Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

Hey!  That fish are my hot dog!

Monday Question

This might take some thought.  If there was a movie of a TV show about you what would it be called?

Pocket:  Smighties:  Small and Mighty Friends

River:  The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Tiger Becomes a Christmas Miracle

 There is no worse time to lose a dog than just before Christmas, but that was the fate facing my friend Tiger's mama Vicki when Tiger was diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of December.  The doctors said he would be at the Bridge before the holiday. 

I have been blessed to know Tiger most of his life.  He came to his family in the fall of 2011 as a foster dog, but his sweet disposition and snuggling ability made him a foster failure.  He joined Sierra and Nase (the blob) as Mama Vicki’s babies. When Sierra went to the Bridge, Tiger helped his mom walk the road of grief.

Mama Vicki has not traveled the road since, but when she received Tiger’s diagnosis, she knew she had to pull on her hiking boots.  She had a sad journey ahead.  
For Tiger, the end began with a limp.  He came in from going potty with a hunched back, wearing a pained expression, and favoring a leg.  His condition presented itself like a pulled muscle, but when he didn’t respond to treatments, dread began to creep into his mom’s mind.  This was something much worse. 

Tiger underwent numerous tests, but there was nothing conclusive.  When he was on pain medication, he was still the same active boy who chased squirrels and zoomed around the yard, but he was restless and breathing rapidly.  Others may not have noticed, but a mother does.  

After a week, the diagnosis was confirmed.  Tiger had cancer and was given, at most, four weeks with his mom. Tiger would never reach Christmas.  Mama Vicki brought him home to provide him with all her love for his remaining days.  

Tiger is a determined dog.  He knew his body was failing him, but he did not want to ruin his Mom’s Christmas.  He pledged to make it through the holiday, no matter how many deals he had to prepare for extra heartbeats or the pain he would endure. It would only be for a couple of weeks. He could make it for his mom. 

Faced with this reality, Tiger did the only thing he could do.  He rallied. He chased squirrels with unabashed vigor; he ate as if he would never eat again; he ran, jumped, and snuggled with his mom enough to qualify for a year’s worth of snuggling.

Sierra gathered her angel friends, and we used our immortal powers to give Tiger more energy.  This was a violation of our angel oath, but it was Christmas, and that was the best time to break the rules.

Tiger had been given so many heartbeats, so much energy, and possessed such an overflowing reservoir of determination, that he made it four days past Christmas.  Then his breathing became labored, and his mom knew she had to provide him relief. It broke her heart to help him go to the Bridge, but Mama Vicki was grateful for the extra days and that she got to celebrate Christmas with Tiger.  She knew it was a holiday miracle. 

When Tiger arrived at the Bridge, he took a big breath.  It felt so good to have his lungs filled with air again. He ran up the steps and then went flying past the waiting angels.  Sierra joined him. It had been years since they had run that way.

They have not forgotten their mom.  They are working with Nase to make sure she finds her way through the road of grief quickly, and that they shelter her from the rogue waves of sorrow. 

I am looking at Tiger right now, and he is smiling happily, remembering being a foster and ending up in the best possible family, which allowed him to be a Christmas miracle.  

Foley Trains Dogs to Help a Large In Need Community

2019 was the beginning of a dog revolution.  Pups were hired to work at hospitals, courtrooms, police stations, libraries, college campuses, airports, anywhere that people were under stress or needed comforting.

Next year I am happy to lead the movement to bring dogs to another needy part of the populace:  Assholes. 

Did you know that 68% of American families live with an asshole?  The number of people affected by assholes jumps to a hundred percent when we include people who watch the news.  The asshole problem in the United States has never been greater, and it keeps growing. I am not referring to the complaining, bitchy type of assholes but full-on red-faced, hate-spewing men's assholes.

At the Foley Monster Dog Training School for assholes, we train dogs for two different needs.  One for the asshole, and the other for people who are affected by assholes. Humans usually know which dog they need, but if they don't, it is because they are an asshole, and they will get the appropriate dog.

Dogs assigned to help assholes will be trained to sense when the asshole is about to let his asshole flag fly.  They will first try to distract and calm the asshole by stopping, sitting, and either nuzzling him or licking his hand.  If this does not mollify the asshole, the dog will stand on its back legs and put tender paws on the asshole's thigh or chest.  If that method fails, and the asshole is becoming more insufferable, then the dog will bite him. Nothing stops an asshole in mid-ass like a dog bite.
  
The dogs will wear a bright red vest, signaling that they are an asshole's dog.  If the asshole complains that he was bitten, the responding officer will recognize the vest, and tell the injured party that they shouldn’t have been acting like an asshole and excuse the dog.

