Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat this Caption

  

 

While the rest of his family smirked and grimaced Jake performed the Heimlich maneuver on Lucy saving her life.

Monday Question

 

We are waiting for Pocket to come back and she will join Foley on our Remembrance Table where she will stay until Mommy goes to the Bridge, then she and Foley will join her mom.

What have your parents done for either your remains or in tribute?

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SushI Arives at Rainbow Bridge

 

Today was another lesson for Pocket.  This one was going to be a difficult assignment.  She was accompanying me to welcome a friend to the Bridge.

    Pocket had been to one swearing-in ceremony before, her own.  You can’t judge how emotional they can be when you are the new angel.  It is like a bride who has never been to another wedding describing what it's like to watch someone get married.

    I told Pocket that our old friend Sushi was arriving, and my sister would be next to me at the swearing-in ceremony. I stressed that it was a solemn occasion, and Pocket needed to be on her best behavior.

    We saw Sushi emerge from the water after swimming across the River of Life.  She ran over the Bridge and stopped at the bottom step, looking up at us.  

    I looked at Sushi as I told Pocket that this was the most critical moment in the crossing-over process.  Sushi had to come to terms with her own passing and make a choice to climb.  We should not interfere.  Then I saw Pocket running down the stairs, taking Sushi by the paw and practically pulling her towards us.  Oh, man!  She attends one swearing-in ceremony, and the whole system breaks down.

    But, to my surprise, Sushi was happy that Pocket interfered, and when the duo reached us, she said she was unsure what to do until Pocket used sweet persuasion and saved the newest angel from an immortal life of walking like a ghost between the two worlds.  

Maybe Sushi did need some Angel encouragement to climb the stairs. After all, it was Angel's advice that allowed her to have a remarkable life. 

Sushi had been living a very unrewarding existence tied to a tree in the hot Arizona sun. One day she was visited by an Angel named Scrappy, who had recently gone to the Bridge. He told Sushi to pull on her chain until it broke and then make a break for it. Most of all, no matter what happened, she couldn’t go home. When all seemed lost, she should trust the angels. 

Sushi ran through the broiling hot Arizona summer heat until exhausted.  Then she was found and brought to a shelter.   Once Sushi recovered, it was determined that she was a sweet-tempered pup, and they placed her in foster care, where the parents aggressively tried to get her a new home. 

Meanwhile, Scrappy used all the dream persuasion he could muster to get his parents to find Sushi. It took a phone conversation with Scrappy’s rescue workers and an email to bring Sushi and his parents together. 

It took a lot of love to keep them together. Sushi proved to be a rambunctious pup from the day they met.  That did not stop her parents from adopting and providing Sushi a forever home. But it would take a lot of training and patience before she stopped eating the remote or anything else she found on a flat surface. 

But no amount of bad behavior would put asunder what Scrappy had brought together. It took many weeks, but Sushi learned to curb her enthusiasm and became her parents’  perfect pup. 

While the love Sushi and her parents had for one another will never end, the dark angels from the Bridge did temporarily part them physically. When she and Pocket reached Hobo’s landing, Sushi ran to Scrappy, and they thanked one another for Scrappy giving Sushi a great family and she for taking care of their parents. 

I had put Pocket in charge of the welcoming party, and she did a great job. The food was the first rate, and the video tributes to Sushi from dogs on both sides of the River were a classic touch. Having recently crossed the Bridge, Pocket helps her understand what a dog needs on their first night:  love, laughter, and bacon. 

Both Scrappy and I would agree. Having a sibling to share the Bridge experience does make or go faster. 

Pocket Meets Paddy and Makes Her First Cat Friend

 

Pocket has never been brave, but she always had an adventurous spirit.   After settling in at the house, she decided to explore the Bridge.

    She traveled west, towards Kitty Villiage, passing through Together Land, where dogs and cats cohabitate.  Pocket smiled uneasily at the kitties.  She had never developed a relationship with cats on the mortal side.  She spent her time barking and chasing them.  But, now that she was immortal, she felt the need to make amends. 

    Pocket found a cat looking over the river and asked if she could sit down.  The kitty smiled sadly and said Pocket was welcome to do so.  They sat in silence as Pocket tried to think of something to say.  Then, when the sun hit the kitty just right, she noticed it looked familiar. 

    “Excuse me, do you write a blog?” Pocket asked politely.  

    “Yes, I do,” the cat meowed.

    “Are you Paddy O’Malley?”  He confirmed that was his identity.  “I am Pocket Dog; I write a blog too.”  When Paddy recognized Pocket, they hugged, happy to see a familiar face.  Paddy asked how Pocket came to the Bridge, and she told him about her kidney issues.  “It was lung cancer for me,” Paddy sighed.  “I hid it from my mom as long as I could, but it is hard to hide an inability to breathe.”

    Pocket agreed and said for her it was an inability to stop pooping bits of blood and, later, to pee that betrayed the secret of her ill health. “That is when Mommy sent me to sleep-away camp to get better.”  

