Foley Monster live blogs her walk

Hi, Foley here. I just got into my Daddy's car and we are going over to the State Mental Institution for a walk. I've decided to do a live blog like some bloggers do at sporting events or awards shows. Are you ready?

OK. Daddy is parking the car. Time for Pocket and me to speak up: "LET US OUT. LET US OUT. LET US OUT. LET US OUT. LET US OUT."

Old cranky bones finally makes it over, opens the door and we're out, with Pocket in the lead. I'm doing my best to keep up with skinny butt. We make it over the to grass. We both squat down. OH the sweet release of pee. OK, time to switch up, she goes to mine, I go to hers, squat and pee again. Oh, it's on, pissing match! We go back to pee on our original source and OH NO some force is pulling us away. Wait, oh, it's Daddy. He is ruining all his fun but what does he know he pees indoosr?. OK, we're both walking on the cool green grass. It is humid out and I am already panting. Then we come to the pine trees.

I come to an acorn and call Pocket over. I tell her to sniff it. I tell her that the people who come here spray it with acorn scented Febreeze to make it smell this good. We sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, NO BEING PULLED AGAIN BY THIS STRANGE SIDEWAYS GRAVITY.

Daddy is making us walk again. We are on the short leash that doesn't let us stray and we're bouncing off one another. Then we look up and we smell prunes. Crazy prunes. And there he is, an old, shriveled, criminally insane mental patient. "HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY" Pocket and I yell when suddenly we are pulled by the backward pulling gravity. Great, our one chance to smell an old crazy mental patient and there goes that gravity again pulling us away.

Come on Daddy, what are the chance of us running into a smelly, old, criminally insane man? Oh well,
we're walking in the other direction, on the sidewalk towards the green grass, and now it's so cool under my feet and it's tickling my toes. Pocket and I are getting ready for squirrel chasing, and, uh-oh bowel movement. Give me one minute please.

Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum, dum dum dum dum dum, de dum de dum de, dum de dum, dum dum dum de dum, dum, de dum, de dum de dum, dum de dum de dum de dum, dum dum dum de dum, de dum de dum, dum de dum de dum de dum, dum, dum dum, dum dum,
dum dum.

OK and we're back on the side walk walking towards the main building. We're crossing the street and up by the seats where there are lots of crazy human smells. I try not let Pocket smell too much. We are then making a left paw and heading towards the dumpster where lots of squirrels hang out, but what is this, Daddy won't let us
investigate the dumpster because there is trash. Oh man, I am never going to get a squirrel this way.

We're now walking along the front of the south facing building, and, pant, I am, pant, getting a little tired, pant, because it is hot, pant pant, and I think I am going to try and hang back, pant, pant, and let Pocket's skinny little butt pull me along. I am settling in for a nice walk, as we come up to the trees, and it is shady now, and less hot. And, squirrel!

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run. Where'd it go? Where'd it go? Pocket did you see it? Where is it? I can sniff it? Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff. The smell ends at this tree. You know what that means, it's under the tree! We need to dig.

Oh man we're being pulled again. Next time squirrel. You can run but you can't climb trees! OK, pant, pant, pant, moving on. Pocket's over by a tree, and oh! We've got tree mail! Let's see, the lab from down the street changed his diet, and his cousin is coming to visit. Timmy is getting groomed next week. Bucky has to get his teeth done. And....oh more, gravity pull again. Hey! I'm in the middle of the mail here.

Getting tired now. Pant, pant, pant. And Pocket is speeding up. I hate being connected to her. It's like the Defiant One if Sidney Poitier was an idiot. And and now she is smelling poo. That is so gross. Oh wait it's my poo. It's beautiful, beautiful. Daddy gives us a yank so she won't eat the poo. I won't go near it. I don't eat my on poo. Who wants to eat what they had yesterday?

And there's the car. Thank God. Pant pant pant. Daddy opens the car door. Pocket jumps in, and drags my big butt up there. Put the air conditioner on. Put the air conditioner on. Put the air conditioner on. Very good sir. Now home Jeeves, there is a lap waiting for me.

