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Old dog, new tricks

Dakota gets his 3rd chance at age 9

Monkeydogs? Monkeybutts? Confused?

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Lemme 'splain:


One term that comes up in Dakota’s blog is “monkeydog” or “monkeybutt” or some combination of both–or even “monkeybutthead.” This concept was created by Tripawd member cometdog and describes the obnoxious behavior of the 4-legged dog in the family after another dog becomes a tripawd. Essentially, because so much love and attention are being lavished on the new tripawd, the other dog can cause havoc or get into trouble, much like human sibling rivalry. So a monkeydog is one that steals toys from the tripawd, or rushes at the door to get out first and knocks over the tripawd, or just generally makes life hard for the tripawd and its family.

Evelyn thought long and hard about joining the ranks of the monkeydogs and ultimately decided that she didn’t belong because her naughty and rude behavior was there from the start, long before Dakota lost his leg. Since being a “bad dog” is part of her makeup and she is incredibly proud of it, she would rather just go through life knowing she makes being a bad dog look good.

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2 Comments to

“Monkeydogs? Monkeybutts? Confused?”

  1. March 2nd, 2011 at 1:50 pm      Reply admin Says:

    Thanks for the explanation! This page could use a picture of Evelyn.

    Tripawds members with Monkeydogs of their own might consider joining the Anti-MonkeyButt Force.

  2. March 2nd, 2011 at 5:22 pm      Reply CatiesMom Says:

    Oh, isn’t that just the sweetest face.

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October 2017
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What came before

Dakota is our Golden Retriever mix, and he was likely born in February 2002. His full name is South Dakota Watson, and we found him on Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota in August 2002. The area we discovered him had no homes, no structures, no bodies of water, no shelter. He had his permanent teeth but was still a puppy, so we assumed 6 months was a reasonable age guesstimate. He weighed 12 pounds, which was grossly underweight. Two weeks later, he weighed 23 pounds. He was too weak to eat much so we fed him 6 times a day. Sometimes he would just collapse at his food dish and fall down, and I would have to feed him by hand.

I wish Dakota could write this page because he is the only one who knows the beginning. From his birth until the day we found him, we have no idea what he endured. Well, that’s not entirely true. We know some of it, and other bits we can infer from his behavior. For instance, we know for a fact that Dakota was suffering from malnutrition, sarcoptic mange, assorted internal parasites, flea anemia, dehydration and dental enamel hypoplasia (pitting and staining of the teeth commonly resulting from distemper as a puppy before the teeth emerge). We can infer that Dakota had distemper from the hypoplasia. We can infer that he was deliberately dumped. And we can infer that a man in a baseball cap wearing sunglasses hit him with some kind of stick and chased him off with a hose. Dakota has problems with all of those things.

Dakota has every reason in the world to hate people, but he doesn’t. He’s very mistrustful of strangers, but he is beyond loyal to his family. Once he meets someone and gets the ok from us, he opens his heart to them, too. He is very attached to me, probably because he was isolated (due to the mange) for the first 11 weeks we had him. He had nice digs set up for him in our house, but he could only look at our other 2 dogs and not touch them. I was the one providing all his care during that time, as we found out the hard way that mange can be transfered to humans. To protect our young son, no one but me played with Dakota during those 11 weeks.

Because we feel pretty sure that Dakota survived distemper, and he survived being abandoned, surviving cancer should be no biggie for him.

We know Dakota’s cancer is not an osteosarcoma, and his chest films were clear, one month apart. We are very optimistic about his long-term prognosis in light of those facts. Hopefully we have several more years with him and he will grow old with us, just as he should.

Right after we got home with Dakota, all 12 pounds of him.

Eyes swollen shut, ragged ears, and just as calm as could be.