"I do not like the cone of shame."
"...*cracklepssshhkkk*...Houston...Houston...we have a collar...."
Poor kid got her lady parts snipped on Tuesday.
The Boyo and I may have been laughing a great deal at her expense since then.
She can’t figure out how to keep her head up when she’s navigating stairs,
so she keeps running into them like a confused Roomba;
when we take her outside in the rain, it fills the cone like a traveling aquarium–
the more disconcerted she gets,
the harder we laugh.
I tried to tell Nami that Lady Gaga wishes she had thought to wear a plastic cone
to the Grammys instead of that tired ol’ egg trope,
but I don’t think she cared.
Not even when I offered to Bedazzle it.
I am an AWESOME dog owner, y’all.
