My Human Went to the Rainbow Bridge

No one here probably remembers me, Levi the Schnauzer. I’ve grown up and haven’t been blogging. But something happened I want to share with the world because it hurts so much. My daady died! My human daady died and I’m so worried because he went to the Rainbow Bridge without his wheelchair. He needs that chair and Moomie just took it to a place called Goodwill. If they really have good will they’d bring it back and bawl my moomie out for leaving it there.

God, the house is quiet! I miss how my daady and me had howling contests each morning until mean Moomie would tell us to knock it off. I miss sitting at Daady’s feet during breakfast, at the ready to round up stray Cheerios that might roll down my way. I miss giving Daady doggie kisses each night. And I miss the fact that every time my pawrents got ready to go some where Daady would campaign to let me ride along. The house is sooooooooooo quiet without him. Moomie doesn’t even turn the lights on in the living room anymore where Daady and I used watched TV.

I started sleeping on the foot of Daady’s side of the bed---something I never did before. At first I’d stay just until the lights went off. I kept thinking Moomie would tell me to get off. But she didn’t. Then it went to a couple of hours before I’d move some time during the night. Last night was the first night I spent the whole night, and not just at the foot end of the bed. When I woke up I was stretched out like I owned the place. I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t mean to do it but when Moomie woke up, she smiled at me. So I know she’s okay with me keeping Daady’s bed from getting lonely at night like I do.

Cooper and Jason, my older brothers, are at the Rainbow Bridge. I never got to meet them but I heard stories about them and I think they’ll take good care of Daady up there. At least I hope so. I hope they get him a new wheelchair. I still can’t believe Moomie gave his away! But then she’s been doing all kinds of dumb things since Daady died. Some times I’m afraid to let her walk out the door for fear she’ll get lost and won’t come home. ©

Moomie's widowhood blog is here.

Pee High, Pee Often

Mom's been busy day dreaming over house plans and hasn't taken the time to help Levi get on the computer. She gets like that sometimes---drawing blueprints has been a life-long hobby of hers. Anyway, since Mom wasn't keeping in touch, I decided to take a break from my angel duties up here at the Rainbow Bridge to keep the blog from drifting off into oblivion.

Actually, what drew my thoughts back to earth was my older brother Jason. I caught him peering down through the magic water at Mom and he was tail-wagging happy, laughing so loud a group of dogs had gathered at his side. I asked him what was so funny and he pointed down at a photo Mom had found in a box of stuff that had been in a closet for the past six years.

Jason went on to tell about how Dad was never without his 35mm camera with a long, telescopic lens back in his younger years and Dad would drive Mom crazy because he took a zillion photos of Jason leaving pee mail all over the world. They'd go on vacation and half the photos he'd come home with would be of Jason peeing on things like: "You are Entering the State of Wyoming" signs, or a tire on the biggest front end loader in the world, or a tin can in the desert.

Dad's favorite "pee mail" shot of my big brother is the one below and Mom had been looking for it for a long time. So she was happy when it turned up in the closet with a bunch of other framed photos that never got unpacked when they moved in .


I liked seeing Jason in this photo. Up here at the bridge he's a Mr. Perfect, do-good Angel Dog and it was fun to see him acting all macho in the real world. Who would have guessed he and Dad were so obsessed with pee shots? But I seriously hope Mom shows this photo to Levi. He's a year old and I'm worried about him still peeing like a little girl! That can't be normal.

Cooper

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Dog Dancing---is She Crazy?

A bunch of us dogaroons up here at the Rainbow Bridge were lounging under the tennis ball trees discussing our humans and their habit of making New Years Resolutions. So I decided to peek down at my family and see what silly things Mom put on her list this year. Mom's a list kind of person so I knew she'd have one. Years ago she even made one of those "100 Things to do Before I Die" lists and recently she found it again. She'd actually done about half the things on her list and decided she should make a new list. The first thing she put down was: "Shorten this list to 25 things to do before I die. I'm old!"

I digress. For her New Year's Resolutions Mom had put down the customary weight and exercise related things that seem to be required for humans to list. She had a few improve-your-personality type things as well, pretty standard stuff for Mom. Then she had one crazy, totally unobtainable thing listed. Even crazier than the time she vowed to learn how to belly dance. In 2009 she wants to---get this---learn how to do dog dancing with my baby brother, Levi!

Mom thinks it will kill a flock of birds with one stone. 1) It will give her some exercise; 2) it will give Levi some exercise; 3) it will create a stronger bond between Mom and Levi; and 4) it will entertain Dad with their practice sessions. What Mom left out of the equation is that fact that she's old and she can hardly walk. Sure, she'd got one new knee but the other one won't even bend. It's shot and needs replacing, too. She can't walk fast or for long without pain, let alone run and if she tries to dance, she'll look like a character in a low budget Frankenstein movie. I love her but a hunchbacked old woman dragging a leg behind her doesn't exactly inspire my confidence in her ability to pull off dog dancing with Levi.

Levi, the little trouper, is doing his part. Already he's learned how to bow, shake right and left, do circles on command and is learning to go through Mom's legs. He can also do the normal obedience things like sit, down, stand and heel. And get this. When I looked down on them today Mom was sitting in her rolling computer chair trying to get Levi to back up and come forward as she rolled to and from him. I think she's mixing wheelchair dancing up with dog dancing. I know she's watched those wheelchair dancing competitions but I'm not sure she has a clue what dog dancing is all about.

