Is there anything sadder than a dog with a cone head? Oh yeah, it’s a 3-legged dog with a cone head.
It’s been quite a weekend with my little patient. She is finally getting use to her torture collar but it’s taken a bit. When I went to pick her up on Thursday I was sitting in the waiting room and I heard this odd noise coming down the hall — it was Freckles with her head down sniffing, as usual, but now when she sniffs you hear the sound of plastic scraping on the floor.
Everything was a challenge at first — laying down, eating, drinking and even getting into the proper stance to go potty. That was me not Freckles. Ha, ha, ha — I kid (or do I?). But now she pretty much has it figured out except for going through doors. If her cone hits the wall next to the door she stands there like she is now stuck and can’t get through the door. It takes her a couple of tries to figure out to move to the left or the right and she can get through the door. She is such a cute dog but if she was a Golden Girl she would definitely be Rose Nyland.
I hate leaving her to go to work, but I think she’s going to be okay. I’m the one that will be a mess.