Pepsi is our June 13, 2010 pup of the week

I doubt very much that this will be very good, nor do justice to our most treasured friend, Pepsi the proud, loyal beagle who would not leave her beloved Mommy's side, but wasn't given the choice. Her ticket to
the bridge arrived, and despite her many protests, she was forced to leave.

We found out about her Mommy's tragedy this morning. We refer to it as her Mommy's tragedy because Pepsi is at the bridge. She is mourning the loss of her Mom, but she has so many friends there, and
life is so simple, the air so sweet, the food so flavorful, the water so cold, and all pains gone, that, while she frets over her Mom, she is in a place where worries and woe are snuffed out as soon as they arise.

But for those she left behind the pain grips our heart, water drips from our eyes and dog and Mom stick close together, today more than ever, enjoying and savoring the warmth of each other's body. As much pain as
we are in, her Mom's pain must be unimaginable.

Most of us, who aren't lost, believe in a higher power, and believe that higher power is a force for good. But sometimes that power does things that leave us befuddled and questioning his wisdom. We could understand Pepsi's Mom being sick, lots of our Mom's have been sick. But Pepsi had her heart. And now it's gone. I'm just a little dog. I try to understand things. I just don't know why Aunt Gina has had so much pain. Pocket and I
would like to take that pain, chase it up a tree, then circle it growling so it didn't come back down. But you can't chase pain up a tree. Pain holds it's ground.

What we can do is take these little black buttons, with the white letters on them, and try to press
them to create words, and to string these words together to make sentences that convey our feelings and, with the guide of that power that has befuddled us, bring comfort to our poor Aunt Gina's heart.

These little machines, with the buttons with the letters that make words, can be used for so many different things, some of them very bad, but also some good. I know I don't have to ask, because it is already going on,
our TB friends, and Mommy's Facebook friends are doing it right, trying to reach across the galaxy to try to convey our pain, and express our love.

Fare thee well, my good friend Pepsi, our Pup of the Week, our Princess of the Brigade, our Queen of Doggyspace. You will live in more hearts than you ever met. You will be kept in our hearts for a long time. We will now share in your earthly duties: to comfort your Mom, to make her feel loved, to keep her safe, and while the loneliness inside you yearns for a reunion, we are sorry, but we are going to do every thing in our power to get her to stay with us as long as possible, and to help her take care of the other pups in your pack, and many more pups to come.

I am so sorry that Pepsi got called to the Bridge Aunt Gina. We all love you. We all pray for you. Today may have been the Brigade's most difficult day. You can put out a candle, but you can't put out a fire: No matter what life throws at us, we will stand like a stone wall, strong and firm, there for one another, with the
strength of a stonewall. A strength built on love.

Pocket's secret exposed

One of my strengths is that no one in my house believes I am very smart. To perputrate this belief I tend to do stupid things: I lose my ball while chasing it; I push it under furniture and bark until someone gets it; I hide my toys under the couch; I lock myself in the back room and sit silently until someone finds me; I fall behind the couch.

But all of this fits into my master plan. You see when everyone believes that you're challenged no one suspects you when things begin to be out of place or the house is not in the order Mommy likes.

In our kitchen, under our sink, is where the kibble is kept. We are eating food Mommy makes and she only mixes in a bit of kibble so there is always plenty there. When Mommy and Daddy have supper Daddy always opens the cabinet door and gets us a cu[ of kibble to feed us as we beg for table scraps. During dinner Mommy looks into the kitchen and sees that the cabinet door is still open and tells Daddy he didn't shut it. Daddy proclaims his innocence but Mommy reminds him how forgetful he is and tells him to stand up and shut the door.