I tried to talk to my older brother, Jason, up here the Bridge about Mom's craziest. He's a full-fledged angel-dog and a newbie trainer on top of that. But he says I can't interfere. I tried to tell him she's going to fall and break her neck but Jason is firm about the rules. No ifs, ands or buts about it I can't erase 'dog dancing' off Mom's New Year's Resolution list and her memory and replace it with 'knit everyone on the block a sweater.' It's a pain in the butt sometimes to have all this angel-power not be able to use it in so-called wasteful ways. How is it wasteful to make my mom act her age? On the good side, most of her New Year's Resolutions don't make it to April. ©

Cooper

Wheelchair Dancing Competition

Wheelchair and Dog Dancing

Paragility Show and Dog Dancing

Carolyn and Rookie, Dog Dancing Team

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Christmas Time at the Bridge

The holiday season up here at the Rainbow Bridge is a busy and happy time. There are parties and bark-alongs and lots of speculating on what our humans are giving each other for Christmas. We've even got a good natured pool going. We're trying to see which of us angel dogs can guess the most gifts correctly. No way can I win the pool because there is just my mom, dad and Levi to exchange gifts in my family but Dad and Levi can't go shopping so that just leaves Mom to buy two gifts.

The Christmas gift pool has made the lines up here at the magic water extra long. The magic water, you'll remember, is under the bridge and it allows us to view our humans down on earth. But even waiting in the lines is fun because we all exchange stories about our holiday times on earth when our humans would dress us up in reindeer antlers or velvet bow ties and other silly things like the blinking, light-up collar I had for many years. We'd also swap stories about the trees that accidentally got peed on and the gifts that got ripped open.

One day after waiting in line I finally I got my time at the magic water and I could see a red Christmas fabric neck scarf for Levi sitting on the dining room table and an unopened U.P.S. box sitting by the front door as Mom and Dad came back from the grocery store.

"I think Cooper's Christmas present came!" Mom told dad.

A gift for me? I thought. What on earth could they get for me? I've been dead for ten months now.

I couldn't wait to tell the other angel dogs what my quirky Mom was up to. I couldn't wait myself to see what she was up to! But imagine my out right shock when she opened the box and revealed a custom make grave marker. No more magic marker on a patio stone for me! I'm getting a REAL memorial marker and if Levi pees on this one like he does on the homemade marker the little bugger is going to feel my wings fluttering my anger in his face. ©


P.S. The photo above was taken of me about six years ago. Mom found it on an old roll of film she just had developed. The memorial marker came from www.harrietcarter.com

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Levi, The Material Boy

Things up here at the Rainbow Bridge are slowing down for me. We had so many volunteers wanting to do extra duty to help with the displayed dogs down in the hurricane areas that I got rotated back to my normal job of watching over my earth bound family. A few nights ago when I checked in on them I had to laugh at Mom. She was lying in bed wide awake and watching CNN at 3:30 in the morning while dad slept on one side of her and Levi slept on the other. She's got a not-so-secret addiction to politics which explains why Levi's blogging time is getting short-changed lately.

This morning Mom was talking to Dad about how many material things they've acquired since Levi came along. In the garage are two expandable, freestanding garden fences plus a foot high wire fence. They keep Levi from getting 'lost' while bug hunting in the corners of their three stall garage. It's his favorite play ground. Another expandable garden fence is at the deck steps to keep Levi down in the dog yard when it's raining. And I can't count high enough to catalog all the new toys in the house plus all my old ones that Levi inherited.

Mom's also hauled my old plastic crate and wire cage up from the basement to use for Levi. The plastic crate she's been using in the car since adoption day but she'd been resisting having the wire cage in the laundry room until about a month ago. (I didn't use either one in the last years of my life.) It was something the obedience class instructor said about dogs that aren't used to cages having a hard time when they have to be boarded or go to groomers that made her decide to get Levi cage broke. That and seeing all those hurricane dogs having to be caged while they wait to be reunited with their humans. But Levi hasn't had a bit of trouble in the cage. He's quiet, doesn't try to get out so Mom's no longer worried about him being cage savvy.

Also new: Levi first winter coat. Pretty macho, don't you think. Mine was too small for him.

Below is Levi's 90 foot clothesline that Mom uses in the back yard and his Easy Walk harness. The little blue thing is a Bling Blinker for Levi's collar. It turns on at night and can be seen up to ½ mile. The first night of adult obedience class Levi managed to chew the front off the harness while in route to the class, a ten minute trip---while he was wearing it! Mom bought a cheap dog collar---for the
fabric---and located an upholstery guy who was able to sew and save the pricy harness. The obedience class instructor helped Mom get it adjusted properly so he can't get it in his mouth again. But Mom's not taking any chances. He only wears it when he's working.

Look at all the grooming tools Levi has! Only one is a left-over from my days on earth and Mom plans to buy a table clap and hook like groomers use because Levi is still fighting getting brushed out.

But the real topper is that Mom talked to an electrician a couple of days ago about putting a spot light in the dog yard so she can see him and the toads better at night. That Levi, I don't get his fascination with toads and slugs. Me, I stayed away from these critters. Flies, yes, in my younger days I chased them around the house but I don't recall catching as many as Levi does. Mom says it was nice not having them in the house this past summer. (She's not good at closing doors when she lets Levi out so they sneak in.) But one day she purposely let a fly come inside just to keep Levi busy while she and Dad went away. Sigh, he's just as spoiled as I was.

It's time to get back to my nap. There's a big feather presentation ceremony tonight and I'm pretty sure I'll be getting a few permanent feathers added to my training wings. But you know what? I'm not as excited about that as I was when I got my first feather because---well, how do I say this?---because I'm learning that helping those in need has its own awards. ©

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Report from the Bridge

When I was on earth I lived in a circle of love. I never knew what it was like to worry about where my next meal would come from nor did I ever experience the fear of not knowing if I'd ever see my home and humans again. Since the hurricanes came to the south I've been getting an angel's view education and it's not an easy lesson to learn. I can look down on earth and see Levi living the life I once lived then in the blink of an eye I can view the displaced and weary dogs who came through hurricanes Gusto and Ike. The contrast makes me so sad.

