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BYRON

FULL NAME BYRON BAE
NICKNAMES BY-BY, BY-RON!!!!! (essentially byron but 10 octaves higher, saved for days when i'm uhmmm... not so well behaved 😅)
DATE OF BIRTH 1 APRIL 2017
INSTAGRAM @OURDOGGOJOURNEY
ADOPTED FROM SOSD SINGAPORE
PERSONALITY

GOODEST BOI waits for his turn, gladly shares treats, water & humans
TOLERATES HUGS even though he doesn't particularly love them
LOVES pats and scratches
PLAY CATALYST loves getting other dogs in the mood for play
BEST BIG BRO always gives in to his bratty lil' sis and lets her get away with everything including stealing treats from his mouth
SUPER FOOD MOTIVATED if the food is to his taste, if not, be prepared for him to walk away
NOT A FIGHTER sustained tiny punctures from a chihuahua and just looked to the humans for instructions
SITUATIONALLY DEFENSIVE won't start fights but will (try to 🤣) retaliate if attacked or senses that loved ones are in danger

ANTICS FOOD CRITIC will spit if food is not to his liking
HEAD RUBBER all over 2 legged creatures for scratchies
HEALTH ALLERGIES both food & environmental - causing redness, itch and lil' bumps all over
SUPPLEMENTS SULFURZYME
GREEN SLUSH
GREEN LIPPED MUSSELDS
BONE BROTH
PROBIOTICS
COCONUT OIL
KRILL/OMEGA 3 OIL
ROSEHIP POWDER
GOLDEN PASTE
FAVOURITE TOYS ALL toys are favourite toys
FAVOURITE TREATS anything 100% meat!

Hello World!

My name is Byron Bae and I was named after Australia's Byron Bay. A lot of people mispronounce my name. It's BYE-REN. Like 白人, not Bryan, Bryon, Brian or Brain (although sometimes I eat 🧠 but we'll get to that later). Lemme tell you a secret - if you mispronounce my name but give me treats, we can still be pals.

When I was previously known as Rudy (hoomans changed my name for fear that I’d become rude one day, how ridiculous!), I jumped from house to house and even had an adopter who signed adoption papers but gave me up later, saying that I shed too much, cost too much and chewed up furniture. At that time, my current slaves (also known as my pawrents) had just moved into their new home and were looking to foster a dog. They were deciding between another dog and I and were slated to visit us both but the person in charge of the other dog was overseas so they decided to see me first. The moment they saw me in a playpen at 10 months old and heard from the potential adopters how they vacuumed me before meal times, they made the immediate decision to foster me (although, to be honest, they were very worried about their new furniture)!

Fostering me wasn't easy. You wouldn't believe it now, but I've been the only dog who has pulled mama on walks till she fell. I had food aggression and was very aloof to humans; so much so that they had to beg for my attention then 😂. Worse still, I had allergies, intolerances and scratched and bit myself bloody. The slaves were told that I had a chicken allergy, so they bought fish, lamb, beef, turkey, duck, etc. for me to try, and from different brands too! Nothing worked and it got so bad that at one point, there were 20 bags of kibble at home, I kid you not. Eventually, they gave away all treats that weren't single ingredient and did a total revamp on my stash. Chemical floor cleaners were swapped for non-toxic ones, but I was still scratching.

It was around this period that I was slated to attend an adoption drive. By now, I had trained the slaves well! I made them give me treats and praises every time they called and I would come running to perform tricks. I also made them reward me with a huge chew whenever we had loose leash walks! I was opening up to them more, and each day, the distance between us lessened.

By this point, dada couldn't let me go - I had him successfully wrapped him around my little paws! 😂 After many many rounds of discussion, lots of puppy eyes from me, mama agreed to adopt me too! But she didn't tell him immediately. Instead, she contacted my rehomer and asked if she could bring the adoption papers to us on dada's birthday! And the rest as you hoomans say, is history. Dada now shares his birthday with my adoptaversary although it's arguable that it's my birthday as well, seeing as how I became a new dog that very day, with a ton of adventures and friends to play with!

