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.

All kinds of yummy goodness…and barf, too

So last night my Woman and my Boy had pizza. She said that because the day before was my 2-week ampuversary and we didn’t do anything special, we would have a pawty last night. I had gone to the v-e-t and found that I am losing weight on my diet, so it seemed the perfect time for pizza! Evelyn and I split a slice. It wasn’t enough and we told my Woman that, but she acted like she didn’t hear. In fact, when Evelyn got right up in her grille to tell her about it, my Woman pushed Evelyn away and told her “bugger off.” That’s not very nice.

I took over then and rammed my head into my Woman’s leg over and over, trying to get her attention. She said “you’re getting back to your obnoxious self, Dakota” and told me to lay down. That’s not very nice either.

Then today I remembered that it’s almost the end of February, but it’s still February. We all know what February is, right? Girl Scout Cookie Time! I found where they’d hidden the cookies, and Evelyn and I both tried to get it open, but then my Woman saw us and took the box. Turns out my Man bought them this year and he only bought what he likes, which are Thin Mints. Well, we can’t have those because of the chocolate. My stupid Woman got us some crunchies, like she thought that would be any kind of acceptable substitute. I ate mine, but I also made a rude gesture behind her back.

That's my attempt to get it open.
Evelyn was more aggressive but alas unsuccessful.

 

When I first had my leg stolen by stealth and extreme ninja skills, my Woman was putting yummy squishy food on top of the hard stuff. She started slowly taking that away last week. I noticed. I did. But without opposable thumbs, there’s not much I can do about it. Now Evelyn and I both get chicken broth on our hard stuff. And my Woman told my Man last week that when this hard stuff is gone, she isn’t going to buy any more of it. She said she’s going to start vomiting on us! I mean, oh my dog! This woman I trained so well to be my perfect Woman is going to hurl on me! So when she barfs on me the first time, I’m going to put out a bulletin here and ask for a new family. If anyone else out there is getting barfed on, please speak up before it’s too late! If we join together, we can stop this madness. She even said it with a smile on her face. I need a new Woman.

I went for a car ride and did not barf

My Woman took me in the car today, and I tried really hard to act like I wanted to go. When I saw the leash, I knew the drill. I decided to have a little fun, though, and I drug her down the driveway to the back of the car. She kept saying, “Dakota, wait!” She wanted to open the back of the car and then help me jump in, but I wanted to jump before she opened the car. That actually doesn’t work out very well, to be honest.

I went to the post office because there were 3 boxes waiting for us there. It was like Christmas! Three boxes! And 2 of them were for me. One was from Jim and Rene. It was the anxiety wrap that I’m going to test out and then review. My Woman and Jim and Rene are hoping that it will help me in the car. My Woman also hopes it will help when I lick everything  because I’m nervous. I don’t care about that. I like licking holes in the carpet.

The other package was from Spirit Indi, or maybe she’s Angel Indi. Her pawrent is Raina and when Indi was a tripawd, she had this pawsome red harness that helped her get around. Unfortunately, Indi didn’t get to use it very long because she got much sicker and then went to heaven. Raina said I could have it, and that is the most special thing ever. So Indi’s harness came and my Woman put it on me and took my picture and said it made her want to cry because it was such an honor to put Indi’s harness on me. I’m not sure what that was about, but the harness smelled really good. It smelled like Indi, and she was a girl dog so I liked it.

I also went to the v-e-t and got weighed. My Man and Woman have been giving me less food, which ticks me off, but they say it’s to help me get around better now that I am a tripawd. I refused to get on the scale so my Woman hauled me onto it and the v-e-t petted my head while I sulked. When I had my surgery, I weighed 86 pounds. Today I weighed 78 pounds. So how much did my leg weigh? That’s the magic question.

I wished I hadn’t lost any weight because my Woman said that she would quit my diet if it wasn’t working. She said if I hadn’t lost weight, she would let me have more food because I have been unhappy with less food. She didn’t think I understood what that meant, but I did. So I hoped I was still 86 pounds. But you know what? I’m kinda proud that I lost 8 pounds in 2 weeks.

After the v-e-t, we came home. I had a busy morning. I slobbered a lot in the car because it makes me nervous to go for rides. So there is my story of how I went for a car ride but I did not barf.

Love, D.

This is me wearing Indi's harness. It smells so nice...like Indi.

It’s my 2-week ampuversary!

I don’t have a freakin’ clue what an ampuversary is, but my Woman told me that if I was going to write this blog (another word that sounds like something I hawked up), I should say it’s my 2-week ampuversary. I think she means it’s been 2 weeks since these nice ladies talked to me while I went to sleep and then forgot to guard me and let someone come in and chop off my leg. What’s so special about that? I think it’s a lot like D-Day, another day that will live in infamy. And I don’t trust my Woman now because that’s twice that she took me someplace and let people cut off important bits.