But along with the sadness comes a sense of pride and renewed respect for what humans are able to accomplish. From my vantage point up here, I've seen the animal rescue workers work until they are bone tired doing what they can and by watching them I've come to understand the true meaning the term 'angels on earth.' I'm glad my mom has written a check to help them out. My angel team is trying to whisper heavenly messages to as many earth bound humans as we can in hopes that they'll all do the same. There is still so much work to be done to help those pets who lived through the wrath of nature.

Speaking of nature, the rains have quit where my humans live, the dirt has dried up and Levi is back to getting off the deck to do his business. And he's back to inspecting the fence in the dog yard in hopes that someone had cut an escape hatch since his last sentry duty. When I checked on him today I had to laugh. Mom had hooked an umbrella to the bottom of the deck steps so the little imp would have a place to hide from the "evil rain" that he hates so much. It looked pretty silly on such a bright, sunny day---a big red, watermelon slice design umbrella popped up and point right at me as I was looking down. Like I said, Levi lives in a circle of love and I pray for all I'm worth that that never changes.

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Rain, Rain Go Away!

Lord almighty it's been a busy week up here at the Rainbow Bridge. My angel brother, Jason---affectingly known as Mr. Do-Good----gathered up a bunch of us dogaroons to help the displaced canine from hurricane Gusto. He's an angel trainer so I'm learning a lot about using our powers. We've been doing our best to help calm the fears of all those displayed dogs caught in Mother Nature's path and I'm learning more about pushing the envelope of what we can and can't do to interfere with life on earth. As I've blogged before, there are rules for being an angel and Jason says I have a tendency to overstep what angels are suppose to do. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I just don't see why I have to be so subtle about helping where I can. But I like earning those pretty, permanent feathers to my trainer wings so I'm trying hard to tow the line.

Speaking of rain and nasty weather, Levi has been giving Mom a fit about all the rain they are getting and I haven't had the time to help out with his fears of going outside when heaven is crying---you know, there are priorities and hurricanes trump plain old rain. This morning it took Mom over an hour and a half to get him to go outside. Even holding an umbrella over his head didn't help. In and out of the door leading to the garage he went---he really had to GO---but Mom had to literally push him out of the garage and onto the deck. Poor Mom, it's supposed to rain all week. She even tried putting my old raincoat on him but he's a nudist and fought that idea tooth and nail.

Well, I've got to get back to work before Jason finds out I took a break. He's a slave driver about his do-good projects and he's extra hard on me. I do have to admit he's pretty inspirational. He doesn't have much trouble getting newbie angels to volunteer to take on extra angel work. I grumble a lot, but secretly I admire his wise and patient teaching methods. It's not like we HAVE TO take part in any of his projects. We can take all the time we need to learn all the ins and outs of being a full-fledged angel-dog. ©
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The Long, Hard Cry

Time has no meaning up here at the Rainbow Bridge which is my excuse for not keeping up with my blogging. I just got busy with angel training; I'm learning to give new born puppies a little angel power push into the world. I've also done my share of shade sitting under the tennis ball trees. Some of the dogs up here are crazy about those trees. They're not content, like me, to just wait for the balls to fall on their own. You can always find a few canines jumping on their hind legs, plucking yellow prizes from the low branches.

I haven't been checking up on my earth family much lately either. But I came running to the magic water recently when I heard my mom seriously sobbing like I hadn't heard her do in a very long time. She's not generally a crybaby like that. I could feel her pain all the way up here and it broke my heart. I barked for my angel brother to come along and we saw her standing in front of the Moving Wall, the replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. She was telling her friend that she didn't expect her emotions to boil up like that. She didn't stop crying until she and Dad got back home and she took a long nap.

They had seen the real Wall in Washington D.C. a few years after its dedication in 1982 and at that time they spent a long time looking up names in the book so they could find them on the wall. Mom had been pen pals with over fifty serviceman back then. Boys, really, she says. After one of those servicemen came back home they met and he affected her life in ways she still doesn't talk about to anyone.

"So many wasted lives," she kept saying in her head. "So many families touched by all those deaths." And by the ones who came home with physical and emotional scared. There was one homemade plaque placed at the end of the memorial with a name and the words "death by diaxin." It really affected Mom and Dad. Dad had a friend who fought the effects of Agent Orange for decades and died now long ago. Mom felt so badly that she didn't think to bring any flowers along to place beneath the Wall. When they visited the real Wall she brought a poem she wrote.

Tomorrow is Schnauzer Saturday and I'm hoping Mom will help Levi blog about his adventure in Senior Citizen Land but it might be Sunday. You know how old people are. One day is just like another....except on Saturdays. That's when my humans savor the farmers market. And I need to get back to keeping a closer eye on Mom. She's been a little down lately. ©

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The Naughty Puppy Catalog

Anyone there? Anyone there? Levi here. Me graduated from puppy obedience class last night! Moomie says we might go back in September. Me hope so. Me will miss playing with my friends.

Levi, it's not Schnauzer Saturday yet.

Me gotta go. Moomie's coming. If she catches me on the computer Levi will get in trouble.

Can you believe my baby brother? He finds the most creative ways to get into trouble. This past week he's been a handful with his wussy reaction to his neutering surgery and he's added several curious items to his naughtiness catalog. 1) He's started playing on the internet when Mom's back is turned and 2), he's been peeing on my gravestones. What's that all about? Seriously. Does he somehow know that I'm the one whispering advice in his little ear? I doubt it but it's got me puzzled and I don't mind telling you, it's kind of creeping me out. I guess I should have my angel powers checked out to make sure I'm doing things right.