Now this part I had not figured out yet. What to do once I got the door open. I could spill all the kibble but Daddy wouldn't be blamed for that. I tried standing up and sticking my nose in the kibble without knocking it over but this was not working. I had spent plenty of time drawing on the walls of my crate trying to mathematically figure out this problem, like John Nash in a Beautiful Mind, but had yet to solve it. But each day I would open the door and wait for Daddy to get yelled at.

But the entire time it was me, little Pocket Rocket, tee-hee-hee. This worked until Thursday when I went into the kitchen smelled the kibble stepped around Mommy and nosed open the door. "Pocket what are you doing!" she said. Busted.

So I froze. I learned long again if you do something wrong, and freeze, no one can see you, but I must have trembled, because she knew I was there, and then she had to apologize to my Daddy, and I know there is noting that makes Mommy madder than having to apologize.

Now I have to figure out another way to get to the kibble. I was so close, my mathematical calculations just needed tweaking. Now I'm thinking about going through the garbage disposal. What could go wrong?

My sweet Nana is a peace

My sweet Nana was laid to rest yesterday. Neither Pocket or I were able to attend the ceremonies. Pocket because she is a doofus, me because of some people's prejudices to dogs.

It seems half the town poured through the doors of Silva Funeral Home to see her off. It made a very long day for Mommy and Daddy Tuesday but Mommy told me she was proud to be by his side. (I would have been too. I think I would have made a wonderful pall bearer, or at least pall sitter. I could have been like Snoopy on his house of Slim Pickens at the end of Dr. Strangelove.)

Mommy and Daddy can fill you in on some of the particulars on their human book page. But Pocket and I would like to state how proud we are of our Brigade Members who were very well represented at the funeral.

First Hobo's parents Bruny and Walter. The three of them sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers that touched my parents down to the very bottom of their souls. Plus, in the center of the pictures, was Miss Connie's wonderful portrait of my parents, which brought tears to Nana's eyes when she saw it on her last Christmas Day.

And our friends who signed the on line condolence book! We were both so touched. It was even better when my Aunt Doesn't Like Pets brushed off the people who wrote saying: "They were all your people." More like all your pups.

This was a very hard time for Mommy and Daddy and you were all there for them and for that we love you. Right now I'm on the couch typing and Pocket is glued to Daddy's leg on the recliner giving off the healing love of a warm puppy.

I knew when we began to Brigade that we were warriors, fighting for the freedom to bark, but I learned it is also about the freedom to comfort, love, ease pain, and make laugh without being worried about being embarrassed.

If we need peace, love, and understanding, it's just a few keyboard strokes away. Thank you for being our friends, little boy pups and wise men dogs, tiny girl pups and golden lollipops. And thank you humans, you may not be as perfect as pups, but you do try hard, and that's all that counts.

We would be lost without you.

Kolchak and Felix are our pups of the week for June 6, 2010

Whew! This week has sucked more than a runaway vacuum with an airplane engine installed. When the tide turns against us and the vacuum begins to run wild we need to seek the two basic nutrients of existence: food and laughter. This week Kolchak and Felix were kind enough to provide them for us.

First, the Tanner Brigade leading scholars in the field of humor went to the canine library and found every pup related joke evehttp://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dcw6sgbv_16df2vqsfbr translated from bark to man. They then furiously edited them to present the first ever greatest blog of of dog humor. And now, if anyone wants to access it, they must join our Brigade, and we shall charge them through the snout for the privilege, then celebrate their contributions with much mead and grog. Or kibble and bits. It's up to you guys.

Speaking of kibble and bits, if their contribution to our site was not enough, on the very next day, Kolchak and Felix were researching again. But no dusty library for our boys on this day, they investigated Mommy's kitchen. Behind the pots and pans they found Mommy's recipes for wonderful meals and treats. As soon as they clicked publish you could hear the howl of Brigade members begging their Moms to whip up some of these delicious confections for our little tummies. Your Mommy is certainly our Top Chef.

