Independence Days with Barney

Three legged German Shepherd Wyatt goes on ranch patrol with Barney the purple dinosaur.

I’ve got a new routine now, and it ain’t so bad. You see when the peeps go to work, Barney and I get to ramble on down through the ranch. 

Through the trees, into the sage brush, and up over the mountain we go. Sometimes we mine for gold, and other times we lend Smokey Bear a hand to make sure no fires get started in these parts.

It’s a good life I’d say, although Barney isn’t used to so much walking. Those little legs just don’t go fast enough for my speed. He always wants to take a break when we’ve got work to do. Lazy punk.

 Barney won’t be here for much longer. Check out his Kill BarneyBlog, I think the dude is spent.

He’ll soon be on his way to other places, where he can make some other dogs really happy. He ain’t so bad you know. I might actually miss him a little.

 Maybe Spirit Jerry was on to something. I had fun with that little beast!

A Dog with a Job

Three legged German Shepherd Wyatt Ray Dawg finds friendship in the sheep herd at Vickers Ranch, Lake City Colorado.

When my peeps said we were going to be at Vickers Ranch all summer, I was thinking I’d be surrounded by big scary horses and dumb ass donkeys. They’re no fun, they don’t like dogs like me and won’t play nice.

But when we got here, guess what I found?

My peeps!

The ranch has sheep now, and they totally get my game!

Practically every morning I get to go out to my friends and say hello, and tell them that Sheriff Wyatt is in town.  “No need to worry, my friends, I’m here to protect you!”

“Baaaaaah!” they tell me. “Baaaaaaa….ooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyy”

And unlike those hooved critters, my sheep friends totally get what I’m all about.

Finally, someone understands me.

I love it here!

Big Bad Wolf No More?

Three legged German Shepherd learns to get along with little white dogs.

You know, I’ve got this thing about smaller dogs, especially white ones.

Those little pups, they remind me of rabbits (mmmmmm). And sometimes, I just don’t know what comes over me, but I can’t help myself . . .

I try to eat them.

But I dunno, something’s different now. Mom sez it’s ’cause I’m older. Whatev. I just don’t think that going after a snack dog is a good idea. It just gets my pawrents all riled up. They get really upset when that happens.

So the other day, when this smaller dogs shows up to my crib, I thought I’d be good for Mom and Dad, so I tried to be his friend.

Well, it helped that this guy, Falcon, snarled and barked real loud and told me what’s what as soon as he met me.

When he did that, I thought, hey, that little dude is pretty kewl.

Turns out Falcon is a Puerto Rico rescue dawg, and he had a hard life on the streets for a long time. He’s even got himself a prong collar! Can you see it? A little dawg with a PRONG? What a badass!

So now, Falcon and I are buds. But he’s moving to Washington, he was just visiting Jerry’s Acres. But I hope I get to see him again. We got along real nice. Even treed a sqwirl together!

Littler dogs ain’t so bad after all.

Mom and Dad Come to their Senses, Finally

Three legged Wyatt Ray Dawg goes home to the Colorado Rockies.

Yipee! No more thorns, no more heat, no more stinky river water. See ya later Texas!

Oh I’m so glad my pawrents came to their senses. We finally left Texas when the heat got to be too much for us. I’m so glad, I was sweatin’ it up every day and it wasn’t fun with my tongue hanging out all afternoon. Mom kept throwing water on me to cool me off.

So 1,000 miles later, now we’re back in the cool, cool Rocky Mountains at Jerry’s Acres. I am SO glad! There’s no snow but it’s not 99 degrees either. Now, my job is to regulate the Moose that keep coming around. I hate moose but I sure love eating their poo!

I hear that we’re going to try to have a Tripawds Pawty on May 19 in Fort Collins. Anyone care to meet me there? I promise I won’t bite.

No nadar en el río

Three legged adventure dog travels along the Rio Grande River in Texas.

Just when I thought I liked this swimming thing, I get to a river where Mom sez “No Wyatt! Get out of there!”

The Rio Grande River here in Texas is no place for dawgs. It’s mucky green and doesn’t hardly move and if I go in there, Mom says some guy named Montezuma will get me.

Well if I can’t go swimming, what am I supposed to do? It’s NINETY SIX degrees and we have no air conditioning! Ayi carrumba!

Why? Because my Mom and Dad are EL SUPER CHEAPOS and they always stay where it hardly costs nothin. So we’re along the river next to some place called Mexico.

I don’t know why I can’t swim there. Why, I see some dudes crossing it right now. Oh look,they’re coming this way!