Flurry

Therapy Dog in Heaven

Aunt Loba is concerned about my lack of confidence around other dogs and she suggested that I see a licensed therapy dog. It is a Golden retriever that used to visit people in hospitals on Earth. Apparently, the people told her all about their problems and petted her and after that they got better. Her name is Dr. Goldie. (I am sure Goldie liked being petted and getting treats.)

Uncle Zorro is scoffing at the idea and says that I only need to walk with my tail up, chest out and have a menacing look in my eyes and I will be perfectly ok. If a dog still is rude to me, Uncle Zorro says he will deal with it.

I don’t really feel I need to see a therapy dog, after all it is the other dogs that should work on their attitude problems, but Aunt Loba insisted, so I said ok and went.

Dr. Goldie was kind and showed me a couch, and I took a nap on it.

When I woke up, Goldie said we had a good first session and she looked forward seeing me many more times. I do not know if Loba paid her, or if the sessions in Heaven are free. Dr. Goldie had a stack of bacon behind her desk. It was a comfortable couch.

Are the other dogs kinder now?

Earth Memories and Doggy Heaven

Dear Diario, I am feeling a little down because I have been thinking about all the dogs that bullied me on Earth:

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is image.png — **How good dogs greet each other**

Winston, Sparks, Lilly (Yorkshire terrier, so aggressive), Comet, Lulu (no, not cute), Lisa, Tornado, Pepe (Bulldog mix, huge), Joker (mixed breed, no joke), Barton, Rita, Batman, ZsaZsa (Afghan, sneaky), Snippet, Apple, Ripley (aka rip your ears off), Sonny, Amanda, Orlando (Dachshund, thinks he is a bulldog), Risto, Barkley (bark loud, I say), Phantom, Carlton, Aristo, Mancos, Dumbo, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, unknown, …. the list goes on.

If I went on a walk, someone would have a go at me. It usually went like this: I am strolling peacefully on the leash minding my own business. The offending dog sees me at a distance. They perk up, lunge forward ripping the arm of their owner and barks and snarls aggressively at me for minutes while their owner shouts: “he/she is not dangerous, just wants to say hello”.

Funny way to say hello, growling and showing your teeth. Delusional owners.

Another style is the dog that walks orderly beside their owner and makes a surprise attack when we are side by side. This time the owner says “he/she has never done this before”.

Sure, except it did the same thing yesterday and last week too. The owners are trying to blame me for inviting an attack and being scared. It is their dog that likes to be a bully. The worst is when they blame me for being scared. Saying that it incentivizes the attack… No, I will not fight back, I do not want a fight, I want to get away and not get hurt.

I am glad all that is over and that I am in Doggy Heaven. Maybe it is Heaven, maybe it is the protection from Uncle Zorro, I don’t know, but it is over. Finally, I have don’t have to look over my doggy shoulder all the time.

Dogs go to Heaven

It is one month since I departed from Earth. Every day, Mom and Dad still take the same walk as we use to take together. Today they met another small little poodle. “Just like our Flurry,” explained Dad. “He is dead now. Died of old age a month ago.” This got lot of simpering sympathy. “But we still feel like he is with us,” said Mom.

Of course, you do, I am right here, following you from Heaven!

King of the House

Dear Diry, Aunt Loba and Uncle Zorro have told me something shocking. In their Earth life with Mom and Dad, they did not live in the house, they lived outdoors! They were outdoor dogs. I am disturbed, I guess as a pet, a bit more human and not suited for the outdoors, honestly, I do not think I would survive that sort of life.

“There was no problem,” says Loba “we got food every day, a large garden to live in, a family to protect and a doghouse. It was a healthy lifestyle and we lived like Kings and Queens.” “I was Rey de la Casa,” said Zorro. (It means: King of the House).

Uncle Zorro explained that he was on guard duty for the family, assisted by Aunt Loba. “I take my assignments very seriously,” said Zorro. “It was my duty to protect the perimeter of the garden and I always do my duty. In fact, I have been awarded a medal for most dutiful dog.” He pointed out that he could open the gate lock with his teeth, but he stayed on duty in the garden (most of the time) out of loyalty to Master.

“And for the food,” said Loba.

Zorro is so accomplished and unselfish. I wanted to see the medal, but unfortunately, it got misplaced in a move.

Loba said all this is humbug and the reason they could not live in the house is that Zorro peed on the Christmas tree and the furniture when he was in the house.

“Marking is necessary,” says Zorro.

