Author: Dakota Dawg

Dakota lived high in Colorado and was a member of the February Furballs. He lost a front leg to soft tissue sarcoma on 2-11-11. Dakota impulsively decided to see what the whole "rainbow bridge" business was about on 12-15-12 and before we could stop him, he was gone. But never forgotten. Never.

Well poop…missed my ampuversary!

I think I may move out. My Woman has been way too distracted lately and she just told me tonight that we missed my 6-month ampuversary! Doggone it, that’s not right. She seems rather casual about it too. When she told me and I started to cry a little, she told me to buck up because I don’t have bone cancer. Like that makes it any better! So I had a different cancer, and I have a great chance of living till I’m old–big frickin’ deal, right? Am I right? Somebody give me an “amen!”

My ampuversary was on the 11th, for crying out loud! She missed it by almost two weeks! And now she’s reading over my shoulder and telling me to get over it. She says she has a lot on her mind. Honest-to-dog, I think she’s lost her bloody little mind. Weasel. I am not happy. Evelyn peed on the laundry room floor last night and I was disgusted, but now I’m thinking I’ll pay her to do it again. I can tolerate the odor if it’s for a good cause. What a b*tch. And I don’t mean Evelyn.

Well, to update anyone who cares (do you hear me, Woman?)–my big summer event was the posture-and-yowl fest at Wyatt’s place. I wrote about it, but it’s still the highlight of my summer. We did that Fort Collins shindig, followed by over the river and through the woods to Wyatt’s house. Criminy, what a ride. I got to watch Evelyn try to eat Wyatt. She is very embarrassing. Right now she’s eating a moth. Anyway, summer moved forward.  I had two different house sitters recently. Both involved men, which just ticks me off to no end. I do not like men, and the Woman knows that.

I really feel like I’m doing nothing but complaining, but this Woman has been so unsatisfactory lately. Sending men to babysit me. Okay, in all fairness, the one who babysat me in June was pretty decent. I did make him wait four days before I let him touch me, but that seemed fair. It was that or pee on the floor, and we already know I’m not the one that does that. This guy gave me shoulder and neck massages, and they were excellent. I did not want to let him know how blissful they made me, but he found out. He told the Woman, of course. He had some magic fingers. I think I even drooled.

So most of my summer has been spent sleeping (medicinal naps, Gayle) and watching chipmunks. I think they’re amusing. Evelyn wants to kill them, but I just think they’re silly. Besides, they get so worked up over the tiniest little things. And in a couple of months, it will snow here and they’ll lose their tiny little minds and I’ll be warm and cozy. So why should Evelyn care since she’ll be cozy, too? Well, I think maybe the chipmunks have bigger brains than Evelyn. Maybe that’s why.

Oh, and speaking of chipmunks, my Boy has this great idea! He has been telling the Woman he wants to make chipmunk jerky! Isn’t that the most awesome thing ever? I hope she lets him. She said something about it being disgusting and messy and not worth the trouble, but I think it’s fantastic! I’ll let you know if it happens. I know she’s taking him out tomorrow to get something called an “airsoft rifle,” and he said “jerky, here I come.” The Woman laughed so it might be a joke, but I’m going to check this out and stay hopeful. I have no idea what airsoft rifle means, but it might be fun. Or not, since it involves the Boy and he frequently scares the poo out of me. Not on purpose, you understand. I’m just a bit of a sissy.

I think I’m starting to ramble so that means I’m tired. It’s probably been at least 15 minutes since I got any sleep so I should definitely rest up. Evelyn is already snoring. My Woman is folding her laundry. My Boy is watching more ridiculous Japanese animation and laughing out loud. I think it turned out to be a pretty decent evening, even if they missed my big day. Oh well, maybe it is okay to act like I’m normal. Normal is fine, isn’t it?

Love, Dakota

Animal House!!!

Whoa, I’m still hung over and queasy, but I had a wild weekend! I spent the weekend with Wyatt Ray Dawg and Evelyn the Embarrassment. That’s her new name. It was my 4-month ampuversary and my Woman loaded me and the Embarrassment and my Boy into the car and took us all away for the weekend. I don’t like car rides, you know, and I wasn’t happy to go. But it was still fun and entertaining. And dang did we keep the humans busy! That was worth every minute, watching them do all kinds of stuff to keep us happy and out of trouble. I figure it’s the least I can do to pay my Woman back for hacking off my leg.

So what did we do? Well, I slobbered a lot, panted a whole bunch and drank gallons of water. I growled some, curled my lip a few times, laid on the deck in the sun, ate some ice cream, and explored outside. I peed on as many of Wyatt’s pee spots as I could work it up for (why do you think I drank all that water) and continually ran up the hillside to my Car and waited for the back end to pop up so I could jump in. Hey, I have issues. You know this if you’ve been payin’ attention.

We were a bunch of recalcitrant miscreants, according to my Woman. Look it up. I did. (Recalcitrant: —Synonyms
1.  resistant, rebellious, opposed. See unruly.  Miscreant: 1. a wrongdoer or villain; 2. archaic an unbeliever or heretic)

Oh yeah, we were rebellious, unruly villains and heretics.  Here is proof:

 

Me at Wyatt Ray's place, right after the Jello shots.
Wyatt going out for more beer.
This is Evelyn at Wyatt's place. No further explanation needed.

