Three legged German Shepherd rescue Wyatt Ray talks about wire dog crates to help with his behavior issues.
“Mom, trust me. I’m fine here in this portable crate, I promise I’ll just stay here and play with my toys while you go out and have fun. Take as long as you want, really. I’m a big boy, I know how to take care of myself. . . ”
Hmmmph! Guess that didn’t work. This crate is long gone and now Codie Rae gets to sleep in it.
So Mom just got me this nifty wire crate. Check out how the door opens up on the side. Ain’t that the coolest? Mom got this one because it’s light and fits in the RV. They have really fancy ones that cost a lot of bones, but this one was a bargain, whatever that is.
So far I’ve only broken out of it once. But that was a very tough day, when Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me go herd the 30 goats outside our RV door. I wanted to herd them soooo bad! I’ll save that story for another time . . .
Meanwhile, I’m doing pretty good in my new crate. Today I stayed in it for a whole hour, and I didn’t freak out or anything. All I needed was a walk and a good meal before I was locked inside like a rabid beast. Oh, and covering it with a blanket helped too. I thought it was nightime all of a sudden. Duuuuh!
Mom says thank Dog for zip ties. She used a dozen of them to tie the crate sides and front door shut. Even 3 locks on the door can’t keep me inside! Hey, Codie Rae, tell your pawrents thanks for that idea . . . not!
Training a three legged German Shepherd with a squirt gun and treats.
This is my Dad standing at the door of our dog house on wheels. He’s holding a squirt bottle in one hand, and a bag of yummy treats in the other.
or not to bark? That is the question.
Squirt in the face with water,
or juicy meaty treats?
Ooooooooh! I think I know the answer.
Can I call my lifeline?
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!
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.
Three legged rescue dog Wyatt shares his love of lounging on the couch with readers.
All that time I spent running around at the Ranch sure took its toll on me.
Now that I’m back at home, I’m spending more time napping and less time being a cranky puppy.
Mom and Dad like this a lot. They say I’m a great office dog. They work all day, and I sleep. At 5pm, I ring the bell and let them know it’s time to go for a walk, by running amok and chewing on the corner of their laptops. Today I ran past Dad’s Mac, and yanked the cord right out!
I make sure they don’t work too much. And little by little, as we walk the roads in our new mountain neighborhood, my rear back leg keeps getting stronger.
In no time at all, I’ll run a mile faster than you can say