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mood |
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annoyed and amused, both |
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Okay. So, I pick Zwei up from the vet. She's groggy as hell, poor thing. Looks like I felt this morning at 7:30am, to the tenth power. Poor puppy. Bring her home, put her on the couch, and she sleeps like the dead for about four hours straight. Not a twitch.
When she finally wakes up and shows signs of life, she also shows signs of interest (read: licking) in her stitches. So, Elizabethan collar time.
So we thought.
Okay. Elizabethan collars. They're those incredibly goofy looking funnel-cone collars that you put on a dog or cat to prevent them from licking/chewing at a wound. Everybody got that picture in their heads? Good.
Now, picture a corgi. They're built much like Daschunds: low and long. Corgis' legs are disproportionately short when compared to the size of their necks (or pretty much anything else, really). Is anyone seeing a problem yet? If not, I'll elaborate.
The collar that fits her neck size is of a too-large diameter to be supported by her body. The bottom of it, when she tries to take a step forward, catches on the floor--whether it be linoleum or carpet--and sticks. Any further forward movement, and her head is forced down into the floor while her feet hit the collar.
In other words, she can't walk with it on. Now, paint a look of incredible disbelief and disgust on Zwei's face, and you have a pretty amusing picture.
At least, it's amusing for about 2.5 seconds. That's when I realized that I cannot leave her alone until she's healed. So. Either work lets me bring her in with me tomorrow, or I have to stay home with her. I absolutely will not risk her injuring herself. Over the weekend, Justin will be here. It'll just be tomorrow. So, we'll see what happens when my supervisor calls me back.
Yes, yes, you can commence with the Stumpy jokes now. :P
~jess out
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