Ewe Bee U

Cheer Up!  At least you’re not living your life inside of a plastic cone!

A little over a week ago, just when I thought things were starting to look up with signs of spring arriving, my life took a sharp turn for the worse.  My mom discovered the infected wound behind my ear that had been festering for a few days after my annoying two year old brother gave me an inadvertent bite during one of our daily tussles.  Off to the doctor we went – I happily complied, always up for an outing in the car, completely unaware of the bad luck that was about to befall me.

Wow!  Now don’t I look like the idiot?  The vet pulled a fast one, tricked me with some treats and the next thing I know, I wake up and walk out of there with a clear plastic cone strapped around my neck.  The vet techs and other people and pets waiting in the lobby just smiled and snickered – and then laughed out loud when the edge of the cone caught the corner of the door frame as I attempted to trot out the exit – yanking my head and neck around in a sudden and surprising change of direction.  WTF?  Who in the world thought up this cruel joke?

Maya and Zulu don’t even know what to make of me when I arrive home.  I thought Zulu was going to be my ally and partner in crime and rip this cone off and shred it like a chew toy – but he just looks at me with wary suspicion and keeps a safe distance – unsure of whether this cone that I have somehow caught, might be contagious.  After crashing into several doors and all of the walls, I decide to just stand still in the center of the kitchen.  Insanity has apparently taken up residence and I need to figure out this new situation.   What species in the world would wrap plastic cones “of protection” around other animals?  Oh yeah, humans.  Humans would.  Is this a permanent condition?  Dogs have no sense of time – so I have to assume that it is.  Until this cone of shame, I never knew how free and unencumbered my life was.  I took it all for granted.

I now live in an echo chamber.  I hear my name called – but it spins in a vortex around my head and I have no idea of the direction I should look.  My food is blocked behind a thin, foggy veil of plastic.  I lean down and can see it – even smell it – but can’t seem to get my mouth into the bowl, and instead find myself pushing the dish with the front edge of plastic across the patio stones as Maya and Zulu contentedly gobble their kibble.  I finally learn to get the entire cone around my bowl to eat my meals, getting light-headed from self-asphyxiation.  I can’t even lick my own…ok, I won’t go there, but you know what I mean.  That one small advantage that we have over humans is now just out of my reach.

Permanent whiplash has set in.  And the other day I tried to duck under a fence rail along the horse pasture during our walk and ended up scooping up a pile of horse manure that then fell into my face and then settled itself and its smell around the base of my neck.  Fantastic! 

But I refuse to let this cone of misfortune break my spirit.  My tail has never stopped wagging and my warm tongue licks my mom’s hand lovingly as she gently strokes my ears and scratches under my chin throughout the day.  She continues to adore me no matter how bizarre my appearance now is.  During our walks, I have rediscovered my bounding energy despite this cumbersome appendage and kick up my heals with extra vigor as I run along the paths.  I still have my keen sense of smell and the cone actually enhances the delicious scents of spring, funneling them toward my twitching and eager nose.  I wonder if humans could maintain this kind of optimism if they woke up to find a plastic cone permanently around their heads.  I think sometimes to truly appreciate our lives, we just need a little dose of perspective.

Just as quickly as the cone appeared, it suddenly disappears one day after another car ride to the vet.  This time as I walk out of the exam room and into the lobby, several strangers come up to me and my mom – commenting on how handsome I am.  I relish the moment, puff my chest out a little more and trot through the door without catching my head and being whipped backwards. 

Freedom.  Perspective.  Appreciation.  I’m the luckiest dog alive!

Be the Ugly Duckling.  Laugh at Yourself.  Expose the Absurd.  Get Dirty.  Get Real.  Get Perspective.  Celebrate the Possibility.  Celebrate the Individual.

- EWE BEE U

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