind.  Others say it is filled with the tears of the reunited.  I think it is a mixture of both.  As I write this I see Smartie, PJ, Willie, Meika, Tanner, Fella, Brooklyn, Buddy and so many more of my friends running towards me.  They must know I have the blues.

Time to run and romp those tears away.

Foley's Revenge by River Song

I know Foley has informed all of you that we have started gardening after a winter colder than the wicked witch’s underwear and longer than a James Franco text message to a 15 year old girl with references to a body part which he refers to as the Great and Powerful Oz.  I am just going to come right out and say it:  That dude freaks me out.

Anyway, back to the garden.  My Mommy has a bad neck which is connected to her bad back which is connected to her bad spine which is connected to her bad hip which is connected to her bad legs which is connected to her had knee which lead to her bad feet.  The woman is bad.

Foley has given us strict orders not to let Mommy overwork.   But on Monday the weather was cool, and the work was progressing without incident.  Pocket and I were chilling in the stroller, watching the pruned people walk by, the birds flying overhead, insects happily buzzing.

We went past the two hour mark.  Daddy, who is also on strict orders from Foley decided, on his own , that Mommy could work for at least another hour.  Mommy hates to get out of the garden more than an acid freak at Woodstock so she was happy to stay.  All of us forgot Foley and what would surely be her revenge.

Finally Daddy told Mommy it was time to stop.  She turned and looked at him like a dog who had just spent an hour chasing a rabbit, had finally caught it, and while exhausted, had saved the energy to devour it, and was now being told to come in.  But like all good parents Daddy insisted Mommy was tired, needed to come in, and, if she didn’t, would, like the dog with a rabbit, spend the rest of the day on the toilet.

None of us had considered how much we had angered Foley until it was time for us to get out  of our stroller.  Daddy took a hold of the zipper and pulled but nothing happened.  Both Pocket and I were barking loudly wanting to get out to run free and finally pee.  Daddy worked on the zipper but it wouldn’t budge.  Foley had frozen it trapping us in the stroller as punishment.

As Pocket and I were panicking, picturing a life stuck living in a buggy but Daddy used his almost human like strength to rip the zipper and we were free.  But the buggy was busted, having taken the brunt of Foleys wrath over us overworking Mommy.

Mommy ordered us a new buggy (actually three new buggies. Mommy got into a little keystroke problem with Amazon and we ended up with three spacious pink buggies, but she was able to return them.)  When gardening day we went out and enjoyed the new room and the bluetooth capabilities of the new buggy.

We completely forgot how long we were out there for.  Suddenly, for no reason, our new buggy tipped over and we could hear the faint sound of Foley chuckling.  We knew then it was time to go in.  

Luckily we learned some lessons from the experience.

Check your shopping cart before you pay.

Don’t let Mommy work too long in the garden.

And don’t mess with Foley.

Wordless Wednesday Throwback Edition

Wordless Wednesday Throwback Edition

Ask Aunt Foley

Dear Aunt Foley:  I think most humans agree that us dogs show the same emotions that they do.  But there are still humans who study dogs, and insist that we do not show emotion.  Now that you are on the immortal side of the River of Life, can you provide any insight on this long debated question?  Emotional in Pittsburgh

Dear Emotional:  Now that I am on the immortal side of the Bridge I so enjoy the theorists and philosophers on the mortal side who struggle with the mysteries of life.  Although I have taken an oath not to reveal the secrets contained  on the immortal side I will tell you that the entirety of life is more spectacular and fascinating than mere mortal minds can comprehend.  As for your question I will answer this:  There are two schools of thought popular with humans, one, that man is descended from the ape, and second, that God created Adam and then Eve from a rib and all humans are descended from them, both of which are terribly wrong.  

The actual story of Adam and Eve didn’t take place at the Garden of Eden, but the Olive Garden, Eve didn’t tempt Adam with an apple from a snake, but with a fruit salad made with calamari, which Adam did not find to his taste, causing him to start a fight with the manager, and getting them banished from the Olive Garden, making complaining about the blessing of food the true original sin.

Which brings me to evolution and the answer to your question.  Humans hate the idea that they evolved from feces throwing, crap eating, masturbating monkeys.  So humans produce opinions that makes the idea of being evolved from monkeys seem ridiculous by saying that men cannot be evolved from monkeys because monkeys don’t experience emotions, and then they use that conclusion to cover all animals.

In truth man is not evolved from apes.  Man did start in the ocean, and then crawled out to land, and then developed into the perfect state of dog. At that point dogs felt the need to take care of someone, and to be taken care of, so one set of dogs decided to walk upright, grow slope noses, and become man, while other stayed in the perfect state of dogs, and those that didn’t develop correctly became monkeys.  That is why we bond so well.  We are all part of the same family.