In addition to the wussiness, grave peeing and internet episodes, Levi's figured out that one of Dad's feet doesn't work very well so he's been snatching the sock right off that foot and running with it. Every time Mom turns around she has to track the sock down and return it to Dad's foot. He's got no respect for Dad's disability. Well, that's not entirely true. When Mom helps Dad with his showers, and has to transfer him in and out of the shower stall, Levi has learned to sit-stay just fine. But I think he's only doing it for the treats, not because he really understands the safety issue of getting in the way.

Mom's got treats in all her pockets. She never did that for any of her other dog-kids. Half the time she forgets to remove the kibble from her pockets when she does the laundry and it gets washed and dried. Weird, it doesn't look any different having gone through the laundry process. It just falls out the dryer door and Mom scrambles to pick it up before Levi gets to the detergent laced stuff.

Got to go. It's been busy up here at Rainbow Bridge and I want to tag along with the welcoming committee, help out if I can. ©


By the way, if you haven't seen the Bone Relay for the 2008 Paw-limpics, you have to check out the neat video that Lenny made. What a lot of work he put into that video and it turned out to be an awesome start to the Paw-limpics.

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Ghosts from the Distant Past

Mom's walking down Memory Lane again. You can always tell when she does that because she heads for the book shelve where she keeps the photo albums. She's not a big picture taker but she inherited my grandma's photos so she's got lots of stuff from when she was a little kid. It's a shame Levi never met our grandmother. She loved her granddogs almost as much as her grandchildren and she was always there to babysit me if needed.

Here's some photos of the dogs that were in the household when Mom was growing up. This first one is of Mickie and Mom. One of them is fifteen months old but it's kind of hard to tell which one from the label Grandma put on the photo. Could be both.



The second photo (below) is of Pat. She was my grandmother's favorite dog. She even had that photograph blown up and hand-tinted so she could hang it on the wall. Grandma liked to tell a story about how Pat became the surrogate mother of a litter of kittens. The mother cat was young and didn't want any part of nursing or being around her kittens so Pat would hold the mother down with her paws and make her stay there long enough for the kittens to nurse. Pat would clean the kittens with her tongue, carry the kittens in her mouth, and taught them to use the sandbox. And when it was feeding time again she'd hunt the mother down and repeat the whole process. The mother cat never did learn to like motherhood but Pat sure did.



The photo below is of King. He's the first dog Mom remembers really well. He was her constant companion for many years. And he was the source of her first real heartbreak when he got lost at their summer cottage. Grandma thought he probably wandered into a farmer's field and got himself shot but for months after he came up missing they'd run up and down the roads in the area, looking for the lost King. He's the reason Mom's dogs from adulthood---angels Sarah, Jason, and me---got so little freedom off the leash.



The photo below is Mom (on the left), Cindy and one of Mom's cottage friends. Cindy was a black Belgium shepherd who had been abused by a previous owner. It took months for Grandma to teach Cindy to trust people again. She became intensely loving and protective around women but men had to earn her respect.



The next photo is of Grandma, Cindy and Scottie. Scottie was a blond dog of questionable parentage and she lived to be 23 years old. She was blind for 21 of those years. When she was young she had a form of polio and was completely paralyzed. She spent months going back and forth to a Veterinarian College for experimental treatment. Some treatments involved getting shots above her eyes; that's how she lost her eyesight. She lived in the bathroom during that time and grandpa carried her outside several times a day and would hold her up to pee and poop. It wasn't so much to save the dog that grandpa did all that. The drugs were something they wanted to test for human use and Grandpa agreed so long as the college didn't get to keep Scottie. He wanted to be the one to decide when she was ready to give up. She never did.



Scottie did learn to walk again and Mom would wear bells so Scottie could follow the sound around the block for exercise. Grandpa said that any dog who went through all the stuff Scottie went through deserved to live---blind or not---so he built a pen for her with a deluxe dog house cut into the garage. Lately Mom's been wondering if Scottie was the one who taught her that you don't give up on sick people, even when doctors say there's no hope like they did with my dad eight years ago. Dogs do teach kids a lot about life. From her childhood dogs Mom learned about love, loss, devotion, heartache, joy, human cruelty, triumphing over adversities, and the fact that you don't have to be a mother to give motherly love.

I've never met Mickie, Pat, King, Cindy or Scottie up here at the Rainbow Bridge. I hear rumors that dog souls that old---Mickie's been gone nearly sixty years---get recycled back to earth again. I guess it doesn't matter if it's true or not. But one thing is for sure, we canine have an important part to play in the balance of things on earth and in the memories of people like Mom.

The next four photos are Mom's adulthood dogs:

Angel Sarah, a puppy mill poodle who only lived five years. Dim-witted but loveable.



Angel Jason, a smart-as-a-whip poodle who got a rolling dog house from his human dad so he never had to get left behind when they went on vacation.



Me---Angel Cooper---with my friend Phil. If you've read any of my posts before I crossed over the Rainbow Bridge you know I had a bit of a reputation as a bad boy.



And last but not least, the very much alive Levi who Mom loves so much it scares her.



