With the day of Thanksgiving upon us, it's important to remember why we celebrate such a delicious holiday.
My People, the following is the story of Thanksgiving. Brought to you by my little brother Rigsby, and me, Bojie (the great).
*editors note, I am so proud of the boys, I totally gave them artistic freedom to tell their story with no script and their improv was amazing, also, I made these costumes so I deserve props too*
*AHEM* One day Chief Bojie stumbled upon a very lethargic Pilgrim named Rigsby. Bojie said, "HAU! I come in peace. Why are you so weak my little Pilgrim?"
Pilgrim Rigsby explained, "We have no seeds, and no crops to eat, we're starving!" Chief Bojie said, "No fear little Pilgrim, I will share my seeds and my knowledge with you, and help you cultivate your crops". This was a very serious discussion. Very. Serious. . .
Along with the crops they planted, the Pilgrim and the Chiefs friendship bloomed...
And now little pilgrim, it is important to thank the earth for all of our blessings. Let us pray.
Oh, Chief! I must invite you to eat with me after all you've taught me and how much you've helped my family...Please join me as we break kibble.
And the chief did. Theirs is a friendship that has carried the meaning of Thanksgiving in our hearts forever.
"Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way."
Native American saying
Happy Thanksgiving to all of our friends throughout the world! We are thankful for your friendship and love!
Uh, um, you see, this improv stuff is exhausting...Got Turkey? No, I mean it. Can you spare a leg or something?
"Wonderful day
to lay out after the horrid winter we've had, isn't it dear? Please tell Olga
I'll be ready for my deep tissue massage at noon, after I finish my martini.
And fetch me that special oil I like. You know, the one with the lavender. . .
. . .Oh!
And Dear! Please tell Andrew to stop putting those little umbrellas in my
drink. For goodness sake, I am no longer a child. . ."
OK, people. Before I tell you all of my most recent adventures, it's important to fill you in on a really important story first. Sometimes, I have to take things down a few notches and be serious. Besides the fact that I like talking about myself, it's also really important for me to include this story in my blog, because A LOT of fellow dogs and their people have to go through this, and sometimes, every so often, this blog can be educational! Can you believe it! I can be your YODA!
So my students, let me take this opportunity to tell you that not only am I awesome. I am a super hero. I think that after you hear this story, you will appreciate my successes even more. You all know about the emergency surgery that saved my life from an obstruction, because you faithfully read my blog and would never miss a post. RIGHT?! You can brush up on that story *Here* just in case you repressed it because it was so scary for you.
Now, I need to tell you another family secret. Besides the fact that I am magical like a unicorn because I have opposable thumbs and can type on a computer, I am also bionic. For. Real. Like, if I walked through one of those metal detectors at an airport, it would totally go off. And they'd check my fur, and check my collar, and everyone would probably think I "was packing" (I love using that phrase, because sometimes I like to listen to rap) because I've been known to wear cowboy hats and bandanas (that was a little sneaky line I added to give you a hint of a story coming soon- put it in your memory bank). BUT! The truth is, the metal is INSIDE ofme.
You see, about 6 months after my emergency surgery for an obstruction, I was practicing pulling my cart one day getting ready to take the draft test and all of the sudden SNAP! I felt like something was very wrong in my back leg. Like what happens to all those middle aged men, who think they're still as bad ass as they were in high school, and decide to join a men's basketball league or lacrosse league and they go out all crazy like they are 20 yrs old again. You know what I'm talking about. The men that start sweating as soon as they get out of their car, they've got new shiny sneakers which totally give away the fact that they are so out of shape, but they still consider themselves to be uber athletes because they played in college. They think they look like this:
But really they look like this:
and then they do one quick sprint as soon as they get on the court or the field and tear their ACL. But they go home and tell their wives the injury happened during a "really hard hit" or "a dunk" when really, all they did was take their first jog in like 15yrs? Yeah, that's how I felt.
