Fionn's 3 legged journey to beat cancer

My kids and their boyfriends were all here and there was a lot of cooking so I had a wonderful time! I put myself in charge of kitchen floor clean up and boy was I busy! And, I got so much attention and belly rubs I almost didn’t need presents. But, I did get presents and Santa really knows what I like. I like things that squeak. I feel it is my solemn duty to remove the thing that squeaks immediately. Sometimes it take me awhile, and this year, Santa brought me a stuffie with a BUNCH of squeakers in it. Boy do I have my work cut out. I also got a bone. I can tear those things apart too. Mom is always saying bad words because she ends up stepping on bits of bone. My advice? Wear shoes. Here’s a video of me and my new stuffie. And pictures too!

My bed is for toy and bones storage. I never sleep in it. Never.

I’ve been feeling a bit tired for about a week. I’ve tuckered out on some walks lately and mom has to wait until I feel like I can make it home. I just like hanging out outside anyway.

And a good roll is my favorite thing of course.

Mom says it could be the chemo doing something to my blood. I have to get it checked in a few days because I’m supposed to go back the the big vet school for more chemo this week. I have to keep an eye on those squirrels so my blood better be ok!

I would also like to report some abuse I received at the hands of my mom with one of the kids in collusion. Mom says the hair on my feet makes it too slippery for me on the floors so she has to trim it. It tickles and I don’t like it and she’s always upset at me. She says my wiggling makes her clip job look bad. Don’t much care. THIS time, she ALSO added the indignity of trimming my butt hair. Seriously, I have long, lustrous butt hair like any good golden should. What’s the deal? She calls it my “hair pants” and they need to be chopped. Well, I stood for that for about a minute and then sat down and refused to move. Try trimming my butt while I’m sitting on it why don’t you? Hah! You CAN’T. Mom gave up and says I look ridiculous and if the people at the vet’s office laugh at me because I’m all lopsided back there, it’s MY fault. Still don’t care. I’ll still get treats.