My sweet Sophie, the pawsomest gal pawl a pooch could ever wish for, passed over the Rainbow Bridge just before Thanksgiving last year.

I was super nice to her when she was sick because I really thought I could help her get back on her feet and she’d be chasing me around again, just like in the good old days. But she just got sicker, and one night she let our humans know she was ready to make her last trip to the vet. (I tell ya, that brave pooch loved going to the vet right up to the end!)

Ever since then I’ve just been moping around. My stash of toys just doesn’t seem as fun as when I had a reason to guard it. Why bother barking at squirrels when there’s nobody to chase them with? So mostly I just snooze a lot and dream sweet dreams about Sophie.

You may find this hard to believe (I sure do), but some humans don’t think pets can mourn. Well, I can tell ya, we certainly do.

In fact, waaay back in 1966, the ASPCA did a study called Companion Animal Mourning. It found that after the death of their pawl, the behavior of 66 percent of the pooches changed. Over a third of the dogs ate less than usual, and 11 percent stopped eating at all. As for talking, 63 percent either barked more or got quieter. More than half of them got more kissy and clingy with their humans. So yeah, I think this pretty much proves us pooches hurt from broken hearts just like humans do.

What can a human do to make a sad dog feel better, especially when the human’s probably just as sad? Here are some tips, based on my experience.

It’s good for both humans and hounds to get lots of exercise instead of sitting around moping, so grab a leash and take your dog for a nice, long walk.

Take your pooch to the dog park. He’ll like kibbitzing and running with the other pooches, especially since his special pawl isn’t around to play with anymore.

It’s perfectly OK to spoil us rotten at this time. Feel free to bake us a batch or 10 of peanut butter yum-yums. Give us lots and lots of tummy rubs. Let us snuggle up next to you in your bed. Spend as much time as you can with us – it’ll make us both feel better, I promise.

My humans are starting to look for a new pawl for me, so my tail’s been wagging a little bit more lately. There will never be another Sophie, but I know they’ll find me a pawsome friend. When they do, I can’t wait to tell you all about her!

Leroy is a 4-year-old “Terribull” adopted from a Carson, Calif., shelter by i Love Dogs writer Laura Goldman. When he’s happy (which is almost all the time), Leroy snorts just like a pig. He loves his cool stash of chew toys (a little too much). He still misses his sweet gal Sophie, but he’s head-over-paws in puppy love with his new gal pawl, Ella.

‘alo, perritos. Phew, just had a fabulous little cat nap – I mean, dog nap! Some days are lazier than others, my friends, and with all this rain, well, this is definitely one of those days…

I’ve been debating what to teach the humans lately, mami and papi, they’re so silly. They keep messing up their training, but, perritos, with perseverance and hard work, you can train your human yet. One thing I hadn’t quite been able to master with the humans was the belly rub.

Now, you would think that when they see my itty-bitty paws that are lacking opposable thumbs, they’d understand their job in life. Do they think they were given those fingers and thumbs for wags and giggles? No, cachorritos! Most definitely not. Those movable appendages are for one thing, and one thing only: giving doggies belly rubs! (Okay, maybe they’re good for a few other things, like putting kibble in a bowl, picking up poop and throwing squeaky footballs.)

You have to wonder why the humans are sooo slow sometimes. I mean, I LOVE my mami y papi with todo mi corazon, but when I flip onto my back, belly exposed, and wriggle-wriggle back and forth, what else could that POSSIBLY mean?

No, cachorritos, most definitely not fleas (yucky!). It means, “Hey, you, human with the remote control in your hand, get over here and do your job!”

Then, you might ask, how exactly do I get the belly rub of my dreams? Well, I finally figured it out! Mastering the perfect rub on the tubby tub is no simple matter, puppies.

First, you have to teach your human the cues for rubbing the belly, followed by instilling in them the optimal technique for a perfect belly rub and scratch (What? A pup from South L.A. can’t be edumucated? Psh! I’m your best shot at the perfect pup life with your human!).

All right puppies, start by not scaring your human. Don’t run at them full speed, paws in the air, fur to the wind, tongue flapping and come straight at their face (or legs), pouncing and begging for the rub! Chances are this strategy will only get your crazy butt in the crate. Take it slowly and be patient with your humans – they don’t know any better.

Positive reinforcement always works! Here’s what to do:

1. Come to your human, sit nicely and show them those big brown (blue, green, whatever) eyes – make ‘em good!

2. Gently lie down with your snout on your paws, look up and wag your tail

3. When you hear “Awww,” that’s it, puppies! Right there! Wag that tail and roll onto your back. See what you did there? You just rewarded the human with a trick for acknowledging you! You rolled onto your back! They WILL LOVE IT. The “Aww” factor will immediately go up!