But I digress. . .The next thing that I knew, I was totally lame on my back left leg. My mom did her silent freak out thing that she does when she's all worried about me and she called the vet. I was thoroughly examined, had some xrays and had a positive drawer test on my exam which proved that I had ruptured my CCL (cranial cruciate ligament- you see, unlike the middle aged fat hairy bald guys who get hurt and tear their ACL's we dogs have CCL's. Same type of injury slightly different location in the knee). Two days later, I was in an operating room having TPLO surgery (I was going to go all into detail about what this is, but the truth is if you have found my blog that means that you are that adept at using the internet, you can totally find out all of that information on your own, plus then my blog gets really serious, and sad, and overkill boring)
. . .But get this guys. My mom was IN THE OPERATING ROOM WITH ME. She was there for the ENTIRE thing! I was never alone! Even when I woke up! There she was! She is the coolest mom EVAH! Also, I think she is every veterinarians nightmare. But, I still think she's cool when she's not acting all crazy, so whatev's you veterinarians. Think what you will.
MY surgeon was equally as cool as my mom, because he invited her in to watch. Also he's awesome. Also, my mom ends up getting a crush on ANYONE who takes care of me when I'm super sick or injured. No matter what they look like because to her, they all just look like super man even if they probably just look like one of those middle aged men about to tear a muscle or break a bone on the basketball court.
Here is a photo chronicle that my mom took of my time in the hospital. At the very end, There are some super cool videos of my recovery. You better watch them. Remember, I am a super hero now, so I will be able to tell if you don't watch them (I'm like freaking Santa Claus. You're on my list!) They make reading through all of this blog post worth it. I got to swim in an indoor pool AND walk on an underwater treadmill. Seriously, I doubt any of those hairy mens wives take them to indoor pools and underwater treadmills after they have their surgeries. It was like I had arrived at Newf Disney Land. I also got a bully stick after EVERY session. Trust me, there is nothing NOTHING like bulls penis after a hard work out (that's what a bully stick is- I'm not being derogatory. LOOK IT UP PEOPLE! You're on the internet! FORGET JARED! NOTHING SAYS I LOVE YOU LIKE SOME TASTY BULLS PENIS!)
In the anesthesia recovery unit:
In the CCU:
Going home:
Rigsby snuck into my crate to give me kisses when my mom went to get me fresh water. Sometimes, he can be pretty cute.
meniscus tear and repair
Pre TPLO and Post TPLO Xrays
These are the videos I told you about. . .Remember, Santa's watching. Push play!
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Uh, um, hullo. I noticed that I have 4000 hits on my blog, and I just wanted to inform you, my people, that I have not forgotten about you, or this blog. I have just been really, really, really busy at being awesome. NO! I mean it. I really have. Wait until you hear about all of the things I've been doing. Being awesome means that I have A LOT of material for new blog posts coming up. I don't even want to give anything away because my stories are pretty entertaining, but please stay tuned! I have been out "on tour" as my momma likes to call it, surveying my land and meeting new friends and doing lots of working events and even my baby brother Rigsby has been busy! Seriously, minus like 100lbs, and my mom is like the pageant mom in that show*"Here comes Honey Boo Boo". * That would kind of make me like Honey boo boo, but I'm a lot cuter. Also, I know a lot more tricks.
LOTS of stories coming soon! Promise! I just had to wait until I got off tour to get home to use my opposable thumbs. Yes, I am magical. Like a unicorn. Only more like a bear with opposable thumbs. It's kind of a family secret. But, now you know. OK!? I HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS! THERE!
*Editors note: We have no affiliation with TLC or the show Honey Boo Boo, but for that plug, we do think we deserve a crack at our own little show...we guarantee it would be a chart buster. So, dudes at TLC...Call me? Maybe?
