Sunday, August 01, 2021



Not what I wanted


Get this cone away


You'll pay once you are alone

I knew something was up last week when Toast and Bleeder took me to the vet and they poked, prodded, took my blood and did all manner of why are you touching me there things.

We got to go in together, which was weird, normally they sit in my car and relax after they hand me off to some stranger who does things I don't want them to do. We sat in the waiting room, and frankly I was not a fan of this. Some huge old lab yelled at me continuously. I'm not on your lawn, sir, and I'm not wearing pants so I'm not sure how you expect me to pull them up. There was some other yappy type dog that we were told over and over was "friendly", but Toast and Bleeder insisted its owner reel in that flexie leash and keep it on its side of the clinic. the owner finally did when she bared her battle scarred arms to the owner. I simply sat and took in this very loud chaos. There were some issues with standing on the scale because I was very distracted.

The vet (who I kissed) pronounced that I was perfectly healthy and then took my blood. Rude. Afterwards I was allowed to smell the clinic pee-mail spot and then we went home.

Fast forward to a week later and I'm denied breakfast (the horror) and all treats (WHAT THE FLUFF), and once again, taken to the clinic and escorted inside where a dinosaur tried to kill me. Bleeder says it was a german shepherd, but still, it was not friendly, so half of the staff and Toast and Bleeder moved me to safety while the slathering hell beast was escorted outside. I'm sensing a pattern with this place and I would prefer never going back.

I assumed it would be the usual go into a room, poke, prod, go home for breakfast thing, but noooo. Bleeder gave some stranger my leash, waved toodaloo and they LEFT ME.

After that, everything is a blur, but I woke up wearing this HUGE plastic cone thing on my head, in a cage, and my stomach hurt. Later it was explained that I was spayed. Would have been nice information before this whole thing, so I'll speak to them about timing, and notifications. They shaved my belly fluff. THEY SHAVED MY BELL FLUFF!!!

I have to admit, I was feeling no pain on the way out of the clinic. The cone thing was pretty heavy, so I may have face planted it a few times to where Toast had to walk beside me and hold it up. I refused to pee, so we went home. Bleeder in the back seat with me as always, I kept looking up at her and slashing her face with the cone... oh darn, so sorry, sucks to be you. One nice part of the cone is that I could point my face at the air conditioning duct and all of the cold air washed into it.

Toast carried me upstairs where they transferred the big plastic cone to a more comfortable pillow thing. I still hate it, and I hate the people I live with.

Apparently for the next 10 days I can't jump up and down on things, I can't skitter, I can't play, I can't run through the yard and chase balls, I can't dash to the fence line, stir up the yappy neighbor dogs and skitter away gleefully, I can't jump on the couch or bed, I'm supposed to walk calmly down the stairs... SERIOUSLY?  I can't counter surf, or play on slippery surfaces. I'm also not supposed to rip out the sutures holding me together. So many rules... so many. This is such crap.

I mean, come on.... look at this:

I could easily use the tasty coffee table as a launch pad, but it does hurt when I leap up on things that I'm not supposed to leap on (and yes, I've been leaping). Thanks to some pain relievers, I feel perfectly fine... which is why they are being withheld until such time that I clearly need them. Yesterday I was leaping and jumping and snapping with glee because I felt so well... I even got to go downstairs (leashed) and out into the yard (leashed) and tried to do what Bleeder claimed are "silly things" so my restrictions are a bit more harsh now. I know it's all for my health and safety, but huskies gonna husky.

My day is usually spent trying to find a comfortable position:

Kinda like the built in pillow

Beds are difficult

When I get too rambunctious, this happens.


One of the upsides is that I did get a new comfy Lazy-Boy bed

But seriously, it's day 2 with 8 more days of this to go and I'm seriously over this. I only wish I had opposable thumbs so that I could grasp sharp objects, pop this balloon and then get my way.


* My apologies to the rock group The Go-Go's for use of their song "Vacation"


  1. In all of our years of cautions and calendar watching, I don't think we ever made it 10 days. At some point, you just surrender.

  2. Such indignities you have suffered, that’s going to cost them.