Get This Thing Offa Me!

Three legged Wyatt Ray Dawg wonders why his humans need to make him wear a Gentle Leader head collar.

I really feel stupid in this snout leash. I don’t know why Mom and Dad use it on me. They say it’s because I walk too fast when I’m on leash.

But that’s  just because I’m so dang excited to get out there and start checking my pee-mail. They just don’t get it.

This thing is making me look bad. And it’s leaving a dent in my snout too, ruining my charming, youthful looks. Sometimes they take it off me and say “OK Wyatt, let’s see if you can be good.” But as soon as  I pull ahead or leap about, they try to strangle me with it. When I go after rolled up newspapers, or try to chase a rabbit, they get all mad and put it right back on me. Go figure.

I heard them tell another two-legger once, “We used it on Jerry too and couldn’t walk him without it for the first 5 years. Agggh!

Then we met a quiet 13 year old bitch who’s people said I need a choke collar. I kept barking at her nonstop, but she wouldn’t tell me anything about that, or what a pinch collar is either.

Anyway, how on earth am I going to train these silly humans? I am not wearing this thing for five more years.

I am Dog. Hear me Roar!

With Thanks to Foster Families Everywhere, Especially Mine

Three legged German Shepherd Wyatt Ray Dawg says Thank You to German Shepherd Rescue of Northern California and his Oakland CA foster family.

Well, I guess you could say that me, my Mom and Dad are very grateful, and thankful to have this special girldog in our lives, Miss Codie Rae.

Last year at this time, I was still a star in the sky, yet to be born into guard dog slavery on the end of a rope. And as for my Mom and Dad, they were pretty sad, since Jerry had just gone on to the Bridge.

Now look at us, we are all one big hoppy family! Well, most of the time. Ok, when I’m a good dawg, which, if you ask my Dad, isn’t as much as he wants but I’m trying sooooo hard! He knows that, I think.

Anyhow, if it wasn’t for German Shepherd Rescue of Northern California, Miss Codie Rae, Smokey and her pawrents Martha and Ralph, who knows where I’d be at this very moment?

Thank you Codie Rae, Smokey, Martha and Ralph! This is the Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.

Because my pawrents adopted me, now Travis Ray has a chance at a good home too. At least he’s with my foster family right now, I bet he’s pretty happy about that. 

My Mom just posted about him in a new German Shepherd Discussion Forums group. Let’s all keep our paws crossed that next Thanksgiving, Travis Ray is writing a blog post just like this one!

The Desert Rose Routine

We’ve been at this Desert Rose place for a while now, it must be our new home. It’s what they call an RV park, but I sure like that place in the mountains much better. Here I’m learning about these things called sidewalks, and how you’re supposed to walk on them even though there are huge green fields all around.

What is a golf course anyway, and why to those funny looking two legged critters with the long black necks get to hang out there? They waddle around like they own the place, and boy do they look tasty!

I do get to run though a big desert field, but it’s really dusty and I’m always getting little sharp thorny things stuck in my paws. And I never get to run off leash, except when playing ball in the big rocky fenced in area with all the empty RVs. But I only get to play ball after my people make me walk up and down all the rows… Wyatt stop. Sit, down, stay, Wyatt come! Repeat.

Eventually that ball comes out and I get to run crazy wild. The rocks hurt when I slide to a stop and bounce around biting at the ball. But my leg is getting stronger, and that callous I’ve had on it from dragging sometimes is getting tougher.

A couple times we went for a short drive to another RV park that’s much prettier. It’s got lots of trees, with lots of leaves, but I guess is too far away for René to ride her bike to her job at Amazon, whatever that is. I don’t mind this little house on wheels so much, since I can get up on the couch, but I definitely liked it better when we all worked at home.

Loving Life and Being a Good Dawg

Three legged dog Wyatt Ray Dawg shares his happy rescue story and new adopted life.

I remember a time when I had four legs. I was just a little kid back then, with a lot of energy and very soft bones. My people kept me chained up in a yard, and I couldn’t go any farther than the rope I was tied to. They hardly fed me, I was skinny as a stick. Nobody ever walked me, or took me around the ‘hood. It wasn’t a nice place. I started to get angry, and bark at everything.

But now, I know that the world is AWESOME! And there’s lots of ground for a Tripawd like me to cover.

I’ve never been so hoppy in my life. I get home cookin and lots of treats. I go on walks three times a day now, and eat three meals too, which is making me a lot less hyper. Oh, I’m also trying real hard not to say hello with my mouth (for some reason, humans don’t like that, go figure!), but that’s a tough one. I know, you front-leg tripawds are probably going “Dude! You’ve got two front paws, use ’em!”

There’s nothing quite like running free through the trees and the bushes and the rocks. I’m in the desert now with my peeps, but tomorrow I might be in the mountains. We travel around and life is good.

Look out world, I’m just getting started.

Three Legged Couch Surfing Across America

Three legged dog Wyatt discovers the joys of couch surfing in an RV

Mom and Dad said I couldn’t get on the furniture at home, not even the bed. They said I haven’t earned that privlige yet. I’m not sure what that means.

But when we moved into the big doghouse on wheels, Dad said I could get on the couch if I wanted to. The couch is the only place where I can see out the window, and I like to see who’s going by. It’s my job, you know.

Here at the RV park in Nevada, there’s lots of peeps going by. The neighbor lady has two cranky old girldogs who sit outside all day and bark all the time. So I sit up here, and tell them who’s boss of this doghouse. I’ll be here until Christmas. It should be fun showing them who’s king around here.

The couch is waaaay more comfortable than my crate. I think I like this thing they call RVing.

But Dad says I still can’t get on the bed.