I don’t have much of value to say today. Work has been blindingly busy so far this week and I think the chronic stress has robbed me of my ability to be clever. I did discover, however, that fatigue is nothing a little vodka won’t fix. Cheers!
So, while I may not have my usual entertaining banter with which to amuse you, I do have a brief story and a picture. As I’m sure you know, Doc is sporting a fancy corona of milky white plastic around his head these days. Some of you might be wondering how well this satellite dish has been faring since being clamped to my dog’s neck.
Not so well, as you can almost tell from this picture. He cracked it on Sunday while chasing a ball so, rather than spend an additional $20 to buy a new one, Wes fixed it with duct tape. The tape bothered Doc, however, who began laboring under the impression that there was something constantly in his blind spot. Tonight, things came to a head when we let him out of his crate to discover that he had chewed the duct tape off and ripped his cone almost in two.
Seeing as neither one of us wanted to drive to Petco to buy a new cone, especially considering that Doc’s staples will be removed on Friday, we did what any sensible puppy-parents would do: we cut off the flapping nearly-severed part and now our puppy has a sun-roof. He’s the beater old convertible with duct tape patches on the soft-top of the canine world.