© Jean Riva 2008



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The Neutering Ritual

Poor Levi is having a bad day and he's desperately trying to piece together what happened when he went to the vet's office to get neutered and micro-chipped. Mom told Dad that my brother's surgery went good and they don't expect any complications. But poor Levi doesn't like the cone and all he's done since he got home is sit, trying to tell Dad his troubles. Listen to the thoughts he's blasting out of his little boy brain, trying to connect to dad to get some answers ……

What happened to Levi? Moomie took me to the visit the nice vegetarian---or was it veterinary? (Darn words get so mixed up!) But while we were waiting a lady snatched me from Moomie's arms and put me in a wire cave---no---cage. Me don't remember what happened next but when me woke up from sleeping me discovered something missing. Me looked every where for my walls---no---balls but they are gone. They used to be right here between my legs. Me almost sure it was my back legs but me looked in between my front ones, too, just in case they moved. Me counted my foes---no---toes and they are all still on my foots---no---feet. (Darn English!) Me checked my tail. It's still there. Just my balls are gone. Then Moomie came and brought me home and put this thing on my head. Now Levi can't walk anymore! Me hope Moomie doesn't get sad---no---mad when she finds out my balls got lost. Me don't feel good. Levi needs a nap!

I'm a little stressed up here watching Levi being so scared and confused over his surgery. When he gets to sleep I'm going let him know he'll be just fine without those body parts. That's not a frivolous use of angel power, do you think? He's really worried and it won't take but a second to whisper reassurances in his ear. He should know that humans apparently think testicles are just accessories we don't need and to tell you the true, I never missed mine for very long.

There's a rumor going around, though, that neutering makes dogs more responsible citizens. Judging by all the neutered angel dogs I've met, it must be true because there are some awesome guys up here. Don't get me wrong. Those fully equipped dogs are great, too. It's just that some of them seem pretty damned proud that they escaped the neutering ritual---oops, I've got to quit swearing. I'll have to get one of my fully equipped friends to tell me exactly what those balls are for. I never gave it much thought when I was still on earth.

Hey, look at that! Mom took pity on him and put Levi in a onsie. That did the trick of covering up his stitches so he can't pull them out. No more cone! He's even got a little hole cut in the onsie for his tail. He's settling down for a nap now so I've better get ready to do a little angel business. ©

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Schnauzer Saturdays

The 'Dogs With Blogs' community has a nice tradition going on many blogs where they set aside one day of the week for blogging something different. There's Wheelie Wednesdays and Rosco Wednesdays which are like having guest bloggers come in to tell about their adventures. There's also Thankful Thursdays which is like doing affirmations and Wordless Wednesdays for photos plus there are a host of other special days that I can't find on the tip of my tongue.

That got me to thinking that since Levi is six months old now and is trying to send mental telepathy messages out into the world that maybe it's time for me to help him start blogging. Levi regularly snatches ink pens off the table when Mom's back is turn and paws at her keyboard which probably means he's ready to take communicating with humans to a higher level. So, from now on Saturdays on this blog will be known as Schnauzer Saturdays. Be warned, though, he's still a baby and the thoughts he tries to express are still the thoughts of a baby. With that said, I turn this entry over to Levi….



Peas tell Levi what thingie is that pits---no---spits paper! Me fears---no---hears thingie run back and forth. Mouse in there? Me watch paper come out. Me listens to Moomie tell---no---yell "NO PAPER!" If me can't have paper why does thingie want to give it to me? World is so confusing. Moomie covers thingie up sometimes. One day me took cover off so me could study thingie. Moomie said, "NO!" but she won't answer my questions about thingie. Levi needs help learning about thingie!




Well, that's all the little guy has to say today. He's off to take a nap. But I've got something special to tell you. I'm getting a new feather in my wings for coming up with this idea! Jason says there'll be a little presentation ceremony tonight since it's my very first merit earned feather. The ones in my training wings are just standard issue, you know. ©

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Three Dog Beds and Mom's Chair

Angel dogs in training are not supposed to be jealous of their charges. And I'm not. Truly I'm not. Really, really, really I'm not. I just want to know why my earth-bound brother, Levi, is allowed to sleep in Mom's chair but I never was. She even had one of those X-Mat pet training things designed to keep me from getting up there. Be warned, dogaroons, those thing hurts when you jump on them!

You're probably thinking there's more to the story. I guess I did leave out that fact that I liked to dig in the chair, too, trying to make a nest for myself while pretending I was out in the wilds of Montana. But Levi will learn to do that as well. Doesn't Mom know that? No, she just lets him sleep where he can keep an eye on her in the kitchen and Dad in his Lazy Z Boy. I'm not jealous---I think I've established that---I'm just concerned for Mom's judgment with raising Levi. She's getting old, you know.

And since I'm making comparisons, he's got three---count them---one, two, three dog beds. I only had one. He's got the soft, cushy one in the laundry room that he uses at night. Another one that fits in the bottom of his crate that Mom keeps in the car, and the third is a 'crate liner' bed that Levi is allowed to drag all through the house so he can plop down and sleep where ever he pleases.

Here is a photo of Levi in his crate liner bed, sleeping next to the waste basket. Can you believe it, he's never looked inside that basket! What self-respecting dog wouldn't have dove in after the junk mail and shredded paper by his age? He's going to be six months old on the 23rd, he should know about waste baskets by now. I hope he's not retarded.

My angel brother Jason says I have a selective memory. He says I didn't need a dog bed in the car because I always got to ride on Mom's lap back in the days when Dad could drive and after that I got to ride on Dad's lap. Levi needs a crate and bed in the car because, 1) he doesn't know enough not to jump out of an open door while Mom is transferring Dad to his wheelchair and 2) times have changed since I was a pup and Mom knows, now, that dogs are safer riding in the back where air bags can't get them.

I'll concede that Jason is right about all of that but he didn't have a logical explanation for why Levi has that third bed. The best he could come up with is that when I am able to let go of my earthly attachment to things, Levi could have a hundred beds and it won't matter to me. This is where Jason loses me with all that Zen stuff. Up here at the Rainbow Bridge, what ever we can imagine having to make us happy---tennis balls, steaks, Sarah with her pink tutu, fields to run in, water to play in---they magically appear. Yet when I look down on earth, all I'm suppose to see and help nurture is love, compassion and laughter.

