I figure this is good practice for having a teenager.

The Peekapoo is mad at me. Noticing her gnawing at her stomach yesterday, we decided to take her to the vet to have the site of the incision from her spay checked out (and I left work early to do that for you, missy!) It turns out there may be an infection at the spot and she needs both antibiotics taken orally (thank goodness for peanut butter! I could feed her anything as long as it was covered in peanut butter!) and an ointment that has to be applied to her belly.
That’s where the fun began. I think the ointment must make the spot either itch or burn and she doesn’t like it at all. Enter the newest fashion accessory for all hip, sick dogs… the lampshade collar. Our little lady is sporting the latest in plastic neckwear… at least for as long as I can take her sad stare in my direction before I crack my resolve and remove it.
I can only imagine what poor Molly is thinking when put her into this contraption. I think she must feel like she’s been placed in a small plastic room because that’s all she can see out of her peripheral vision. To escape the room, she either makes a mad dash to get out of it… or sits as still as possible until I arrive to release her from it.
Both options are of kind of disconcerting. It breaks my heart to have her run away from me as fast as her furry legs will carry. It’s also kind of eerie to have her stand next to me on the couch for 20 minutes and not move a muscle. And I do feel a little guilty for laughing every time she whacks the shade on the doorjamb.
It’s going to be an interesting time in our house for the next week or so. Of course I took photos of Molly looking forlorn in her new hat, but they haven’t been developed yet. I think I’ll cut her a little slack and post one of the ones from after her recent haircut. Just imagine this puss glaring at you from inside a giant plastic lampshade.