The Tripawds Leg-a-cy Continues!
Three legged RV road dog Wyatt Ray gets ready to hit the road to California and meet Northern California Bay Area Tripawds.
Just when I found something fun to do in Fernley, it was time to go. Such is the life of a Road Dawg.
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!
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!
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 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.