I got home last night to this face:
Someone got fixed yesterday. . . and he’s not a happy camper right now. Notice his cone? The one he’s figured out he can slip off? Ya, that’s pretty much his evil enemy right now. But I can’t blame the poor guy. I would hate to walk around with a cone on my head-preventing me from itching and sleeping comfortably and just creating misery. I can’t figure out what’s worse- the fact that he can’t exercise much the next 3 days, has to sport the cone for 4 more days, or the fact that he can’t get a bath for another 10 days. It all adds up to one sad puppy.