My ivery livery

Dad is always playing with my cheeby choobies, my idgy widgeys, my ibby bibbys, my whidgey wodjeys ... When he says that he's talking about my big lips, and he's usually playing with them, hiding cookies in them, brushing my teeth, and other fun things.

However, now something may be wrong with my ivery livery -- when the vet was doing my bloodwork, it came back that I have a very high count for the liver test. Dad and Mom are upset, but I get retested in a few weeks. Please keep me in your doggie dreams -- make some room for me in all of those bones, dog parks, and poopin! I'll try and keep you updated when the test comes back again!

As it turns out, my poop, pee, heartworm, and other blood chemistry was all good. Ha ha ... Mom still had to catch it.

The most misunderstood dogs in America

Dad read this in the paper a few weeks ago. It says that I'm a misunderstood dog -- funny, because I talk now and then and no one seems to know exactly what I'm saying. Oh well ... the article talks about how pit bulls, like me, are too often deemed dangerous and sometimes fall into the wrong hands. So read up, and take home my brother or sister!
Article

Dogs and More Dogs

Mom and I are watching Dogs and More Dogs on PBS. It's all about dogs, like me -- I'm a dog. It's about DNA, dog history and development ... not much about stinking, that's what I like best. And I don't know what DNA stands for ... maybe "dogs not allowed," a phrase I hate to hear!

Pet Diaries

My diary for most days: up at 4 or 5 to eat my breakfast, which is never enough. Mom and Dad let me in their bed for a bit so they can warm up and wake up. Then they get up, and eat their breakfast -- I wonder what is in their bowls and wonder about that white liquid they pour on ...

Sometimes when Mom is making lunch I get some green pepper, tomato, or whatever. Mmmmmm veggies! Then I get my bone with peanut butter -- my PB bone -- and get to sleep and chew and rip my blanket for 9 hours or so. Mom and Dad return, we go out and I poop and hit the beach or the dog park. Then I eat dinner, snuggle on the couch, and go to bed for the night after lots of walks and fun playtimes.

This diary is a funny collection from another dog. I totally understand him. The other is from a cat, I don't quite know what is going on.

8am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite
10am - Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!
11am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
Noon - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
1pm - Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!
3pm - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
4pm - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5pm - Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!
7pm - Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
9pm - Oh Boy! Sleeping in master's bed! My favorite!

As seen in a cat's diary:

Day 183 of my captivity...
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They
dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild
satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while
they were walking almost succeeded -- must try this at the top of the
stairs.? In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I
once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair -- must try
this on their bed.

Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to
make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into
their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little
cat I was. Hmmm, not working according to plan.

There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in
solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell
the food. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY
power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my
advantage.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog
is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is
obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an
informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my
every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is
assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

Is he a pit?

Lots of people ask me and my Mom and my Dad, when we're walking on the street, if I'm a pit. "Is he a pit?" "Isheapit?" We'll, I don't know. I'm stinky, I'm cute, I have prick ears, a brindle coat, three white paws, strong muscles, and I like to chew. Mom and Dad don't know if I am a pit or not, but they know that I am cute and snuggly and sometimes I woof, but not too much. Basenjis don't bark, so maybe I am part Basenji.

Oh well, it's good to be a stinky pit.

Welcome to my new blog!

Hi everyone! My name is Devo and I am a stinky pit. Actually I'm a bit of a mix between American Staffordshire Terrier and Basenji, with a touch of crazy mixed in!

Some people think I'm a whippet. Do you know why? When I was found wandering in the woods, I was very skinny and had not eaten for a long time. I was just skin and bones, like a whippet. At the doggie shelter where I was rescued, they named me Devo, after the band and the song "Whip It!"

However, my new family has fed me lots and lots of kibble and meaty food, and now I am big and strong. At the doggie hospital after I was rescued, I was only 28 lbs. When my owners brought me home, I had made it up to 35 lbs. Now that I'm in a good home and eating well, I'm up to 44 lbs! And I'm big and strong with lots of muscles.

Please enjoy my new site -- I have a lot to share with you, including pictures, stories, tips on dogs, links to shelters, reviews of items that I use, and more. I'll even show you how I run, swim, sail, and wrestle with other doggies.