"You already have that ability inside you," Jason told me. "You just need to master using it."

"Couldn't you just wave a magic wand and make me full angel wings worthy?" I begged him. All I've got now are those stubby trainer wings, you know.

"And have you miss great opportunities to grow and learn?" he answered with a smile. "That's not the angel way."

Love, compassion, laughter, growth, and learning---I'm tired of trying to figure out what all this has to do with Levi having three dog beds and Mom's chair to sleep in. I've got a poker game to go to. I'm out of here. Catch you later, alligators. ©

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Second Puppy Obedience Class

Levi's second obedience class went well, especially the first fifteen minutes when Mom and Levi practiced the 'settling' exercise while they listened to the instructor lecture. One of the things the trainer stressed was the importance of interrupting puppies at play with little obedience tasks and then letting them go back to play. The theory is that as puppies grow into adolescences they will be less apt to ignore or avoid owners when they are playing with other dogs or headed toward danger if they have learned that obeying their humans does not necessarily mean an end to having fun.

The second fifteen minutes of class was a combination of play time and grabbing a puppy by the collar---anyone's puppy---and having him or her do a couple of 'sits' before releasing the tyke to play again. It was a mass of humans and four-legged kids running around, the puppies having a great time and the humans looking like they were in a catch-the-greased-pig contest. Well, not quite THAT bad but you know how I like to exaggerate.

The third fifteen minutes of class was demonstrations on how to teach the 'stay' and 'down' commands followed by the last fifteen minutes of demonstrations on how to start puppies walking on a leash. The instructor used Levi for the demonstration and he did wonderfully. Can you tell I'm a proud big brother? The idea was to only go 2-3 feet at a time and then stop, 'sit' before going again. If the puppies pull on the leashes then the humans are suppose to turn and go the opposite direction.

A few days after the class Mom was feeling so confident that she had Levi under control while walking on a leash that she decided to take him and Dad out on a nature trail near by. How hard could it be to push a wheelchair and heel a dog at the same time? Harder than it looks, she decided. There were so many things Levi had never seen before---bicycles, joggers and other family pets not to mention the dam, river, swans, ducks, poison ivy, bugs and grass taller than him. The ragtag trio only got about a quarter of a mile along the river before turning around and coming back. Poor Mom, now she's resigned to taking them both separately until Levi masters ignoring distractions while practicing his obedience lessons.

Well, I've got to go find my angel brother. He's taking me a Zen Living class. It sounds boring to me but Jason says tonight's discussion will be particularly interesting. They're going to discuss, 'do dogs have a Buddha nature.'

"Of course we do!" I told him as soon has he had finished barking out the title.

"You may be right," Jason replied after a long, drawn-out pause. "Or you may be wrong. But answers giving without meditation are unacceptable." Then he winked at me! I can never tell if he's being serious or pulling my leg. All I know is he's one of the most respected angel trainers up here---even if he does talk in riddles half the time---so I listen when he speaks. ©

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Devil Angel

There are rules...or I should say principles to learn to become an angel dog. Yesterday I screwed up royally. I swear, I couldn't help it and if I were being totally honest here, I'm not sure I feel sufficiently contrite about my error in judgment to EVER pass the muster up here at the Rainbow Bridge. My knobby little pair of wings will probably never blossom into glorious, pure white fluttering appendages like my brother Jason and my silly sister Sarah has. If I didn't have such a macho image to maintain, I'd sit down and cry about that.

What exactly did I do? you ask. I crossed over the line and possessed little Levi for a few minutes. I truly, truly couldn't---why won't anyone believe me---help myself. As an angel in training we're suppose to learn how to look out for our earthly charges without twisting their desire to fit our own purposes. How was I supposed to know that doing the latter was more like the devil's work? The angel pledge is full of fine print. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Who reads all that?

Anyway, back my heartfelt confusion. Levi was in the bathroom while Mom was peeing and I saw him looking at the flash of white paper that came off the roller. "Do it!" I shouted in his head. "Grab it!" And he did! I know I possessed Levi for a few moments because he's been watching Mom pee and pull toilet paper off the roll for two months now and he just accepted that flash of paper as something humans do. It was none of his business and he had that down pat until I planted the naught idea in his head. This time---because of me---he snatched the paper out of Mom's hand, took off running and left her holding air. I used to do that all the time in my the first two years and last six months on earth.

Jason said that what I did was bad in principle but not in deed.

"What the heck does that mean?" I asked him.

He gave me that wise-old-monk-on-a-mountain-top look of his, laughed and said, "Grasshopper, some answers you must find in your heart." ©



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Doors and Lamps, No Problem

I thought I was smart while I was on earth---or was it smart-alecky?---but I never in my entire life tried to turn on a lamp or open a door. Levi is only inches away from accomplishing both of these things. Granted, the lever style door openers Mom and Dad have in their universal design house makes it easier for a clever dog (and disabled people) to figure out. But still, Levi's got to be a pretty smart little puppy at 23 weeks old to stretch himself up in an attempt to pull one of those levers down, thus opening the door if he could reach it. Once he puts a little hop into his efforts---which he'll figure out soon---Mom is going to have to make sure the doors are locked with the deadbolts all the time. Did Houdini have a dog? If so, I wonder if it was a schnauzer and Levi is a blood relative.

The lamp is easier to figure out than the door but still I never tried turning it on like Levi did today. He crawled to the top of Mom's chair in the living room and made a grab for the pull chains. I guess he wanted to learn to read the new book Mom got in the mail today---The Dog Owner's Home Veterinary Handbook---and he needed some extra light.