Zorro is bored

Uncle Zorro told me he would like to be a police dog if he came back to Earth. He says he used to do some policing around Master’s house. Once he bit a boy. “Just a little nip to teach him a lesson, but the boy kept coming back to the door with his Dad, again and again. Every time Master and Mistress seemed distressed and apologetic. Maybe I did not bite him hard enough,” says Zorro thoughtfully, “if I had done a better job, he would not have bothered Master ever again.”

If I get back to Earth, I want to be a pet with Mom and Dad, and for sure, I do not want to be a police dog. Zorro thinks Heaven is a little dull at times. He says he sometimes miss the action at Earth. I asked him what action, and he said: “the street brawls, Chihuahuas, you know”.

No I don’t know. Chihuahuas?

We had bacon for dinner. That is the best thing about Heaven says Zorro, the food.

Scottish heritage again

Old Aunt Kara says she is of Scottish heritage because she is an Airedale Terrier and that is a Scottish breed.

“There you see,” says Zorro, “Scottish heritage, it’s all in the family, Royal Scotland for sure.”

Loba asked how a dog from Europe is related to him, that is from South America. “Through Master of course,” said Zorro, “we are all related, it makes perfect sense! We are family.”

Uncle Zorro has a strong sense of family. But what about Mistress (I mean Mom), does she not count? Aunt Kara was her dog after all. Maybe Zorro is a chauvinist?

Aunt Loba brought jerky and that stopped the discussion. She called it a royal jerk event and giggled. I still wonder if Uncle Zorro and Aunt Loba are married?

Zorro’s medals

Dairy, not much has happened here in Doggy Heaven the last few days. Life is good, we eat, and we sleep. Uncle Zorro has showed me his medals, they are hanging proudly on his collar. He is a noble dog! One medal is from the king, it has Royal written on it says Zorro. He speculates he might be the king’s illegitimate son. I tried to read the writing on the medal, I thought it said Rabies, but the lettering is very worn. Royal, asserts Zorro.

Aunt Loba rolled her eyes behind his back. She does that a lot. Maybe her eyes are hurting.

Good Night Dariy

Heaven for Loba and Fifi

I have not done anything special today, but I will describe a typical day in Heaven for Loba and Fifi.

They get up early, jump over a few fences, climb over a few walls, dig under a few more fences and then run for miles in the woods and fields. There they follow smells of rabbits and they stick their noses deep into rabbit holes. They find a stack of meat bones which they gnaw up and then they stretch out to sleep in a sunny spot.

Waking up, they bark hysterically to a few birds. Tiring of that they jump into a lake, get up and shake themselves, wildly smattering everyone nearby with water. Then they will find a trash heap, preferably with rotten fish, which they will roll around in (why after the swim)? They finish the day by digging many holes in a field. That is Doggy Heaven for them.

Zorro and I find them tiring, but they look at us and giggle before gulping down some fresh mackerel and falling asleep on the porch. We join them in the eating and sleeping.

A fox is sighted

Dare Diary, Zorro can be a bit annoying. Today I was sleeping peacefully in the sun, dreaming that I was back at Earth with my family. It was a pleasant day and Dad was barbecuing while Elise rubbed my tummy. Mom was cutting up some choice pieces of meat and putting them in my bowl when Zorro woke me up.

“Flurry, wake up, there is a fox in Master’s garden!”

Me: “What?”

Zorro: “A fox in Master’s garden. What are you doing about it?” He looked frustrated.

Me: “Nothing, what do you think I can do? I am dead.”

Zorro thought about it for a while. “I guess you are right. Sorry for waking you up then. Disculpe.” (It means sorry in Spanish).

But the damage was done. I could not go back to sleep and I never got to eat the bowl of my dreams.

Gardening Club

Dear Dairy, we had really fun today! Uncle Zorro and Aunt Loba took me to the Gardening Club. We were given bones to bury. When they were deep enough and covered, we peed on the spot to mark it as our own. Every meeting, we are going to dig down some more bones, they will be there if there is a food shortage, and for when we just like to dig up bones. I am so pleased with my garden plot.

The club is run by the terriers. They are ferocious gardeners and can get a hole down in 30 seconds – unbelievable skills! Zorro and I are just casual gardeners, but Loba is very enthusiastic. She has twenty bones buried deep down. (My bones are sticking up here and there.)

Fifi is one of the most active dogs, she is on the gardening club steering committee. She is a true Jack Russell Terrier.