Monday Question

What is your new year's resolution?

Pocket:  To be quieter.  To, when I pee inside to make sure I am on the pads.  To try not to be a bother.


River Song:  To continue being perfect.

Duffus is our December 30, 2018 Pup of the Week

I gave the angel oath to what I hope will be my last angel of 2018 a few days before Christmas. His name, Duffus, was familiar to me, but so many names are. During a clear night, I went to Hobo’s landing and saw the new angel crossing the bridge.  Your first night at Rainbow Bridge is like your first night at college. You're on your own scared, excited for the new adventures ahead of you, and missing your parents.


When the new angel drew closer the faint bells of recognition rang somewhere far away.  It wasn't until he was in front of me and I got a good look at his face that I realized I knew him. "Duffus," I said in recognition.


He recoiled, like a recruit who expected to be hazed by his training officer.  I recognized the anxious, fearful look. It was Pocket's default face. "No," I said, gently touching his paw.  "Your mom named you Duffus. It is here on my paperwork." I showed it to him. Relief spread across his muzzle.
"Do you remember me?" I asked.  "Foley Monster, from Doggyspace."


"Yes," he said, as his tail began to wag.  "Of course, it's been so long. I am happy I know someone here."


"You know more dogs than just me.  Tommy Tunes is here, Hattie Mae, McDougal, and many more.  There is also a real Doggyspace village where we all live near one another and keep each other company."


"That's great," Duffus said, then he furrowed his brow.  "Oh no, all those parents I came to know and love. They must all be heartbroken."


"They were, and some still are.  Parents always carry the pain of our loss. You can help ease your parent's burden by finding a new dog and training him to act the way your parents want.  If your parents decide they want a pup you can slip into their dreams and tell them where to find the one you picked. If not, you'll learn how to ease your parents' burden in other ways.”

Duffus looked eager to learn these lessons. "I am so happy to have found you and my other friends here.  I was sure I would be lonely. I just wish, when we were mortals, we could have kept in touch. “


"It's that darn Facebook," I responded.  “Our parents went there because the site was supposed to bring folks together, but it drives them apart.  Whether you have 50 friends or 5,000, you see the same people's posts every day. If you are friends with someone but miss a few of their posts, you have to search to find them or miss what is happening with your friends.   They become like driftwood floating away from the shore. It's not like the old Doggyspace where you saw everyone’s posts. Those were good times” Duffus nodded.


Then we turned and began to walk towards Doggyspace village where Duffus would renew friendships with hundreds of friends.


I took one look back at the Bridge.  I hoped it would be the last time I saw it this year.  Then I prayed that the next year would be a damn sight better than the last one with not as many friends crossing the Bridge.

Foley Recounts Christmas Morning With Her Angel Family

Christmas morning broke crisp and clear here at Rainbow Bridge.  I could hear commotion in the living room. I got up and followed the sound.   Skye, a little black Yorkipoo, who came to the Bridge as a puppy in 2006, and into our lives when my parents saw his picture and fell in love with him, even though they knew he came from Lancaster Pennsylvania, home of some of the worst breeders in the world.  (Thank you, Amish, they can build a barn-like nobody’s business, but they can’t make a shelter for the breeding dogs). My parents knew Skye was going to have medical issues, and may not have a long life, but they pledged to love her for as many days as she has on Earth.  That was about 60 in money terms that was a few thousand. Skye had a neurological issue. Its cause could not be found. My parents regretted giving money to a breeder but not having Skye. A parent and dog can create quite a bond in 30 days.
Since Skye passed to the Bridge as a puppy, she is a perpetual baby. 

   Dealing with puppy energy is hard, especially when you know it is going to last for eternity.  But at Christmas seeing a joyful puppy ripping the wrappings off her presents brings a smile to even a Brussels Griffon’s face.

Copper came out of her bedroom.  She went to the Bridge in 2005. One morning we were put in my parents’ bedroom, Copper in her crate, me on my blanket, when mommy went out.  I woke up, but Copper didn’t. She had snuck off to the Bridge while we slept. She was only three years old. There were no answers.