Back to my food story! After I was adopted, the slaves considered other diets for me because honestly, what processed kibble can beat fresh food? Coincidentally, they caught up with a friend who had 25 years of experience feeding raw diets to his dogs and this bode well with my slaves because mama would never (unless in special circumstances) feed a cooked food diet since it's harder to balance (in her opinion) and she's lazy to prep, cook and wash up.

So I started out on my raw journey after a lot of research on the slaves' part. I enjoyed it a lot but I developed a really bad reaction so our happiness was short lived and I was back to kibble + a commercial cooked roll diet. I scratched less on kangaroo kibble but I also stopped being interested in meals, so my pawrents added a cooked roll to whet my appetite. What they regretted was that they didn’t read the ingredients first and when they finally did, they realised that salt was in it. Dogs get sodium naturally from food, so we DON'T NEED SALT at all. Cooked rolls are also sold at vets but it's such a common misconception that foods promoted by obedience schools or vets are superior so please don’t make the same mistake my pawrents did!

One day, whilst I was still on the kibble + cooked roll diet, mama got sick. Dada had to go out, so he thawed a piece of chicken breast for her to cook porridge with later. To her horror, it disappeared! She looked high and low for it and even called dada to confirm that it was actually in the bowl that he said it was. Welllllll... needless to say, I ate it all muahahahahahahaha! Mama panicked and prepared for my thighs to get red, start itching and scratching myself silly but guess what?! Nothing happened. Please bear in mind that we’re lucky because even though I’m allergic to a bunch of stuff, reactions are quick to come and quick to leave. It usually doesn’t last the night.

The next day, she was still sick and dada thought he could outsmart me. He pushed the bowl all the way in on the countertop, filled it to the brim with water and prepared 2 pieces of chicken breasts for mama. When she came home, the bowl was on the floor, she had to clean up and both chicken breasts were gone. Guess what?! NO REACTION AGAIN. The slaves were so surprised! They decided to continue testing and realised that I could actually eat raw chicken! However, the fats (e.g. on the thighs) would cause a reaction. When that’s removed, I can actually eat chicken! Just the other day, I had my first taste of black chicken too and yup! No allergic reaction.

After experimenting, we realised that I can also eat lean duck, turkey, pork, lamb and beef. I can still eat venison and kangaroo and life couldn’t be better. I absolutely love meal times and am so glad that I’m on a PMR (prey model raw) diet. Oh wait, I have environmental allergies as well and they’re even worse than food allergies. The slaves have to brush my fur after every walk to get all pollen off my body. With a great diet, regular brushing and the right supplements (thank you sulfurzyme), I’ve stopped scratching, biting, bleeding and can finally focus on being a dog!

I now go out at least 5 times a week, I love the beach, I learnt that swimming isn’t so bad, I love getting muddy and dirty, I love playing with my fur friends, I love marking trees, I love treats and chews, and above all, I love my pawrents.

Mama and dada also say that I’m the goodest boi ever. But I’m sure all your pawrents say the same, and none of them are wrong.

Earlier, I spoke about how I was transferred from house to house. With my pawrents (and Sparkles), I found a home. My furever home, where it didn’t matter that I was the last to be adopted, where I learnt that it’s okay to make mistakes, where I learnt right from wrong, where I learnt how to be a good host to fostered dogs and dogs who come over to play, where I learnt to share my food, where I learnt how to walk properly, where I learnt to trust that my pawrents will always be there for me no matter what, and where I learnt to gain their trust, that I will always return to them no matter what. I am home.

FYI, I never destroyed any furniture at home, never marked indoors and I instinctively know which toys I am allowed to destroy (i.e. my own) and which I'm not (i.e. the slaves' toys). I've also never started fights but I will protect my slaves if I don't like a certain dog's aura. I mean, who can blame me? What are you gonna do if my slaves get injured? Prep my food, feed me and bring me on excursions? Yep, didn't think so.

 

Smell ya later,

Byron

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