Anyway, I did something that amazed my Woman. You see, my Man and my Woman and my Boy got up early and then left the house really fast. Last night they were putting a bunch of stuff into bags and boxes and I know what that means. It means someone is going away and leaving me with this monkeydog Evelyn. But I never know who’s leaving, and sometimes that stresses me out a bit. I stress easily. I’m rather delicate that way. So I got nervous that I was being left. I decided to see if anyone else was here. I went upstairs to the big bedroom. I haven’t tried going upstairs since they whacked off my leg, but it wasn’t too hard, I guess. Honestly, I don’t remember how hard it was. I have a bad memory, too.

I lay down in the big bedroom and waited to see what would happen and if anyone was going to come home. And I knew that the closed door had someone behind it, someone still asleep. My Man and Woman’s other Boy is living here with his Woman. They are staying for a little while. Something about moving here and finding a house. Anyhoo, I knew that Woman was in there and she would see me when she woke up. And she did! And she was so surprised and she made funny noises and gave me lots of love. And then she had to figure out how the hell to get me down the stairs because I didn’t think that far ahead. But we worked it out.

So that’s my ampuversary story. My Woman came home without my Man. I guess he is gone for awhile. That’s ok, because my Woman is the one who knows the food trick so she’s the important one. I heard her say I should be sweet to him because he paid for the amputation, whatever that means. They’re such funny guys.

Love, D.

Me, my bed and my Boy

Dakota takes a turn

Ok, the Woman is not a dog but she is my mom. I thought she liked me. I like her. But she humiliated me. She wrote a silly thing about making me wear that awful pink thing and then she put pictures here so you could all see how goofy and feminine I look in a pink thing. That is humiliating. So I took over. At least for now. I read how to change the name on the account and put my name on it. It is now Dakota Dawg’s blog. I am Dakota Dawg, and I do not wear pink!

I would like to address Mom’s concerns. First of all–yes, the damn thing itches like crazy. It drives me bananas. If I could take a stick and rub it all over the sore place, I would. It hurts when I lick it, but it feels good, too. I don’t know which to pay attention to, the hurting when I lick it or the itching when I don’t. Mom doesn’t have any idea how awful it feels. She says it will stop itching soon. I don’t know if I can trust her anymore.

And no, I wasn’t being naughty. I was being a dog. Or a dawg, even. I am a wild animal, a creature of nature, and I shouldn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. I know who I am and what I deserve. I deserve to feel better, I deserve to run around wherever I want and pee on anything I feel like. I deserve to bark at whatever time I want to bark. I deserve to have that big pillow on the left side of my bed, and I deserve to have my supper at 4 p.m. sharp. Mom’s getting better about that last part.

This morning I sat on the driveway while Mom did the heavy lifting. I watched her bring in firewood. I was wearing the silly pink shirt thing. I can’t figure out how to get it off. But she did the hard work and I thought about licking my butt. I learned how to prop up against a wall to make it look even lazier. I tried to make it look good. The neighbor’s dogs were mouthing off again and I growled. I haven’t felt like growling for a couple of weeks, but today I did. I thought about running off into the woods and kicking their butts, but I remembered I was doing a study in laziness so I stayed propped against the wall. And growled. And honestly, I also remembered that I was wearing a pink thing and knew I could never let them see me like that.

I found the pictures Mom took of me in the pink thing. The worst part was being betrayed by Evelyn. She just sat there with me and didn’t care that I had to wear her clothes–girl clothes. She laughed at me after Mom put us to bed. She is the worst roommate in the whole world. See? She didn’t help me at all. My eyes are pleading for help and she didn’t care.

Evelyn was useless when Mom put the pink thing on me. I was very disappointed.

I’m not sure if I will lock Mom out of this blog permanently. I have to think about it. She really ticked me off. She has let strangers cut off several parts of my body that were pretty important to me and then wounded my dignity. I’m gonna take a nap and sleep on it. I’ll get back to you.

Dakota is naughty

Dakota’s incision must be itching something fierce because last night he started licking it through the shirt he’s been wearing, saturating the shirt. He managed to pull the shirt-tail up and lick the lower part of the incision. He even opened up a little gap, and it started bleeding slightly. The surrounding skin was red and splotchy. Overall, it did not look so great and he would not leave it alone. Because I’d changed his shirts every time he got them wet, I ran out of things to put on him. And I needed something that would be impossible for him to pull up. (I’d even safety-pinned the shirt-tails snugly around him.) The only thing left to put on him was Evelyn’s stylish pink fleece. It even has a hood.

Dakota seemed unhappy about this change of wardrobe, but I thought he was kind of cute. Pink isn’t really his color, but maybe he’ll stop licking that incision and opening it up!