If there is one thing that I distinctly dislike my dog for it’s this: wearing a cone. He is such a nightmare. He’s not exactly the smallest, daintiest of creatures at the best of times, but when he’s coned up?
My goodness, it’s mayhem and madness and I can clearly imagine how my knees are going to feel when I hit old age, as they’re bashed and bruised and plum-tired out from the exertion of standing-up.
Okay, so we need to share some sympathy for him for having a cone in the first place.
Well, no. He had a small cut in his leg, gained somewhere on a run on a Saturday morning.
It was fine and dandy, scabbing for a couple of days and then the minute I went to work on the Monday, he decided to try and gnaw his leg off, almost like he was at a Tudor feast.
I couldn’t believe it when I came home and saw what his tasty snacking had done. I don’t think he could either when he then had to suffer the joy of being stapled back together – and put in a cone of doom.
Again he was healing nicely and didn’t have to have his cone on all the time if I was home, but obviously he self-operated and removed one of his staples in the time it took me to take an empty coffee cup from the living room to the kitchen, and I don’t live in a mansion by any stretch of the imagination. So that put us into week three of cone hell.
We’ve been in this leg-bashing situation before when he had his testicles sorted. That time he went through one cone a day and the expense stretched and stretched.
He was smarter back then and worked out where to wedge his head to get maximum traction as he fought back.
Or maybe cones have improved in the last seven years and they’re made of sturdier stuff?
We only went through two in this situation, but boy were they leg-killers as he careened around the house making up for the limited exercise he was allowed.
Next time I’m going to ask for his leg to be plastered.
At least that’d give us – surely – some peace.
I could go stargazing – if I can manage to stay awake
How are the streetlights going off in the middle of the night working for you?
I haven’t noticed the energy/cost-saving measures in Gosport given as they don’t kick in until 1am, and that is way past my bedtime. After all, once you hit your mid-40s you also hit going to bed at 10pm, right?
But my son, who was wandering home, was quite startled by the event. I think it’s a great idea. Years ago I read an article about how darkness made drivers much more careful – though there are far less people around obviously.
And given that there is usually so much light pollution, perhaps if I can stay up late one night I’ll be able to see the stars?
Should town planners be looking back, to the future?
I heard a really interesting radio show recently about regenerating town and city centres – taking the direct opposite approach to the out of-town behemoths which have blighted many a smaller centre.
In a town centre in Altrincham, market traders were invited to take microspaces in the old market hall. By all accounts the effect has been stupendous.
Although the journey wasn’t easy, the market has created 150 jobs and draws in thousands of visitors, which has created a café culture, which has given the town a buzz and so on and so forth. So micro/unique is the way forward. Is anyone surprised? Not me, we’ve come full circle. If only all towns were so backward thinking