Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The 10 Stages of Wearing a Cone: An Essay By Murphy

Fresh off a grand total of TWENTY THREE days in a cone, elizabethan collar, cone of shame, etc etc. Murphy would like to share his learning and perspective of his life in a cone for the last few weeks:

 Step One: Disbelief
I can't believe she just put a cone on me - really?  Ha ha ha - very funny! You're a genius, you have thumbs. You took some pictures, you posted my humiliation on facebook. Now you can take it off OK? Ummm? Hello?

Step Two: Disability
Learning to navigate the world with a cone is hard...Getting stuck on the coffee table, can't go upstairs with the cone on. Walking into walls - more humiliation, shame.

Step Three: Depression
I simply cannot believe I am this abused. Woe is me. All I want to do is lick my incision. Just a few licks here and there. It itches, it hurts, I'm bored, all the cool kids lick their boo-boos. What? The cat wants to sleep ON my head INSIDE the cone? Could this possibly get any worse?

Step Four: Resignation
I can do anything about this stupid cone. I can't get it off, I can't lick my boo-boo.

Step Five: Acceptance
Hey so this isn't so bad. I can use the cone as a funnel to catch treats that I otherwise couldn't catch. I don't have to ride in my crate in the van, I get to keep my head in the front seat when we ride too! I'm like the figurehead on the bow of a mighty sailing ship. A'Hoy Matey!!!!

Step Six: Manipulation
Teller wants that woobie. I want that woobie. If I pick it up he might just take it away from me...but, if I COVER the woobie with my cone I get to keep the woobie and Teller can't steal it from me. Ha!

Step Seven:  Bargaining
I can also PRETEND that I have something really good under here to trick Teller out of his frozen yogurt. HA! Also, if I look really thirsty and pathetic I can get people to remove my cone for a minute - it's not a lot of time, but it's good for a lick or two.

Step Eight: Adaptation
If I move the stools away from the water bowl, and lean into the cabinet I can crush the cone into said cabinet, drink water AND prevent Teller from seeing what I'm doing.

Step Nine: Go on the offensive
Oh you don't like the cone jammed between your toes? Too bad.  You don't want me to knock over chairs, the trashcan or clear the coffee table with my cone? Too heckin' bad. You don't want me to run into your leg? Then get out of my way.

Step Ten: Sweet freedom, sweet sweet freedom.
The stitches are out, the leg is mostly healed...Freedom to romp in the yard, freedom to nap without a cone and permission to lick sparingly....

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