Levi also managed to crawl on top of the twin beds today, too. I could never do it because they are extra high to accommodate dad's bed-to-wheelchair transfers. The first time my baby brother did it Mom didn't see how he got up there. Levi can't take a running, flying leap in the bedroom like he does to get on the couch in the living room, so she was puzzled. She turned around and there he was lying in the middle of the bed. So she put him on the floor and five seconds later he crawled up the side of the bed like Spiderman on the side of a downtown skyscraper.

Another accomplishment for Levi this week is learning how to nap with Dad. He's been in training for this event for weeks but today he actually stayed on Dad's lap for more than a few seconds. Mom was pleased. She clocked him out at six minutes before he jumped down and she said, "When he grows up enough to have a longer attention span he'll be a good little napping buddy."

That napping comment was bittersweet to my ears, though. I was Dad's napping buddy from the day he came home from the hospital until six months before I came up to the Rainbow Bridge when I just couldn't jump anymore. Levi can't get up there by himself, either, without Mom to help but he's young and will learn soon enough. In the meantime Mom puts Levi on Dad's lap every afternoon for bonding time. When she does that, I have to turn my head and look off towards the magical place where all the rainbows from earth arc up to touch. That helps me remember that angels aren't supposed to be jealous of our earthy replacements. I'm still an angel dog in training, you know, so I have a few things like that still to master. ©


P.S. In case anyone is wondering what the two headed pot is sitting by Mom's chair, it's called a Yellow Dog. It got its name from Teddy Roosevelt who saw these hanging on oil derricks in Texas. They filled them with crude and had two rag wicks coming out the spouts and lite them for light. Teddy said they looked like yellow dogs. A newspaper reporter over heard him say that and soon after a newspaper back east had a headline that read something like: The President Sees Yellow Dogs in Texas! The name stuck. Mom and Dad bought that because they didn't know what it was and it took them several years to find another one. That second one was in an oil and gas museum where they finally learned its purpose and history.

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Heaven Sent Service Dogs

I've been thinking a lot about services dogs. So instead of blogging about Levi today I want to share some of my thoughts from here at the Rainbow Bridge. What got me started thinking about service dogs is I a met a K9 military service dog today, a beautiful German shepherd. A bunch of us were exploring the four-leaf clover field at the time and he was talking about how rewarding it was to have a job down on earth. Then a Siberian husky spoke up about how he came from a long line of working sled dogs. One after another we all told about our breed histories regarding jobs we've done for humans---herding stock, circus performers, hunting, guard and patrol dogs, search and rescue, drafting like horses do. Our blood lines went way back to the Middle Ages when dogs were used to power crude machinery. We even have drug enforcement and cadaver dogs up here and one of newest types of working dogs---the therapy canines.

All this talk made my angel sister, Sarah, cry and we couldn't figure out why. Finally she told us that because she had been so dim-witted down on earth from being the product of a puppy mill that she hadn't been of much value to anyone. I didn't know what to say---I was speechless at her assumption---but my angel brother, the ever-so-wise Jason, told her about how she filled a giant hole in our Mom's heart at a time when she was just figuring out that she couldn't have any two legged babies. "You were a therapy dog," he told her, "before they even invented that category of working dogs." That Jason, he always has the right words on the tip of his tongue. That's why he's one of the official newbie greeters up here at the bridge. When dogs come here, disorientated from a sudden death, he helps them find acceptance and sticks with them until they understand that they are still with their families in spirit, can check on them at the magic water under the bridge, and will be able to jump in their arms again when it's their time to come to heaven.

Levi is a therapy puppy, too, I think. You see the last six months that I was on earth I was getting sicker and sicker and that made my Mom more depressed than she even realized. She knew that she'd get another dog when I was gone and she spent some time looking at rescue sites and the local human society site in my last two months. That depressed her even more because none of those dogs seemed right for Mom and Dad's situation. They had personalities or special needs already formed and with Dad in a wheelchair she didn't want an older dog. Puppies seemed rare on the rescue sites and even if there had been puppies there was no guarantee that they wouldn't be unhealthy puppy mill victims, she thought, or would be like me who had been sold way too young---5 1/2 weeks---from a ruthless breeder creating a lot of behavioral problems. Mom needed an easy dog this time around.

When Mom first saw Levi, two weeks before I died, she hadn't planned on looking at a litter of puppies. She had gone to pick me up from the groomers but I wasn't ready on time so she was driving around to kill time when she saw a 'puppies for sale' sign. She pulled in and met two male schnauzers. She told my Dad afterwards that she would have taken one of them home on the spot if not for the fact that it probably would hurry up my death. I was too ill from my heart problems to deal with a frisky puppy. Two weeks later, I crossed over to the bridge and the next day Mom called to find out if the schnauzer she liked was still there. He was.

I call Levi Mom's therapy dog because he's bringing such joy to her life. Sarah, Jason and I were all loved for different reason but with Levi it's different in a way---more intense---because Dad can't talk anymore or express things he used to be able to do. Levi gives lavish affection and kisses that Dad can't. Levi also helps her remember that life is a cycle and not all about dying, disabilities and illness. So I guess what I'm saying here is that all dogs that are in loving homes serve mankind in some pretty amazing ways, whether it's through formal training to do a job or just by being themselves. ©


NOTE: Our blog got nominated for the 'Awesome Blog of the Month' award. Voting ended Saturday June 28th and we didn't win but it was exciting getting nominated.

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Recall Training and the Flyball Regionals

Shopping at Chow Hound was on Mom's schedule today and my baby brother FINALLY got a stash of treats besides those bland Mother Hubbard puppy biscuits---although he got those, too. He got some Kong Stuffy'n spray, puppy formula made with chicken liver. Hummm good! And he got Wellness Puppy treats, soft and smelly holistic bits to use for when obedience training starts at the end of the month. He's going to learn to heel with Mom first and then with dad's wheelchair so they all can stroll the neighborhood together.

