It's a little cruel to laugh, because The Dog is really not doing so well. Since the day I took her back from The Ex in June, she's had multiple trips to the vet, been on seven different types of medication, gained weight and lost weight, improved some and regressed some.
She is now seeing a doggie dermatologist who has a good idea of the underlying cause of the issue (a combination of allergies, skin disease, and spinal cord degeneration), but we can't really treat that until we address the more acute problems (severe staph infection and malnutrition brought on by years of neglect).
But every little bit of progress we make is undermined by her incessant chewing at herself. She's been in a cone for the better part of four months, but her extra long snout still allows her to awkwardly worry at her sores. While the cone hasn't been a particularly effective chew deterrent, it has made it difficult for her to eat and has scraped the hell out of my walls and furniture. And so we found this alternative:
It's an inflatable ring that attaches to her collar to limit mobility... and also acts as a flotation device in the event of a water landing.
The dog, of course, is mortified. Shortly after we first put it on her she disappeared and The Man found her sitting dejectedly amongst the boxes of Christmas decorations in the far reaches of our cluttered basement.
Trust me. It's nearly impossible to not laugh at her.
So. Who wants to go sailing?
The dog whisperer strikes again
8 hours ago