And if you are worried about the hand of God in this story, this is being by a Yorkie who was last seen on the mortal side of life in June of last year, if  you can’t find a reasons to believe in that then I don’t know if you will be able to find a reason to believe in anything.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday Throwback Edition

Wordless Wednesday Throwback Edition

Wordless Wednesday Throwback

Wordless Wednesday Throwbark Edition

Foley's Final Gift

Before I left for the Bridge I had one more gift to give my Mom.  It is the last gift so many of us give when we cross over.  My last gift was River Song.

Granted, some days that gift is like a pair of socks.  But most days my gift works out just like I planned (those days don’t include the days that she craps on my museum.)

The key to finding a new dog to replace you is to get one who reminds Mom of you enough to make her smile, but not enough to make her cry.  The new dog has to have some of the traits that made your Mom smile, some things she wish you had done, and some traits from dogs that came before you.

The most important trait River needed to have to remind Mommy of me was to be a snuggle bug, and on this she gets a B+.  River, as you can assume from a young lollipop who became impregnated before she blew out the candles on her first birthday cake, is great in bed.  She is incredibly warm, wonderfully snuggly, and loves to sleep in.  When I peer into the River of Life to watch my family sleeping in my bed I swear River could be a little Monster.

She also loves to be held like a baby cuddled in her arms, lying on her back.  Blake Bear did that but  I was never trustful enough to lie on my back in someone’s unsteady arms.  Plus, when I came to live with Mommy, Blake filled the baby snuggling roll, so I took the baby squirming roll.

River also revives memories of Blake in the way she begs for food.  Blake used to do what was called “up pretty.”  She would sit straight on her butt, with her front paws up, and look back and forth between Mommy and Daddy until one of them gave her a treat.  When Blake went to the Bridge I took over the roll of main begger, but not being good at balancing, I just barked.  And barked.  And barked.  Now River is the main treat begger but she is no better at balancing than I was, so she stands on her back legs, punches her paws in the air and emulates Blake by looking back and forth between our parents with the same eyes.

She has taken over the role of sitting on the back of the couch and barkin at anything that comes into view.  Pocket does this too but Pocket doesn’t balance very well up there.  Both River and I would have to bark when Pocket fell off the couch.

River has taken to the tasl of adorably playing with toys to a new art form.  Blake liked toys, but outgrew them as she got older.  I would pick up a stuffed toy, growl ferociously and shake my head wildly, but I got dizzy after a few seconds.  Pocket, she’s afraid of toys.  But River loves her stuffed toys, and walks around with them in her mouth squeaking, or picking up one of her balls and holding it between her paws chewing it.  Mommy thinks this is so cute.  I don’t see it.

And Mommy loves to play with River.  There is a plush Christmas ball that someone sent us.  Before we go to bed Mommy puts River on the sheets and holds the ball up.   River dances in front of her as Mommy asks her whose ball it is.  None of us ever did that before. River created that herself, and it sure does make Mom smile.

I love to look in the River of Life and see Mom smile.  I am so glad River makes her do so.  It may take a village to raise a child but it takes a village of Angels to create a pup.  

And nothing makes an Angel smile more than a happy Mom.  

Wordless Wednesday Throwback Edition

Wordless Wednesday

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

Foley, less than a year old, with her sister Blake

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Two Sad Blogs in One (By Foley: My Song in Ending) (By Pocket: "A Single Heartbeat" Foley Update)

Foley is currently in intensive care in a hospital.  She wrote the first blog yesterday and Pocket wrote an update today.

My Song is Ending:  By Foley Monster

Hi my sweet, wonderful, loyal friends.  Although I don't have a specific time frame I am afraid my song will be ending much sooner than I had planned.  I have an enlarged heart, which is quite ironic, since my friends have always said I have a big heart.  I have an ultrasound for tomorrow and then my parents will see if I can be treated medically.  I am going to try and hang on for as long as I can but it's the little things we take for granted, like breathing, that has been my downfall.  I was up all night because I am having such trouble getting air that if I lay down I can't breathe.  Mommy and Daddy have very teary eyes today.  I have to be separated from them for most of day tomorrow until I get my ultrasound and then we will find out how much more of my song I can sing.  Don't pray for me, I am the mini Monster, and I will always be with my friends, online, in your dreams, there forever more, but pray for my parents, who can barely function on good days, and for Pocket, who is going to have to rebuild their hearts.  All songs end, no matter how beautiful, I don't know if mine will be in weeks, months, or in a couple of years, but I have enjoyed singing it to all of you, and to my beloved Mom, and will keep doing so until that big paw comes to me from the sky and leads to to the Bridge and the Land of Never Ending Tomorrows.  Until that day comes I am determined to keep you smiling with my earthly adventures, and after that to keep you smiling with adventures from another realm.  Keep smiling friends, every day with our parents is a gift, and we need to enjoy them. 

A Single Heartbeat:  Pocket's Update on Foley's Condition

Hi my wonderful friends, it’s Pocket Dog.  I wish it wasn’t.  I wish it was Foley barking at you to say that she is home, fine, and aced that test, unfortunately I can’t do that right now.

