Poor Dog

Gretchen wouldn’t stop licking her cut, so she got a cone.

Gretchen is awful with cones. She never figures out her head is a lot bigger than it used to be and she now needs to accommodate the new size, so she spends her time in the cone crashing into door jams, chairs, cabinets, furniture, and even ripping receptacle covers off the wall.

Usually I can ignore all this.

Usually? What’s usual about my dog wearing a cone? Granted this is only her second time (first was when she was spayed), but I get the impression she’ll need one again.

Anyway usually I can ignore all the destruction and crashing, but not now that I have a baby I’m trying to get to sleep. Just as Abigail would finally decide sleep was ok and close her little eyes, Gretchen would come crashing down the hall startling Abigail awake.

Enough of that crap. There’s got to be another way.

It’s called the Comfy Cone.

It’s a nylon covered piece of rigid foam and it’s wonderful. It doesn’t make anywhere near the noise the plastic cones do, nor all the marks on the walls and furniture.

Now we hope she doesn’t really need it again, but if she does no worries.

– b