    At first, Paddy didn’t know what to make of the innocent dog’s inability to understand where she was. He then let it pass because thinking of his current circumstances as a temporary camp eased his pain over passing to the next world.

    Pocket asked how Paddy’s mom was doing.  “Not good,” he sighed.  “She was devastated when I passed.”  Pocket said the same was true of her parents.  “I knew they loved me,” Paddy said, “but not how much.  I guess there are secrets only answered at the end.”

    Paddy and Pocket found, despite being parts of species often at war, they had more in common than not.  They shared troublesome younger siblings that they often clashed with, they had bad teeth, and they both loved a warm lap.  Pocket was fascinated with tales of Paddy’s days living on the street and how he found his family and lived a happy life, one he was deeply saddened to leave.

    The rest of the afternoon, the two new angels traded stories about their lives and shared the unique pain that only someone who has tragically lost love can experience.  Pocket promised to teach Paddy how to become a bird so she can see her parents.  Paddy explained this was hard when you are a cat because of the overpowering urge to eat your own wing.

    Pocket apologized to Paddy for chasing so many cats before she came to camp.  She promised never to do it again.

    The two pledged to be best camp friends.  Then, as the sun was setting, they lay together, enjoying eachother’s warmth, until darkness came. 

    On the fifth day, Pocket made friends with a cat.

    I can’t imagine what is next.

Pocket Settles In

 

The first few days after Pocket arrived here were a whirlwind.  So many pups wanted to greet her that we didn’t have time to go home.  But, finally, Pocket being here became routine, as it has at your house, and that is the most troubling time.  

    I brought Pocket to our cottage on the river where we live with Blake, our pack leader, who takes care of us, Jax Gallagher, my trouble-making brother, Copper, my shy, self-conscious sister, and tiny Skye, a forever puppy.  I had worked miracles with Pocket for years, not just to keep her on the mortal side, but to keep her from me.  I hate when I have to add a room at our cottage.  I had to replant the rhododendron.  

    I showed Pocket her room.  I had it built by my many minions to exact specifications.  It had her squished kitty condo (she used to sleep in it, but, like Snoopy, she began climbing on top of it, unaware it could not support her slight weight); the little chair and red blanket she snuggled on; her red ball, her puppy bed, and a big new bed for her to sleep.  It also had screens on the wall constantly playing her memories, a big window that looked out on the river, that let in warm sunlight, and a ball throwing machine.  It was the best room in the house.  I was sure she would enjoy it.  

    In the middle of the night, I heard her paw step on the floor.  She was next to my bed. Pocket said she had never slept alone before and was scared.  I told her to fly up, and she could sleep at the end of my bed.  

    When I awoke, she wasn’t there.  I went to the kitchen and found her helping Blake make breakfast.  She was flipping pancakes while chewing on some bacon.  Blake, who didn’t let anyone in her kitchen, said she loved the help and called Pocket, the sister she always wanted.  What was I? Flaked liver in a savory sauce?

    My other family members, who all annoy me, were eating breakfast and fawning over Pocket when there was a knock on the door. Three little dogs, which I did not know, said they were there to meet the most famous Yorkie in the world.  That had happened several times before.   I always obliged them, but I didn’t like them interrupting my breakfast, the most important meal of the day with a break in the title.  I told them I would be out to take pawsies with them after I ate. “Not you,” they said.  “Her!” pointing to Pocket.  “We read all the stories.  She is a real hero.”  Pocket scampered outside to meet her fans and asked me to take their pictures.  For the Big Guy’s Oldest Son’s sake!  The whole system was breaking down!  

    Hattie Mae and Lilly came to our house.  I was happy to see them.  We could go somewhere together and have fun, away from the family. They said they needed a model for their petite fashion line.  I replied I could make time for them in the afternoon, and they answered, “no, we want Pocket.”  She burst outside, gave them a big hug, and they skipped off together.

    I was pissed.  I knew one dog who would understand being upstaged by Pocket.  I appeared to River as a ghost and told her how annoying Pocket was.

    “I wish she were still here,” River said surprisingly.  “I miss her.  Sometimes I walk around looking for her.  And our parents are sad.  I am doing what I can to deal with theor grief.”

I began to repeat how it had affected me when River interrupted.  “Foley, Pocket’s passing isn’t about you,” River observed.  “It’s about me!  Our parents are giving me all their love and attention!  I am overwhelmed.  If I am told what a good girl I am one time, I am going rogue.”  I left River ranting.  Selfishness is so unbecoming.

I slunk back home and heard a big party going on inside.  I was ready to tell all those people, and Pocket, to get out of my house.  I opened the door, and everyone yelled, “surprise!  Pocket had thrown a “Best sister in history” party for me.  Everyone paid tribute to me, and Pocket talked about how hard I worked to keep her from the Bridge for so long.  Then she gave a bone broth toast, and everyone cheered.

I thanked them all, even if I didn’t feel like the best sister ever.  But I promised I would try to be.

My sister.

I think I’ll keep her.

Wednesday With Words

 

Thank you to the wonderful and thoughtful person who sent me this lovely pet memorial wind chime.  I treasure it.