4. Wiggle like your life depends on it! Wiggle wiggle, wag wag, smile smile, and when you least expect it that big human paw will come right down to you and start rubbing and scratching.

5. The cuteness may prompt your human to pick you up. You DON’T want this to happen! We all know, poochies, once the humans pick you up, the belly rubs are over. Keep them rubbing by … wait for it … licking their fingers! That’s right cachorritos, that tongue can do more than lick your … um, you know what. It can show your human that you LIKE what they’re doing. The more you lick the more they’ll FINALLY understand that what they’re doing is PERFECT.

Now, positive reinforcement with your tongue can go a LONG way. Make sure you repeatedly lick until you have a perfect response 10 out of 10 times. Eventually they’ll know the routine. Sit, down, cute eyes, roll over, BELLY RUB!

Once you’ve mastered this, cachorritos, you can move on to perfecting the belly rub by, again, continuing to wiggle and moving your body strategically to where you want the rubs and scratches to occur. Once your human hits the right spot, hold it! LICK, LICK, LICK!

That’s right pups, you got it! Ay amiguitos, I can’t wait to hear about all the wonderful belly rubs you’ll get. Leave me comments so I know how it goes!

Here are some of my buddies getting some perfect rubs!

Besitos y abrazos! Peace out.

Irie Belle (a.k.a. “I Rebel”) is a bilingual Jack Russell Terrier-Chihuahua adopted from the South Los Angeles Animal Shelter. She aspires to one day host her very own show and be the Oprah Winfrey of mixed-breed pups around the world!

‘alooooo! Perritos, do you know what happens on Fridays? All of TJ’s pawpals come to the office for dog-friendly Friday! We’re an office dog gang, BOLOL!

Okay, well mostly it’s just Cody and me, but we have lots of fun. I chase him and steal his toys, and he tells me to stop bugging him and get out of his territory. He so doesn’t mean it, though – I can tell he likes me. Even Cody’s mommy said that while I was napping on my bed Cody came over and sniffed my head. That can only mean one thing perritos – Cody will be my friend yet!

Anyhowl, you can probably guess cachorritos, no? Fridays arf my faaavorite day of the week.  I get to roam all over the office. I sneak into all the bosses’ offices to get a treat and a nice long pet. I have a mission to expand my Jackahuahua kingdom all the way to the iLD President’s office! Woof! Um, just don’t tell him about it just yet.

I coax all the iLD humans into giving me lots and LOTS of yummy for my tummy biscuits. BOL! I’m so sly, so cool, so sneaky sneaky. I even get some TJ’s Health Bites from time to time. Yum, peanut butter goodness!

But this past Friday I had the longest afternoon cachorritos! I had to teach my office auntie (also Cody’s mom and the office trainer human) how she’s supposed to give me treats. She wasn’t as easy as the other office humans. With the other humans, I just sit and look pretty. I snuggle their hands a bit, give them a lick on the toes and ta-daaa: biscuits! But this human, sheesh, she’s a lot of work!

At first she would show me the treat and then she’d put it down on the ground between my paws. I stuck my snout in and around her hand to pry the dang thing out, but she wouldn’t budge! I looked at her and telepathically sent her a message, “Give me my treat, lady!” But nothing.

So, I thought about it and thought about it. She wouldn’t say nothing so I tried again, then she pushed the treat farther back between my legs. What the heck! So I had to kinda bow a bit to get to it, and FINALLY, she gave me my treat! Phew! It was such a relief. Okay, so my office auntie wanted me to kinda bow to get my treat, I got it. I’m a smart JRT, amiguitos, I know how to get those treats.

Then, she pulled out another treat. This time I knew what to teach her. Look here human, when I bow slightly back like this, give me my treat! But, dangit, no treat! She wouldn’t budge again. I looked at her, telepathically sent her another message, but nothing.

Finally she pushed that dang treat so far back between my front paws that I had to just plop on down and try to dig under her flat hand. But, I didn’t have to try very hard because she gave me the treat right away and she said, “Down.” I can only assume that means “you win” in human language.

So now, every time she says “Down,” I plop right down and give her the signal for my treat. I got her trained good!

Irie La Mona (The Little Doll) is a bilingual Jack Russell Terrier-Chihuahua mix adopted from the South Los Angeles Animal Shelter. She aspires to one day host her very own show and be the Oprah of mixed-breed pups around the world! Check out her other articles!

While our dog beds are quite nice and comfy and all, do you know what’s even nicer and comfy-er? That big bed your humans sleep in.

On a chilly winter’s night, nothing beats snuggling up next to your dog mom, dad, brother or sister – any warm human will do!

Some pet parents (like mine!) have no problem sharing their beds with their pooches, but others do not allow it. But don’t give up, ye of little beds – simply follow my tips and I’ll bet you, too, will get promoted to the people bed in no time at all!