So a big tip of the tail to you Kolchak and Felix. You know the Yorkie secret. That when you are a loss for barks do your darndest to leave everyone smiling. That is why I am such a talented wordsmith and Pocket is a clown. And the second secret, if that doesn't work, leave them with a full tummy. And just for the record, I am humbled by your complimenting my writing because you my friend wield a mean pen yourself.

And that is why you two are our pups of the week.

Foley's blog on Nana's song ending and a bad night

Hi friends. Another tough night for us. Mommy and Daddy went out around bed time and didn't come back until almost sun rise. I told Pocket it was because Nana's song was ending. But Nana stabilized over night and Daddy made the decision to end the vigil and let everyone try to get a few hours sleep. Nana's doctor called this morning to say she was still stable and not in pain. They have done everything they can medically do, except for an operation where they would remove her colon and Nana told the surgeon yesterday "To what end?" The C-diff infection she has been fighting since March finally got the upper hand and began to eat a holes through her intestines. When Mommy and Daddy got home last night Pocket and I were very worked up because they had been out so late and were giving off bad aura. They finally fell asleep, helped by my generous licks, even though they didn't seem to think so. Then, at 5:20, Mommy fell right out of bed. She hit her jaw on the end table and scraped her arm. This got us all worked up again. Then at 8:00 the mother of all thunderstorms rolled through. There was about ten minutes of straight thunder and lightning strikes that shook the ground. I think some frogs fell from the sky too.The lights when out too. Well that was it for Pocket and me. She was trembling, I was licking, and Mommy and Daddy weren't sleeping. So Friday was a day of very high highs and sky low lows. Mommy and Daddy are a little zombified this morning. We are lined up on the recliner on Mommy's left. We hope they don't need to go out again tonight but probably will. If you want to offer prayers just ask that she stay comfortable and she crosses to the bridge when she is summoned. Thank you all

Epilogue: Nana passed to the bridge at 2:15 EST. She was my favorite Nana. I will miss her

Thank you Aunt Connie and Zoe Boe

We got a wonderful gift in the mail. Our Aunt Connie, Zoe Boe's Mom, sent us the original drawing of our profile picture of us dressed up like the Pupranos. She has also provided us with Foley dressed as the King of Pop, Foley eating and Pocket pooping. They take up a very prominent position in our dining room by the fish. They are the most prized art work in our house.

If you haven't done so you should contact Aunt Connie about doing a picture. Last year Daddy hired her to do a picture of his Mommy and Papa. It was was wonderful and Nana's face beamed with joy. Poor Nana hasn't had much joy lately. She had something called a double bypass. Then her chest filled up with fluid. Then she had a hole put in her throat. Then that got better and she got an infection called C-Diff. The hospital, which did not do a very good job of it, called THE NEW BEDFORD REHABILITATION HOSPITAL, which we will not name, gave her the medicine she needed then decided she was cured. So they stopped giving her the medicine. Well the infection was still there, and it ate a hole in her colon, and caused her to go into septic shock. This morning Daddy was sure she was going to the bridge. But somehow today her kidneys began working again, her heart rate settled, and her doctor said he was "cautiously optimistic." She is one tough Nana. One thing I know for sure is she will not be going to that hospital that we will not mention THE NEW BEDFORD REHABILITATION HOSPITAL.

And then there is poor Mommy. Tomorrow she is going to visit that C word doctor. She felt something that shouldn't be there when she was examining herself. She is trying to be brave but I know she is scared. I know she is scared because I'm scared. Please say a little prayer for her. Mommy and Daddy are wearing faces that say that they are not worried but they are giving off worried vibes. It's probably nothing but troubling, so help us make our troubles go away.

Plus my friend from our condo place, Elwood, of the Lhaso Apso Jake and Elwood Blues Brothers, went to the bridge Saturday. I didn't find out until today. He had been sick for awhile. Please welcome him Bridge friends.

So I'm sorry there were not a lot of smiles in this post, but we just need some help for now, I'm sure things will turn out just fine. They usually do for Monsters. With friends like you, and the wonderful Aunt Connie, how can we go wrong>