Copper was as shy here as she was on the mortal side.  She stood in a corner watching Skye opening presents. I told Copper she could get hers.  She tentatively walked over to the gifts, pulled one out, and gently opened it. Santa had brought her a tennis ball launcher.  She dragged it outside in the fresh snow, which was neither wet nor cold, put her tennis ball in it, hit the switch and watched in joy as the ball sailed overhead.  She ran it down, brought it back, and continued to play for hours.

Jax, the only brother I ever had, who went to the Bridge in 2002, because of an undisclosed illness, which the vet misdiagnosed as a shoulder strain, leading to a lawsuit, which my parents lost because the vet spent $10,000 to pay other vets who said he made the right decision, instead of paying my parents the $1,000 they asked for, came flying through the house.  Jax always had the zooms. He almost knocked down the tree as the little papillon darted back and forth. He grabbed a gift, opened it, and found a bad squirrel, one who Jax had been gifted by the Big Guy because on Earth the squirrel had been selfish and not shared his nuts, so he was sentenced to time in purgatory, which he would serve by continually running for his life from Jax, until the Big Guy was satisfied.   The last I saw of Jax was his white tail going out the door.

My big sister Blake, a cute black and white Shih Tzu, who went to the Bridge in 2001, after a battle with cancer, (my parents lost four pups between 2001 and 2006, three of them young, but the had me, so they were okay) has become house mother to us all. 

 She loved mommy, and she is living her afterlife like mommy lives her life, with lots of cooking, baking, and cleaning. She showed me her new Calphalon Classic pots and pans. Santa knows Blake well. I would have hated the gift, but Blake loved them and went back to the kitchen to cook some more.

Then I saw a small present with my name.   I only asked for my parents’ lives to be easier so I couldn’t imagine what it was.  I opened it and found a big nightshirt. At first, I was confused, but then I sniffed it and realized it was one of mommy’s old nightshirts.  She must have thrown it out and Santa saved it and gave it to me. It was the best gift I ever received.


While Blake was cooking, Jax was tormenting the bad squirrel, Copper was chasing her ball, and Skye was walking around with a new squeaky toy in her mouth happily biting it and laughing each time the toy made a noise, I went back to bed, on top of mommy’s nightshirt, breathing in her scent, and had the best night’s sleep I had at the Bridge.

A For Sale Sign at the Groomers? What Has God Wrought?

Last week, I received the most distressing news. I was taken to the groomer to have my anal glands squeezed. Ever since we started taking “No Scoot” chewable after Pocket’s glands became impacted, mine have frequently been filling requiring monthly squeezing.   Unlike Pocket, I did not have anything stuck up me — just a gentle outside squeeze and then some warm water for my butt.

If having your butt squeezed is the second worst thing that happens at the groomers you know it was an eventful trip. When we arrived, we saw a “For Sale” sign planted on their front lawn. We were hoping that it was just the neighboring house and not the business, but when we got inside, we learned the truth. The shop was closing, and the owner was retiring and their daughter, our groomer, was moving to Las Vegas. Damn that Wayne Newton.

My parents have been going to this groomer for more than 20 years.  She has always given mama's dog's perfect cuts. The groomers have Griffons in their family and know we need meticulous care.  Our beards must be rakish, not hillbilly. Our mustaches well-kept trim and fluffy.

Besides my physical appearance, I am suffering from mental anguish. One of the groomers mates her studs with my first pet parent's lollipops.  My original mom tried me as a breeding dog, but I knew right away it wasn't the life for me. I have enough trouble with the government sucking the life out of me; I don't need my offspring doing the same. My failure as a mom is my greatest achievement. It caused my first mom to realize I needed a family of my own.  A week after Foley went to the bridge Pocket had a grooming appointment. My mom, making conversation, inquired about the owner’s Griffs, and were told about the failed mother who needed a home, and ten days after the adventures of River Song (formerly Zell) began.

Periodically when I am at the groomers, I will see the dashing young Griffon who I did the unnecessary, unspeakable, unimaginable, unproductive act that leads to several weeks of discomfort, one night of extreme displeasure and the dumping of the brats before they could ignore me at the holidays.  Studly and I don't have the desire to make whoopee anymore. Now we just sit back by the watering dish laughing and asking “do you remember when?”