Are you allowed on the couch? Be sure to be extra snuggly, especially if your pet parent complains about being cold. Baby steps, my darlings, baby steps.

Be polite, dears. Never ever jump on the bed like you own the place – always wait for an invitation from your human. And it wouldn’t hurt to give the dear a big smooch or two once you’re up there to show your appreciation.

Don’t sneak up on the bed when your people aren’t around. You may think they won’t notice, but trust me, dearhearts, they will. And when they do, you’ll probably find yourself sleeping in your dog bed again.

Be a dog, not a hog. I’m sure it feels divine when you big pooches stretch out diagonally across the whole bed, but your people won’t tolerate having to sleep scrunched into fetal positions for your comfort.

If you get booted from the bed, don’t complain. Growling does no good and can get you banned from the bed forever.

If your pet parents still aren’t sure about letting you on the bed, you might try following my example. Yours truly got herself promoted to the people bed by offering my services as a guard dog!

Do you have any tips or tricks for getting promoted to the people bed? Please share them in the comments area below!

Sophie was almost 84 dog years old when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. She was adopted by i Love Dogs writer Laura Goldman when she was a year old from the spcaLA shelter in Hawthorne, Calif. Sophie loved long naps, looking out the front windows and, most of all, her best buddy Leroy. Check out her other articles!

My neighbor Paco’s people leave their gate open when they leave for work in the morning. Paco is a Chihuahua who’s no bigger than my head.

Paco’s people say that since he knows his way around the neighborhood, what’s the problem?

The problem is that cars might not know their way around teeny Paco. Not to mention that Paco spends most of the day yapping the same thing over and over and over at me through my front window. I don’t understand Spanish like my pal Irie, but I don’t think “cabeza gorda” is a compliment.

And then there’s Belle, the brainiac Border Collie across the street, whose pet parents let her out the front door late at night to do her business. They got a fancy new lawn in their backyard and want to keep it nice and green.

After Belle does her business…on my nice and green front lawn…she starts barking for me and my dogmate Sophie to come outside so she can nip at our feet and herd us into a little circle.

“Take a chill pill, Belle,” I bark back. “My people may not be as smart as you, but they know enough not to let us run wild on the street. Besides, it’s 11 p.m. and I’m tired from trying to nap all day.”

People, I know your hearts are probably in the right place, but there are these pawsome places called “dog parks” where us pooches can safely run free. My local dog park even has a separate play area for the little guys so we normal-size guys (yeah, that’s right, Paco) don’t accidentally hurt them (or have to hear the annoying, non-stop yapping).

There are also these contraptions called “leashes.” Although we dogs kind of hate them, they’ve probably saved a lot of our lives.

Last but certainly not least, your town probably has leash laws, and it would be a howling shame if you had to spend money on a fine instead of tasty treats for your dog.

As much as Paco and Belle annoy me, I would hate for anything bad to happen to them … or to any dog whose people think it’s okay for them to roam the streets without any supervision.

Leroy is a 4-year-old “Terribull” adopted from a Carson, Calif., shelter by i Love Dogs writer Laura Goldman. When he’s happy (which is almost all the time), Leroy snorts just like a pig. He loves his cool stash of chew toys (a little too much). He still misses his sweet gal Sophie, but he’s head-over-paws in puppy love with his new gal pawl, Ella.

I’m not content to take my first whiz of the day in the backyard. Heck no. I’m going to mark the cul-de-sacs and neighborhood blocks. A girl’s got  to have her workout too. 

Problem is my human is lazy and is still snoozing long after the sun has risen. So I have to be inventive when I wake her up.

Pokes with my cold, wet nose got her to flinch but didn’t do the trick. I curled up by her head and flicked my feathery tail in her face a couple of times which got her to grumble and bat her arms but she still slept.

Once I decided to get forceful and reared up on my hind legs and woofed really loud. She had a late night and still didn’t budge.

Pity got me what I wanted a couple of times. One time the human slept with her hand hanging off the bed. I nudged her hand with my head, rolled my big, dark eyes at her and whined. Her eyes flew open and she pet me. Then, to my delight, she stumbled out of bed and grabbed my leash.

Another time I paced by the door and whimpered loudly. That got her to jump up with her eyes half closed and fumble for the plastic baggies and leash.

But sometimes I’m too proud to beg and I often prefer to bump into the bedside. That rouses her.

Persistence also works. If I pad around her bed long enough she will wake up. One time I got bored and picked up my squeaky toy. I squeezed the toy with my jaws consciously until the squeaking got her to stir.

She got up and ambled downstairs. My tail wagged furiously and my lips blossomed into a grin as I danced after her. I plucked the leash with my mouth and gave it to her. She groggily attached it and I pulled her out the door. Out to the sun and grass and neighbors’ flower beds.