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Tiny King Needs a Kingdom
A message from the King.
Hola friends and family. My name is El Rey. My foster mother calls me Prince PeePee Pants. I am a gorgeous, soft, rare silver blue, only 3 lbs, 13 years young , give the best kisses and have the smelliest breath on the planet. I was in the animal shelter when TXCR came to rescue me before my beheading. My traitor of a blasphemous family dumped me on a roadside. My foster mom thinks I was used for breeding and then tossed out like yesterdays garbage. After a good nights rest, some rad cuddles, great food and lots of love, I had to go to the vet. I was really afraid. I was afraid to be abandoned again and lets be honest, even Kings do not like needles. I stayed strong through several tests, each test being bad news and contributing to the next test. This is what the doc had to say.
A message from the almighty Dr. K
El Rey is a mess. Both patellas and hocks are abnormal. Heart-worm positive. Prostate looks a little enlarged and he is constipated. His mandible is broken along the middle symphysis as well as between the premolars molars on both sides. That is a bad deal and almost impossible to fix. Maybe a dentist or surgeon could try an external fixture, but there is hardly any bone there to do anything with. He is also chryptorchid. With the water intake and prostate I want to test him for possible infection/prostatitis.
Back to the King:
Can you believe she called me a mess...geesh the audacity of some human folks. So, as you may be able to tell, I am very full of myself and think of myself as quite the romeo. How am I supposed to live up to King status when I am on a peasants budget with an 80 year old's body. It appears I have lived in this craptastic body long enough. Time for a change! I would like to live the rest of my, hopefully immortal life, in less pain, without parasites, without infected teeth, with a fixed jaw, without messed up limbs, and preferably with a healthy pooper if ya know what I mean.
My foster mother has informed me that you are a very loyal Kingdom of doggie lovers. Maybe you are able to get me back in tip top shape so I may rule the world once again. Okay Okay....the only thing I rule these days are these belly bands, but hey, a King can dream.
Hola friends and family. My name is El Rey. My foster mother calls me Prince PeePee Pants. I am a gorgeous, soft, rare silver blue, only 3 lbs, 13 years young , give the best kisses and have the smelliest breath on the planet. I was in the animal shelter when TXCR came to rescue me before my beheading. My traitor of a blasphemous family dumped me on a roadside. My foster mom thinks I was used for breeding and then tossed out like yesterdays garbage. After a good nights rest, some rad cuddles, great food and lots of love, I had to go to the vet. I was really afraid. I was afraid to be abandoned again and lets be honest, even Kings do not like needles. I stayed strong through several tests, each test being bad news and contributing to the next test. This is what the doc had to say.
A message from the almighty Dr. K
El Rey is a mess. Both patellas and hocks are abnormal. Heart-worm positive. Prostate looks a little enlarged and he is constipated. His mandible is broken along the middle symphysis as well as between the premolars molars on both sides. That is a bad deal and almost impossible to fix. Maybe a dentist or surgeon could try an external fixture, but there is hardly any bone there to do anything with. He is also chryptorchid. With the water intake and prostate I want to test him for possible infection/prostatitis.
Back to the King:
Can you believe she called me a mess...geesh the audacity of some human folks. So, as you may be able to tell, I am very full of myself and think of myself as quite the romeo. How am I supposed to live up to King status when I am on a peasants budget with an 80 year old's body. It appears I have lived in this craptastic body long enough. Time for a change! I would like to live the rest of my, hopefully immortal life, in less pain, without parasites, without infected teeth, with a fixed jaw, without messed up limbs, and preferably with a healthy pooper if ya know what I mean.
My foster mother has informed me that you are a very loyal Kingdom of doggie lovers. Maybe you are able to get me back in tip top shape so I may rule the world once again. Okay Okay....the only thing I rule these days are these belly bands, but hey, a King can dream.
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