I haven't been in the truck since early summer because of the weather and the air-conditioning. So when Mom said, "Daisy, let's go!" I came running. I smacked into everything on the way out--this cone is really a pain in the tail-- but the truck! Oh, the truck! I love the truck. We drove to … Continue reading Truck Ride!
I am dozing on the couch. I feel better today--that medicine Mom has been giving me has helped a lot. My leg isn't quite as swollen. But the lump is still draining and stinking. Mom is sitting on her computer. I know when she's like this and her fingers aren't making much noise, that she's … Continue reading Mom Can’t Sleep
I'm still wearing the cone... my Mom won. Or maybe my belly did. Dinner convinced me off the couch today, and I ran into every piece of furniture with this stupid thing to get to it. I went outside, and my brothers and sisters all smelled the thing on my head. We all came back … Continue reading Ouch!
Mom took a kitty to the vet and came home with a clear plastic...thing. She called me over to change my diaper. My shirt is soaked, and the diaper stinks, and mom says there are now three holes draining. She tells me that I've made it worse with all my licking, and unfortunately, I have … Continue reading Cone of Shame
That shirt was really, really, annoying. It made my tongue sore and wore me out trying to lick through it to get to my puncture wound. So Mom got smarter. She took it off and cleaned up the wound and wrapped it in a diaper. Then she put the shirt back on. I noticed though, … Continue reading Now You’ve Done it Daisy…
Mom used to dress up her little dogs when she was a girl. Babydoll clothes, booties, and even strollers. I'm kinda glad I didn't know her back then. This bandage thing was really bugging me today, so I tore it off. To make the puncture feel better, I gave it quite a washing with my … Continue reading The Shirt
My brothers and sisters can really be pains sometimes. This time, it all started with a skunk. My youngest brother Diesel occasionally jumps the fence. It's six foot tall, and he is 27 inches tall, and he scales it like he's jumping a small rock. Then he goes and inspects the chickens (blech!) and the … Continue reading Injury
Mom talked to me, and to the boys, about three-legged dogs a lot. What she talked about most was that dogs aren't attached to their legs--not like humans. And, really, we aren't. Look at your dog. Go ahead. Take a long hard look. Your dog, like me, wants you to be happy. Your dog wants … Continue reading Dogs are Really Three-Legged
I stayed on my diet and Mom did all she could to keep my stress levels down. We were in the hot part of summer now, and I didn't get to go in the truck as often because the air-conditioning went out. So I stayed in the house a lot and slept on my couch, … Continue reading Worries
When Mom said my diet would change, I didn't really think much about it. I got my food daily, I wasn't hungry, and that's all that mattered. Then, the next day, she handed me my bowl. It smelled funny. Like rotten apples. "Eat it, Daisy. It's just a little vinegar," she said. Not. Happening. That … Continue reading The Diet