The vest also acts as an early warning system.  When a man approaches with a dog in a red vest, everyone will think, “Here comes an asshole.”  If someone gets in a confrontation with a person walking a red vested dog, he will be told: “You knew he was an asshole, and you argued with him anyway.  It's your fault."  

If you start a fight with an asshole, it makes you an asshole.  The good news is that you will soon qualify for a new if somewhat nippy dog  So, next year, keep away from the person walking the dog in the red vest. They're an asshole.   

Dogs that work with the asshole's family members provide comfort and support.  They are excellent listeners. Although they can’t answer the question, “How did I end up with such an asshole?” they can look sympathetically at the speaker and ease the effects of extended time asshole exposure.  

We currently have hundreds of dogs in asshole training, but that will only cover a small fraction of the number of assholes presently plaguing society.  I urge everyone if they know an asshole, or even someone with asshole tendencies, contact us today by either sending an email to Ilivewithanasshole@gmall.com or calling 1-800-asshole. 

With your help, we can end the scourge of assholes in this country and be asshole free by the middle part of the next decade.

Don’t ignore your asshole.  Act now!

Never Trust A Green Man by Pocket Dog

 When  Mommy went out with her daughter on Monday, leaving Daddy home alone with us, the Christmas decorations were still up.  She asked Daddy not to touch them until she got home. Technically, he obeyed. But, by the time Mommy got back, all the decorations were gone:  Maybe for good.

Five minutes after Mommy left, there was a knock on the door.  A green man with curly feet and slight facial hair stood on the other side.  He introduced himself as T. Grinch, Christmas consultant. He told Daddy he was offering a free service to people in the neighborhood.  He would inspect all the Christmas decorations and give us a report on how to improve them for next year.  

River and I didn’t trust this guy, and we growled.  Daddy allowed the man into our house and threatened to crate us if we were not quiet.  Poor Daddy, he is an excellent judge of dogs but not of people.  

The man produced a red sack.  “When I was outside, I saw the two star-showers you have shining on the house and trees.  The lights are getting dim. The garland on the light pole is worn, and one of the lights you have wrapped around the pole was out.    Let me take these back to the shop where I can fix them.” Daddy did nor want to have a dim star-shower or droopy garland, so he agreed.

The man stopped in the kitchen.  He saw the balls hanging from the sunlight, the Christmas hand towels on the stove, and a stuffed snowman on the refrigerator.  “Marvelous,” T, Grinch said. “So tastefully done. But, some of these balls have lost their luster, and the snowman could use to be restuffed.  Let me take these back to the shop where I can fix them.” River and I tried to bark no, but Daddy wasn’t listening.  

He walked into the front room and picked up one of the dancing, singing stuffies that Mommy had put in the front windows.  “Those are fine; it’s just that the batteries don’t work.” T Grinch said he would take care of that and stuffed them into his bag and threw in the electric candles too without mentioning what was wrong with them.

He walked into the living room, where we had the brand new tree.  Certainly, he could not find anything wrong with it. “Very, very nice,” T. Grinch said feeling the branches. 

 “This is going to last a long time.” I was very relieved to hear this. I would hate to lose our new tree. “Have you had it, raincoated?” he asked.

Daddy asked him what that was.  “That protects the branches. These will dry out over a year or two, and then one night, you turn out the lights and bam! The whole place goes up.”

“I don’t want that!” Daddy said.

“Let me take the tree for you.  I will get it raincoated and have it right back for you.” the man said.  

“Do you want us to remove the ornaments?”

“That’s okay I will buff them up for you.  You don’t want a new tree and dim ornaments.”  Then the man grabbed the rest of our decorations.  “All this stuff should be shined up. You are going to have the best Christmas decorations on the block next year.  You are going to win a contest.”

River and I tried to run under the man’s legs and trip him.  We knew Mommy would be mad when she got home, and the decorations were gone.  But the man deftly moved around us. He went outside, threw the bag in a sled, and disappeared down the road. 
Daddy got our leashes and took us out to do our business.  Mr. Walker from across the street stopped by, and warned us that the Grinch was in town looking to steal Christmas decorations.  He showed Daddy a picture, and of course, it was the man.  
When Mommy came home, Daddy first said he took down the decorations for her and then said he gave them to the Little Sisters of the Poor.  It shouldn’t take long for Mommy to find

If any of you see a decorated tree with a picture ornament featuring me let me know.    After getting Santa in trouble, I am desperately trying to save next Christmas.

And no matter the season, don’t let the Grinch in your door.  

Wordless Wednesday