A Drooping Daisy

Yesterday, Daisy had surgery to remove her girl parts. This was required by her breeder and desired by us. At the same time, the vet inserted a microchip in case she gets lost.

Some dogs--sensible dogs--will leave their surgical wounds alone. Daisy, as we have irrefutably established, is not sensible. She wants desperately to lick her wound and would no doubt chew out her stitches, thus creating a risk for infection, bleeding, and expensive vet bills.

Thus, she wears the Cone of Shame.

She stood for about ten minutes in the above position, not moving an inch, just drooping with sadness and humiliation. It's pitiful. Tragic.

And then she looked up. And I said, "Come in, Tokyo!"  Because I am heartless and cruel.

When she got no sympathy from us, she dropped her head again and slowly tried to back out of the satellite dish. When she hit the front door with her butt, she drooped there for a while.

She got her revenge last night. Her sleeping crate in our bedroom is too small to accommodate the cone, so she slept in her giant wire crate in the dining room. Since George was still sick, I slept downstairs with Daisy. She kept waking me up by banging the cone against the wire sides of the crate and sliding it around the plastic floor. She was doing it on purpose. I just know it.

Ten days. Ten LONG days, folks.