Our current groomer did give a recommendation for another business, one who is operating in a clean well-lit place and know how to give the particular haircuts we need. Only time will tell. But I doubt it will be people who care so much about pets and their parents that one of their workers will fly to Florida and bring a dog like me home to a grieving duo.  Those are hard to find.


With my groomer closing 2019 shaping up to be a bad year for Griffons.  I hope it proves to be a better one for humans

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

We all got the same pajamas for Christmas. Now our parents are never going to be able to tell us apart!

Koda is our December 23, 2018 Pup of the Week

Newly arrived angel Josie was overlooking Rainbow Bridge when she saw a black dog slowly following Josie’s fresh paw prints. Josie knew that gait, and when the wind blew from the south filling Josie's nose with the dog's scent, she had no doubt. Josie dashed down the steps towards the figure she knew was her brother Koda.

They met mid-way across the Bridge enveloping one another in loving hugs.

“Koda,” Josie said softly.  “What are you doing here? We agreed you would stay with Mama and help her cope with my passing.”

“I'm so sorry Josie,” Koda said as tears fell down his fur.  “I think we were together so long our hearts began to beat as one. When you left my heart was like a band without a drummer unable to find it's rhythm. It began beating too fast.  Mommy knew something was wrong and left me at the vet when suddenly my last heartbeat shocked my body, and I arrived here.”

Koda and Josie embraced again and then together they finished Koda's final journey. I was waiting for them having received a message that Koda was due. I hoped it was a mistake but when I saw them my hopes were dashed. Too many of our friends (Chase and Gucci, Jasper and Sophie Rae)  from the same pack have passed within days of one another. It is as unimaginable now as it was when it first happened.

I swore Koda in, as I had done Josie. The same tears, maybe more, fell from the heavens. Scooby made Koda's wings green and orange to remind him of autumn at the barn.   Hundreds of their friends gathered around the new angels trying to get the grieving duo to smile just once and hopefully bits of happiness would follow.

I knew my friends were in the best possible paws.  I slowly walked away from the group. My sadness, as is often the case, gave way to burning anger at the all knowing, all seeing, deity known as the Big Guy.

I hiked up to the peak of the highest mountain, my tiny paws clenched with rage. I didn't know what I wanted to say.  When I reached his front door, I decided to leave an expression of my disappointment by peeing my name in the snow.

When I got to the “Y”, the door opened. “Foley why are you peeing on my walkway?” the Big Guy asked.

“First, you summon my friend Josie here just before Christmas and if that wasn't bad enough her brother was called days later.  Their mom was grieving Josie, and then you took Koda. It was cruel. She deserved better from you.”

The Big Guy stroked his beard. ‘You are right, Foley She did deserve better, so did those who lost their spouses or their babies this week or any week for that matter.  But I can't stop time because someone is already suffering or it's the holidays. It is time that eventually brings everyone here. Now I never promised anyone an easy life. Bad times need to come to clear way for more good times. Humans are my greatest invention.  No matter how much I knock them down, they keep getting back up. They are so resilient.

I didn't hear the rest.  I was busy taking a dump on his back step because some days make you want to take a poop at the Lord's door. Thankfully he's forgiving.

I went back down the mountain to Josie and Koda's new house.  Neither showed the slightest interest in furnishing it. They were both sitting outside looking off into the distance towards their mom's barn as the early day’s sunlight twinkled off their coats

Josie said they didn't want to establish roots in Doggyspace because they needed to be with their mom all the time.   I informed them that trips to the mortal side were exhausting. For every minute there they would need a minute of rest here.

Koda smiled.  “So we can only spend half the day with our mom?” he asked. I told him that was true.   “Then we can each spend half a day with Mom and the other half sleeping?” Technically he was right, but they wouldn't be able to enjoy any Angel activities.

“We wouldn't be able to enjoy them anyway,”  Josie said. “Not with Mama in pain.” They divided visiting times so their mama would never be alone.  At least one of them would always be an unknown sound, a glimmer in the corner of her eye, something unexplainable that dashes across the barnyard at night.

I hope Mama Barbara can be comforted by knowing one of her angels will always be with her and that she is graced by the perseverance and resiliency the Big Guy promised.