Three legged German Shepherd tripod Wyatt Ray Dawg hits the road in an RV to the California desert.
Ok how’s this: “Wyatt Ray Road Dawg.” What do you think?
We packed up and left my Grandpawrent’s house in Los Angeles last week. Now we are in the desert, by this big stinky lake they call the “Salton Sea.” This place is craaaaaaazy. Lots of kooky campers, some wild desert dawgs, coyotes, and crazy jets zooming around most days. They’re loud but they don’t bug me a bit.
The place we are camped still isn’t as nutty as my Grandpawrent’s house was. Over there they had people coming and going all the time, and lots of little kids who kept running from me.
They were loud and made me all nervous and jumpy. I had to constantly be on alert there. Every time I barked they got more and more afraid of me. I wasn’t trying to hurt them, I was just being as energetic as they were, you know what I mean?
The funny thing is, they didn’t seem to get that maybe if they didn’t act so afraid of me, I wouldn’t have been so nervous. Duuuuh.
It’s pretty quiet here in the desert, and I like it that way. When dogs do come around, I tend to get pretty excited, but I think I’m getting better at sending silent psychic messages that tell them to be cool, instead of barking my head off.
Oh hey, here’s a picture of me eating these yummy raw rib bones that I got for my BIRTHDAY. Yeah, I turned 1 year old in January! Yipee! Hoppy Birthday to me! My pawrents are so lame, they didn’t make a big deal out of it like some Tripawd pawrents do around here. That’s alright, I’ll forgive them….this time. Maybe next year I’ll get some trachea!
I’m not sure what that means. All I know is that she cooks more for me, like every two days! And it makes me craaaaaazy when I smell it on the stove. She can’t understand why I drool and beg and whine and shake whenever that stuff is cookin’. She’s a great cook!
Mom says she’s thinking about buying me kibble, because she’s mad that she can’t put ice cream or frozen shrimp in the little freezer. She says my food takes up all the space! I say, “so what?!”
When we leave the Desert Rose and head to the big city, it’s kibble for me I guess, or at least until we get back to Colorado. Personally, I don’t care what I eat. I love ANY food. Mom doesn’t have to work so hard. I’ll eat polyfill stuffing from my Barney if she lets me.
German Shepherd puppy Wyatt eats raw chicken and loves the BARF diet for dogs.
When I came to live with Mom and Dad, I was on some pretty good dog food. It tasted just fine, I didn’t complain. But Mom complained. She said I had bad breath, and my teeth were getting pretty icky, which just doesn’t seem right for a puppy with brand new choppers.
Wow, I had no idea that food could taste this good! There’s nothing like a hearty chomp! chomp! chomp! on a chicken leg. I can devour them in seconds, as you can see. I’ve also eaten a lot of liver, beef, and turkey. Mom says she has some fish for me too, but she’s waiting until she knows I can handle it.
She also makes me eat my veggies. Parsley, carrots, whatever’s in the fridge. She chops it up really fine, and mixes it into my main dinner (which is still kibble, but seems like I’m getting less of that these days). Or, she’s also learning to cook for me too, with this book she just got, The Whole Pet Diet.
I really don’t mind the green stuff. I’ll gladly eat it as long as I can have my chicken dinner!
This week I got my first tastes of something called the BARF diet.
I know what you’re thinking. Pretty sick. Next thing you know, I’m going to tell you how I like to eat moose poo too (yum!). But check this out:
My Mom gave me raw chicken to snack on this week, and then yesterday I got this big huge cow bone. Man, that thing rocks! I’ve been working on it for two days now, and I think I finally picked it clean.
I’m still getting my kibble and some homemade chicken stew mixed in, but Mom says she wants to start feeding me nothing but human foods.