Last night Foley’s breathing became very labored.  Mommy and Daddy had one of those conversations that humans have without speaking.  The conversation basically said “This isn’t good.  What should we do?  If she is going pass tonight I would rather she did it with us in bed then it a hospital.  I agree.”  

Foley made it to morning and went to the vet’s.  She was immediately taken and put into an oxygen tent.  Once she had stabilized she was given an x-ray that confirmed what was obvious, that her heart was failing.

Now the doctors are trying to determine if her heart is strong enough to be treated with medicine.  She told me through the mental connection us sisters have that if it is she will be home on Monday, and if it isn’t, she says the Lord only gives us so many heartbeats and if she has reached her limit then there is nothing anyone can do about it.  She is sure that your prayers, and your love, have added to her heartbeats, and she loves you all.

She also asked me something before she left.  She asked what the loudest sound in the world was.  I said her farts.  But she said no.  It’s a single heartbeat.  Heartbeats fade to the background during our daily lives, but, when you return home, as Mommy and Daddy did today without Foley, and you don’t hear that heartbeat anymore, you realize the sound of a single heartbeat is louder and more beautiful than 1,000 piece symphony orchestra.

Oh how we miss that heartbeat.  Oh how we long to hear it within these walls again.  It was the most beautiful song I ever heard.  I didn’t realize it until it was gone.

I know Foley asked you not to pray for her, but I am not as modest, in fact I am darn needy, and I need to hear the symphony again.  That heartbeat symphony.

Play on my big sister, my world, my life, Mommy’s angel, Daddy’s best friend, play on.

 

Mom's New Recliner

The human insanity never ends.  Just when we are comfortable they turn the tables on us and bring in something we could never have comprehended in two dozen years.

I knew something was amiss last night.  Before bed Mommy and Daddy began moving our furniture around.  They took our recliner (Aside:  It is our recliner, it belongs to me, Mommy and Pocket. We sit on it together, we snuggle, cuddle, eat treats on it, and at the end of this recliner I have licked so much the fabric is all sticky.   It is on the recliner and the bed that we live so it is ours.  End of Aside.) and moved it to where Daddy sits, put Daddy’s recliner where the glider was, and put the glider that no one sits on in the front room where no one sits.  I was concerned because the spot where we sat now held an empty recliner.

This morning Mommy went to breakfast with a friend.   I think the only reason she did it was to try hide her culpability in what happened next.  There was the sound of a truck outside that made both Pocket and I bark loudly.  Then two strange men with interesting smells came in carrying a new chair.  This made us very excited.  A new chair.  It went right into the sport where Mom’s old recliner was.  I liked this one even more.  It had great smells, it was very snuggly, and unlike Mom’s old recliner it did not spin.  (When I jumped on it I was always worried it would move and I would splat on the floor.)  

Then, when Mommy got home Daddy placed me in the chair while Pocket ran over to show her what came.  She was very happy.  While I was watching Mommy’s smiling face Daddy did something you should never do with a chair.  He plugged it in.  Maybe, if we had seen him do it, we wouldn’t have been as shocked, but we didn’t.  Mommy and Pocket sat with me in the chair and at first it was the coolest thing ever.  Mommy picked up a remote hooked to the chair, the bottom lifted in a slow, easy manner and we reclined peacefully.  It was heaven.

Then the heat came on.  I was sitting next to Mommy with my butt on the back rest when it became nice and warm and my knee stopped aching.  It was so nice,   I was settling into a long nap when suddenly the freaking thing began to vibrate.  Pocket flew off the chair and almost crashed into the love seat.  Mommy and I were stuck in the chair like Leo and Kate struggling on the door at the end of Titanic.

But apparently nothing untoward had happened.  Mommy told me that it was a vibrating chair.  What a terrible thing to do to a wonderful piece of furniture.  Why can’t humans leave well enough alone?  You got total comfort and you have to add a vibrator to it?  I am surprised they didn’t put bacon on it.  If I invented vibrating bacon humans would never leave the house.

Also the  chair rises to help Mommy stand but when we sit in it, if she hasn’t lowered it yet, the chair is slanted downward.  It’s like sitting in a soft chair in the Joker’s hideout.  I just don’t think this chair is on the level.

Well there is good news.  There are now three recliners in the living room. One is empty most of the time and gets lots of sun, but since it’s empty I am missing the human warmth.  The second one is Mommy’s old spinning recliner which Daddy sits in.  It’s thinner than the empty recliner but Daddy is thicker than Mommy so there is less room to sit.  Then there is the freaky vibrating recliner.  I guess I will have to choose that one but Pocket and I are talking about one of us pulling the cord from the wall and the other chewing the remote wires.  What could go wrong?

For now I guess we will have to get used to the vibrating zombie chair.