The clouds parted- I picked up the pooch. He was told to wear this horrid cone all stiff and plastic!
Surely we can do better...
So I piled him all bundled up in the car again and off we went to search for something mo bettah.
An inflatable collar so that he won't tear out his stitches...He is fairly out of it. and when he is not sleeping he is whining. It is past my bedtime but there you go...The pooch gets to be babied until all is well. I am his thrall.Yes sir, massa sir.