Friday, August 10, 2012
*Ahem* I have an important announcement to make about my awesomeness. I PASSED MY DRAFT TEST! I haven't posted in so long because I've been basking in the glory of it all. I am now BeeCreek's Allan's Angel CGC, TDI, RN, WD1, BN, DD! I am hard at work this summer practicing my boat jumps so that I can earn my Water Rescue Dog title. Draft work is fun, but it isn't nearly as fun as rescuing people! No body is screaming, flailing, needing my help desperate for my manliness to come save them (well except my momma of course, she's slightly embarrassing when she cheers for me and gets excited at these things). I can say that now since I am officially a draft dog. Stay tuned! I get more and more awesome every few months!
Here's a video of me on the maneuvering course
"Whoa. Easy there. . . Yeah, I DID have a nice time too, but I have work in the morning and reaaaally need to hit the hay." As you walk away thinking "He looked nothing like his Match.com photo"
Well my friends, in honor of being really close to getting almost 3000 hits on my blog from people from all over the world (Shout out to the Ukraine and the Netherlands! Fist pump to my peeps in the Philippines! Hej! to my fans in Sweden!), I decided it was time to take it down a notch. Yes, yes, I know, I'm known for my amazing sense of humor and larger than life personality but every once in a while something serious happens. I've finally gotten a handle on my Post Traumatic Stress disorder and I can now share the worst thing that has ever happened to me with the world. It's taken a long time to get to this point people, but I'm ready to share. My therapist tells me it's cathartic.
OK, here it is. Bottom line. I did something horrible. BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT! And I swear! It was before you knew me!
It all started one morning when my mom was running late for work back in July 2009. But I didn't realize what a bad decision I made until I suffered the repercussions of it all a FULL YEAR LATER. I thought I was scott free! Until it all came back to bite me in my hairy arse. . .
The momma was running super late for work one morning, and she did something that she NEVER does. She left the bathroom door open! Oh my dog! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! A whole new world to explore while she was gone! I had a feeling that there was something awfully delicious in that bathroom. Something wildly exotic and delectable (like that fresh salmon my brothers from another mother eat up in Canada, when they're out and aboot, eh? Holla to my Canadian fans! Love that maple leaf!) Why else would she keep that room such a secret for so long? It was probably stocked to the gills with salmon (pun definitely intended) So, I did what any dog as intelligent as I am would do. . .I raided the place. To be honest, the toilet paper left my mouth feeling a bit dry and I needed something to cleanse my palate. Enter the bath tub. . .
There were a lot of super cool things in this tub and I knew all about it because one time when I was really little, my mom was swimming in there and I decided I should join her and she didn't notice until she got the shampoo out of her eyes that I was at her feet! I loved it! So, naturally I felt that after an appetizer of toilet paper I should go for a swim myself to work up an appetite. Except that there was no water in there guys. How BORING! She only keeps her swimming pool full for herself to swim in!? I really like my momma, but I have to tell you, I think that's really selfish of her. It's an issue I'm still trying to overcome through therapy, but doesn't every dog have their momma issues? I tried to figure out how to fill the pool up for myself and instead of figuring out how the water comes out, I found something amazingly chewy. It was so chewy I could only imagine that there had to be some really delicious juices in it once I released the rainbow of fruit flavor by chewing it as much as I could. Well, nothing came out, so I simply swallowed it. Whole.
The momma came home from work and I have no idea why, but she really seemed displeased with my home decorating skills in the bathroom. She took a quick inventory, and realized I had eaten her newly placed plastic drain hair catcher.
And she freaked. Not the yelling freak out, but you know that panicky thing that moms do? For days after my toilet paper raid, she kept sifting through my poop like a psychiatric patient. She even wore a headlamp at night so that she could see it better, but she never found anything. I tried to act totally normal, like nothing happened. She seemed pretty cool with me, and I was sure she wasn't upset with me anymore because a few days later she dropped me off at my most favorite place that I get to stay at when she goes on vacation. I remember that my friend who takes care of me followed me every time I pooped and looked through it just like my mom did. How embarrassing! Can't a man poop in peace? I mean, I know some dogs that need to bring the paper with them when they poop! But she didn't find anything, and my mom came home from her vacation and I remember overhearing her telling someone that "I must have passed it without anyone seeing it" because I was acting totally normal.
