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Way To Go Wyatt

The Tripawds Leg-a-cy Continues!

Way To Go Wyatt

Got Quality?

March 15th, 2015 · 1 Comment · My Adventures

My name is Tripawd Sheriff Wyatt Ray Dawg and I approve this message.

This country is in need of some regulating, and I’m just the sheriff to do it. You need a dawg to come in and clean up your town, get rid of criminals, thugs and lunatics, and I’m your guy. Just call

1-8oo-Reg-ulate

Together we can take back your town and turn it into a Quality Neighborhood.

My name is Wyatt Ray Dawg, and I won’t let you down.

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Old Mac Dogal Had a Farm

February 22nd, 2015 · 3 Comments · My Adventures

E-I-E-I-O. And on this farm he had some  . . .

Dinner! E-I-E-I-O

After we visited Karma’s home town we went to see my friend Kevin the Heritage Hog Farmer. The trip got even better when I saw what was on the menu.

I was SO excited! But then they gave me the bad news. “No Wyatt, those are not for your dinner, they’re for other people’s dinners.”

So. Not. Fair.  I’m outta here.

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For Mrs. B

February 8th, 2015 · 5 Comments · My Adventures

I keep forgetting to tell you guys about our drive through Colorado in November.

There we were, driving away from the snow for the rest of the year (which is my favorite thing in the whole world, can someone please tell me why my parents don’t like to live there when it’s snowing?), when Dad takes the doghouse on wheels and makes this sharp turn down a little bumpy road.

Stopping in Willard, Colorado

We went to an old mining town that’s so old it’s not even on the map. They heard about this place, “Willard,” from my friend Karma. She is a really nice Tripawd mom, you should meet her! She’s in the Tripawds chat most evenings.

Anyhow, we were going to this town where Karma growed up (she doesn’t live there anymore). And we were gonna go see it ’cause it’s not too often we’re in that part of Colorado. It’s not too often anypawdy is in that part. I mean it’s WAY out there.

Willard, Colorado cemetery

Karma told us that her Momma Cynthia, who got her angel wings when Karma was very young, is in the cemetery here in this little town. Since Karma is on the other side of the country and can’t go visit, we wanted stop and pay our respects for her.

Tripawd Wyatt pays respects to Karma’s Mom.

She told us where her Mom is located, under a pretty tree all by itself. Karma says having a tree is a very big deal because there aren’t too many trees out in the prairie. She’s right. But it’s nice and pretty anyways.

Paying our respects to Mrs. B

We paid our respects and left this charm for Mrs. B. Can you see it in the flowers?

On the prairie with Mrs. B.

They say leaves don’t fall far from the tree and that it’s like that with pawrents too. I agree. If Cynthia was anything like Karma, she was one super duper nice lady.

Thank you Mrs. B. Karma is pretty kewl.

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Birthday Boy

January 3rd, 2015 · 4 Comments · My Thoughts

Oh Lucky Me. Today is my birthday number SIX!

Mmmmmy birthday!

It’s been a long road to get here.

Wyatt meets his new Paw.

But I’ve arrived and life is GOOD!

Hoppy Wyatt!

I think that when Spirit Jerry got his wings on the 3rd of October, 2008, one of the first things he did was make sure he made a special star in the sky with my name on it. OK, well maybe a blazing asteroid. Or an imploding black hole. Whatever. Spirit Jerry put me up there and then someone came to get me, I was born, and the world has never been the same since!

Wild Boy Wyatt

If anyone wants to know what I want for my birthday, how about some pork tenderloin?

Pork tenderloin for the birthday boy?

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Christmastime Bellyache

December 19th, 2014 · 9 Comments · My Adventures

I have so many adventures to tell you about. But right now I don’t feel so good.

High as a kite on Fentanyl

See, last week I chomped on a towel for fun. Which I do all the time when my people aren’t around! But this time the towel I ate made me feel terrible. Guess I picked the wrong kind. Anyhow, next thing I knew I woke up in a cage with a shaved belly and a big long scar down my gut. And man it hurt!

Wyatt recovers from gastromy surgery.

The clinic people were great but I wanted out. Yesterday the vet called my people and said I could come home. I’m glad. It’s way easier to sleep on my couch than in a cage with a bunch of unregulated dogs all around.

Mmmm Fentanyl dreams.

I like being in my own crib. But eating just doesn’t feel so great right now. After all, my stomach got sliced open like a stuffed turkey. Ouch. My people keep trying to feed me cause I haven’t eaten any real food for almost a week. Today I finally ate a little bit. They put that Honest Kitchen stuff in my bowl and hand fed me! Yep, king of my castle I am.

Wyatt recovers with hand feeding and Honest Kitchen.

Now I can’t do anything or have fun for at least two weeks. This sucks. No more towels for me, no way no how.

It’s gonna be a mellow Christmas with me at home getting over this surgery. I hope you have more fun than me!

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