Most Expensive Dental Procedure EVAR

I am very happy to report that I had my humongoid dental exam and extensive mouth tidying-up and it cost so much money! Yippee! I am worth a lot! My Woman got some help paying for it because she needed it, and she said she is very grateful. I don’t know anything about that, but I do know that I am stoned out of my mind on a bunch of pain meds and I am so happy! I even tried to help Evelyn chase a moth flying around the room and I fell over. Oh man, that was funny!

They put me to sleep but I woke up with 3 legs still. I thought that they might cut one more off or put the old one back on, but they didn’t. I was kind of disappointed. This is what they did to me: cleaned my teeth; x-rayed some of my teeth; pulled 3 teeth; removed 2 tumors from my gums; sewed up my gums; buffed my ugly nose!

Yep, while I was asleep they buffed off the nasty stuff on my nose. Now I have new medicine to take to try to fix my likely-lupus. Since I start off with a nice nose, my Woman will be able to tell better if the new stuff fixes it. If my nose looks good in a couple of weeks, then the medicine is working. I didn’t feel it when they did it, but it is raw and sore now. Another reason for the pain stuff. And now I have 5 medicines to take! Can you believe it? That’s a bunch, and I’m going to try my hardest to give my Woman a really hard time about it. Good luck, lady! (P.S. I brought home the disgusting teeth so if anyone wants to see them, send me a PM but DON’T tell my Woman, ‘k?)

Me in my big crate on the way home. See my new, raw nose?
This is me kind of wild-eyed, 'cause I'm high as a kite! Whee!

I Went to the V-E-T and Lived

It’s been a long time since I had any real news to report. Before this week, it was all the same: snow, rain, mud, snow, puddles. Lather, rinse, repeat. However, my Woman conspired against me and took me to a new v-e-t yesterday. I was not amused.

Shari here. For the record, Dakota does better in the car now that he can’t stand up and try to pace. Amputation apparently solves a myriad of problems.

I need to have my teeth fixed, and everyone knows about my schnoz. I have a working diagnosis of discoid lupus on my nose. My snoot. My snout. My schnozola. And the v-e-t thought it looked very much like lupus. And my Woman did act like she cared about me. When he told her all the things it looked like it could be, and then told her the treatment for those things, my Woman said “The treatments are all the same. So why do a biopsy?” I know what a biopsy is. They want to punch a piece out of this incredibly tender nose of mine. She tried to save me! I do love her!

There are several possibilities, but the treatment regimen for all included the same set of meds. I figure there is no reason to biopsy D if we can avoid it. He is traumatized enough just by looking at him cross-eyed. And 3 stitches in the tender nose sounds like something I would want to avoid for myself. If the nose doesn’t respond to treatment, then we may have to biopsy it.

They have ordered my medication and it should come in very soon, maybe today even. I have an appointment next week for my teeth. Because the jerks who tossed me out when I was a puppy didn’t take care of me or my mom, I have dental enamel hypoplasia. Big words. Another v-e-t said my mom probably had distemper when I was growing inside her, or maybe I had distemper when I was a baby. It often comes from that. But this hypoplasia business means my teeth are messed up. They’re all discolored, but the worst part is that they are weak and some are really worn. I don’t chew on tennis balls or rocks, but my teeth look like I do. Some are worn way down. I may come home with a lot fewer teeth than I have now. I also have developed a tumor at my gumline. This v-e-t thinks it’s benign, but it will be sent away to make sure.

Dakota developed on of these things almost overnight. It’s bugging him, but it will be gone next week, along with the tooth. I was told that they generally recur because they branch off from the offending tooth’s root. Dakota has a broken canine, which doesn’t appear to be hurting him but will likely be extracted. He’s had several extractions before. When he was a pup, we were told he might end up toothless due to his hypoplasia.

So that’s all the news from here. I’ll let you all know how things turn out next week.

My DNA test results are in!

This is me. This is what I look like. I have always thought of myself as a Golden Retriever mix.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is what I am, though. I am mostly these two things. I am stunned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then I am also some of these 2 guys, though not as much as the ones above:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then I’m a tiny bit of…this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

So my Woman is incredulous, whatever that means. She said that Irish Setters have a reputation for being cognitively challenged. I dunno what that means, either. She’s using big words.

The company my Woman used for my DNA test was BioPet. She picked them because they have the highest level of accuracy. They give their reports in levels. This is the way it works:

Level 1 means the breed listed represents over 75% of the DNA. That dog would probably have a purebred parent.

Level 2 means the breed listed represents 37-74% of the DNA.

Level 3 means the breed listed represents 20-36% of the DNA.

Level 4 means the breed listed represents 10-19% of the DNA.

Level 5 means the breed listed represents less than 10 % of the DNA.

So for me, it’s obvious that I am a true mutt! I have no Level 1 or 2 in me anywhere. The  highest level in my ancestry is Level 3. The majority of my DNA comes from an Airedale and and Irish Setter (both Level 3). Then the next-highest amount of my DNA comes from a Golden and a Bull Terrier (both Level 4). And then for spice, I have a tiny bit of a Scotty thrown in (Level 5). The testing company reminds us that we may look like a breed that isn’t very prevalent (like me looking mostly like a Golden), or we may look like a breed that isn’t even in our makeup. And as for behavior, well, I’m a mixed bag. Who the heck knows.

My test took about 10 days, and it was very exciting to get the results! My Woman said some interesting words when she saw the results, and I don’t know what those words mean, either–but it’s still nifty to see where I came from!