Here's where the scary part starts. . .
Fast forward to A YEAR LATER. July 2010. The momma and I move from New Jersey to Colorado, and we've only been there for about 3 weeks, and I start to feel really super sick. I was pretty sure that I had that pig flu thing that everyone was talking about. I mean, I thought I was dying. I kept trying to throw up because I felt so nauseous and nothing would come out but bile. I did this off and on for a few days until I felt so sick, that I stopped eating. I became very lethargic, I didn't want any water, and I just kept trying to throw up that pig.
One night, I was the most sick I've ever been and my mom was so scared that she was crying, she stuck that horrible cold thermometer up my you know what, and people, I don't know how she did it but she carried me into the car in the middle of the night because I was so weak that I could barely walk. She kept crying the whole way to the emergency room asking me to please be OK. And I was trying really hard to be strong for her. My mom and I were both really scared because we didn't know any emergency veterinarians out in Colorado, and we had made really good friends with a lot of doctors back in NJ, so all of these strangers kind of freaked her out. They poked me and pushed on my belly and took black and white pictures of my insides with x-ray machines and hooked me up to all these bags of water and told my mom they'd call her with any news, but that the outlook was grim. A couple of hours later, I heard the doctor on the phone with my mom telling her that they had to operate on me, and that she should come in right away. I was so tired guys, I wasn't even scared. The last thing I remember is my mom crawling into the kennel run that I was in hugging me and crying and begging the doctors to do a good job, and I could tell she was trying to act brave for me, but it wasn't working. I know that she was freaked the heck out.
And then. . .I woke up. The momma was in the kennel run with me again, and we were both lying on the sheepskin, and as soon as I saw her, I gave her the biggest lick that I could with my super dry crinkly tongue because I was so happy that I felt so well. I didn't feel that pig in my stomach anymore so I know that I got rid of that pig flu.
As soon as the momma pulled herself together she went out to talk to the doctor that we both had a crush on since he saved my life (HEY! I'm neutered! I'm an equal opportunity lover! Don't judge until you've had your own testicles taken out!). I saw him show her what they took out of my intestines. He used the word "obstruction" and then said after he removed the object that he performed the "gastropexy" that my mom asked him to do. We were all looking at the the object that my mom was holding in her hand, trying to figure out what the heck it was and then she screamed "HOLY Shiitake mushrooms!(the words she used were really bad, but I don't like mushrooms, so that's the worst word I thought that I could type out for my viewing audience)" when we figured it out. It was almost unrecognizable because it was bouncing around in my stomach for a year until my gastric acid hardened it up enough so that it could start to move down to my intestines. It wasn't the pig I thought it was at all guys. It was the FREAKING chewy plastic drain hair catcher! I thought that I did the crime and served my time, but it came back to get me!
This is what it looked like ONE YEAR LATER: It was 6 inches! Wedged in my intestines!
If you look really closely at the outline of it in this photo, you can see how my mom finally figured out what it was, see the outline of the stupid little suction bubbles around the outside of it? (sorry, my mom and I kind of hate it now, especially since she calls it an impulse buy...she was never good at waiting in lines to pay for stuff at the cash register):
A few days later I was home, and I didn't even care that I had staples running down my belly from my chest to my groin. I felt SO GOOD! Sure, I looked like a show poodle because of the way they shaved me at the hospital to put all of those tubes in me, but I felt more like a Newfoundland dog now than I had in a very long time. Poodle cut or not.
I had a brush with death my friends, and now I live each day as though it could be my last. A few months later I earned my water dog rescue title (WD) and I make sure I go visit sick people in the hospital every week who are as scared as I was when I was all alone in my hospital bed. I also get lots of treats and am spoiled rotten by my people and I love it. Oh, the momma also learned that she can't trust me around anything that might be delicious if she's not at home, and since she spent my college fund on my surgery, I now have to go to my bedroom (XXL crate) when she's not home. But I kind of like it in there because my baby brother can't steal my toys.
A very special thank you to all the doctors and techs who took such great care of me at