Mom and Levi have been doing recall training using a seventy foot clothes line out in the back yard. She waits until he gets distracted by a butterfly, a blade of grass or a chipping bird and then she calls him. I must say the little guy comes running faster than I ever did. When they play the recall game in the front yard, however, where there are kids and other dogs to catch Levi's attention, it's harder for him get with the program but he eventually does come running at full speed back to Mom and her pocket full of Holistic Select nuggets. Mom is trying her best to remember to only give the 'Levi, come!' command one time. Sometimes she screws up and repeats it but what can I say, Mom is Mom.

Speaking of running at full speed, Last night was the finals at the flyball regionals up here at Rainbow Bridge. Oh my gosh, I can't tell you how much fun we all had. We wore out our barkers cheering. Every single dogaroon up here was watching or competing except for the canines who manned the steak grills for the after party. Let me tell you, the waiting list to get those plum jobs is longer than an alligator's tail. EVERYONE wants to watch the steaks on the grill because they 'accidentally' fall off quite often and have to be rescued from hitting the ground.

Well, I need a long nap after all the excitement so I'm signing off for now. Mom and Dad are going to a retiree picnic today so Levi will get a long nap today, too. ©

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Poor Pooping Levi!

Oh, my God, my mom is ruining Levi! Three nights in a row she got her head lost in her keyboard and completely missed his very weak-but-still-there attempts to use mental telepathy on her. So he did the next best thing a puppy in poop distress could do. He did his job in front of the door. Mom bawled herself out up one side and down the other but if she doesn't learn to pay attention soon poor Levi is going to need a doggie shrink to undo our mother's failings.

To make matters worse, two times in the past few days he's pooped on the deck instead of in the dog yard. That's Mom's fault too. She gave my baby brother too much access to the deck. That deck is huge, wrapping two sides of the house so Dad can take his wheelchair out there from three different rooms of the house. Until last week Mom was limiting Levi to one end of the deck using a lattice work barrier to contain him. But she used that lattice to line the picket fence to keep Levi from doing another Houdini escape.

Too much deck freedom or not, it's not as if my brother wasn't being supervised outside. Sort of. Mom's been faithfully sitting out there with him but when Levi pooped on the deck she was lost in the Marley and Me book. Yup, while reading about the antics and misdeeds of Marley the Labrador retriever our own puppy was having a major melt down because he couldn't find the steps down off the deck to the dog yard. Levi needs to learn to turn his mental telepathy up a notch when he's asking for help and Mom needs to quit being an airhead.

Jason, my angel brother up here with me, says Mom raised three other puppies who turned out just fine and I have to have more faith that she'll shape up before she ends up creating a permanent problem. But I'm wondering if Jason remembers how one-tracked and lost in another world Mom gets when she reading and writing. It's been a long time since he lived on earth with her plus she's seventeen older now.

I also confided in Jason that I'm a little worried Levi might be a tad slow at catching on to how life and bodily functions work. He laughed at that one and reminded me that I was nearly three years old before I figured out farting. Whenever I'd do it I'd take off running as if the devil himself was giving me a rectal exam with his pitch fork. All our canine pals up here the bridge who heard Jason tell that story had a good laugh over that one. ©
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Angel Puppy on Earth, Trouble Bubble in Heaven

I've been at the Rainbow Bridge just over two weeks now in human time. Up here, though, there is no such thing at time marked by weeks, months or even years. What is IS if you know what I mean. Mom and Dad still talk about me every day or I should say Mom talks and Dad listens because he can't talk since his stroke. She tells him stories about me as a pup and how much different little Levi is from me at the same age. They laugh and smile at the memories and pour the love on Levi that they can no longer give to me. I may be absent physically but I'm still presence in their hearts.

Levi is the perfect pup for them at this time in their lives. He is sweet and obedient and God knows I was anything but obedient. I was nicknamed the Trouble Bubble for a reason. Adopted at five-and-a-half weeks, I turned out to be a hell-raiser on four paws and didn't make an effort to get civilized until many months later when I had some sessions with a doggie shrink. (See this blog entry for details about Dr. Spock of Dogdoom.) But Mom and Dad were younger back then and they couldn't go through all they did with me again.

At fourteen weeks Levi was the last of his litter to find a home and many of the problems adjusting to living with humans that I had he never developed. He is so tender hearted that he gets his feelings hurt with the slightest reprimand and he takes Mom at her word when she says 'no' to things like chewing shoes laces and table legs. He also doesn't whine or cry when he has to sleep behind a baby gate in the laundry room or ride in a crate in the car. He accepts everything except the vacuum cleaner in his new world including the fact that he can't poop and pee in the house anymore. I'm bragging here but my baby brother even sent his very first mental telepathy message to our mom and she got it! He stood with his front paws on the window sill and kept looking back and forth between the view of the dog yard and Mom, asking her how he can get out there to do his job. Yup, God and I did a great job matching my humans up with little Levi.

Not that Levi is a perfect puppy. He has a stubborn streak about things like Mom's requirement that he not pull weeds in the dog yard and toss them in the air. And forget about the Fooey brand bitter tasting stuff she sprayed on the bark still left along the edges of the fence. Mom got some on her fingers and about gagged on her cookies when it got transferred by accident to her lips, but Levi likes it. He's also a puppy who loves to roll in the dirt and yesterday he discovered the joy of digging holes. Mom better hurry up and get those patio stones over my grave before Levi decides to dig up my bones.

Well, I'm off to my first Mother's Day party up here at the Bridge. I hear tell there will be grills set up where we can snatch all the hamburgers and hot dogs we want and there will be a champaign toast to our earth mothers everywhere. ©
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