What does a geriatric Tripawd dog look like? Definitely not Wyatt Ray Dawg, our eleven year-old wild boy.
The humans took me to the exercise dogtor the other day. They want to make sure I’m still up to the task of being your loyal spokesdog. When we were there, the dogtor called me a “geriatric” Tripawd dog. I thought “WHO are you talking about, lady?”
I might have turned eleven years young on Friday, but that doesn’t stop me from having a wild pawty. Talk about livin’ it up; I got TWO birthday treats!
That’s right party people. I’m eleven now. Sure, I’m a little bit more chill these days, and sometimes I sleep in later, but I still sleep with one eye open and I can hear you coming from a mile away.
What does a geriatric Tripawd dog look like? Certainly not me. If this is what 11 looks like, I can’t wait to see 12. I’m having as much fun as ever.
Three-legged Wyatt Ray has his first Tripawd Thanksgiving, then eats a towel and t-shirt for dessert.
Hoppy Thanksgiving everypawdy! Did you have a fun pawliday with your pack? I know I did! That’s ’cause my grandmaw has gotten so soft in her old age, she finally let me sit by the dinner table for the big feast.
I was soooo good. I didn’t even beg too much. My people were so impressed they sneaked plates of pumpkin pie scraps to me!
But just because I’m now almost eleven years old, don’t think I’m not a hellraiser anymore. Nope, that just ain’t the Shepherd way. There’s still a lot of rebel punk in me. See, this morning, I ate a tasty dishtowel for breakfast when my people were away on a walk.
Then I ate some of Dad’s favorite running shirt. I heard mom say he needed a new one so I just gave him a head start.
The humans were not happy when they came back from their walk. Mom just kept saying “Why, Wyatt, Why?”
Later, she went to the grocery store to buy me all new dog food. Lots of it, in cans! Isn’t that a riot? I got to eat canned dog food after eating the towel and shirt?!
“He’s either gonna puke or poop,” she said to pops. Now they’re waiting for me to do something.
Wyatt Ray shows off his people skills as a Tripawd working dog at the 2019 Wild West Veterinary Conference in Reno, Nevada.
Wyatt Ray Dawg here. Did you furget about me? I don’t blame you if you did. My people have been too busy to let you know how I’m doing. Now that I think about it, I’ve also been too busy being a Tripawd working dog.
A couple of weeks ago my people and me went to Reno, Nevada. That’s right, bright lights, big city. We went to the Wild West Veterinary Conference to help get the word out about the Tripawds Nation.
I thought I was just going to chill out for a few days while my people walked the conference and handed out information but nope. One day they said “Wyatt, you’re coming with us!”
Guess they wanted me to earn my keep that day. You can definitely say that I worked my tail off, and then some!
Sheesh. When my people said they wanted a working dog, I didn’t think they meant go to hang out with dogtors and be nice to them all day. Now that’s work for a dawg like me!
Does your three-legged pet have a Tripawd twitch? Wyatt Ray shows off his herky jerky stump dance after a day at the beach.
Hey Tripawds friends, did you miss me?
I’ve been a little busy being a travelin’ dawg, going from Colorado to Washington. The humans took me out of the mountains.
I thought it was gonna be a bummer but nope. I got to go to the BEACH!
It’s so cool being able to get out to the water. I couldn’t have gone that far it if it wasn’t for my homeboy Travis Ray. He loaned me his wheels ’cause he doesn’t need ’em yet. After my doggie therapist (no, not the kind that fixes your brain!) fixed the cart up for me, now I get to go on longer walks.
Later, when I got home I was so tired, but it’s all good.
I dreamed about herding chickens! And Mom thought it was “so cute” when she saw me doing the Tripawd twitch.
Yeah yeah, my stump still twitches, cause when I’m dreaming I forget that my leg is gone. You would think after ten years on three legs that my sleeping brain would remember I’m a Tripawd, but nope.
A Tripawd working dog needs his couch after a long day on the ranch, but his dad had other plans.
I don’t know why humans do the things they do. Take for example, my Dad’s latest project: building a desk for himself.
Before we got to the ranch for summer, me and him used to sit on my couch during the day. I was hoppy to share it. He would bang on his computer machine, and I would snooze. Or, when my friend Austin visited, we took over my couch and Dad got to sit at the kitchen table.
But every day Dad would say “Ouch” “Ugh” “Grr” when he would stand up after working all day. Mom said “It’s your back. You need a real desk for work.”
Then after one back ache too many, Dad got mad at the couch desk. So he tore it out. And then I knew we were in trouble.
It didn’t take him very long to build his desk. And everyone thinks it’s great. But I sure don’t. No more couch for me.
That’s OK though. A Tripawd working dog like me has plenty of other things to do around here. Like help Dad at his other job on the ranch.
Or just watch the office with mom.
That’s my life as a Tripawd working dog. But it’s not all work and no play. Wanna see what else I’ve been up to this summer on the ranch? I knew you did!