Quotes About the Cone of Shame

Date:  Friday, January 22, 2021

Time:  3:37pm

Speaker:  Sister

Quote:  “Your ear will be fixed on Monday.  One last weekend of wearing the Cone.”

Date:  Sunday, January 24, 2021
Time:  10:03pm
Speaker:  Pa
Quote:  “This is it, Squirt.  One more night and you lose the Cone.”

Date:  Monday, January 25, 2021
Time:  8:25am
Speaker:  Ma
Quote:  “Pa’s going to take you to the vet and she’s going to take the splint off your ear.  You’re going to be so handsome and you won’t have to wear the Cone anymore.”

Date:  Monday, January 25, 2021

Time:  10:31am
Speaker:  Pa
Quote:  “Here we go Sam, off to the vet.  Goodbye Cone!”

Date:  Monday, January 25, 2021
Time:  10:55am
Speaker:  Vet
Quote:  “Well, taking the splint off is kind of like taking a cast off a person’s arm.  You need to be really careful for a little while to make sure everything is alright.  Rigby should probably wear the Cone for a few more days just in case.”

Date:  Monday, January 25, 2021
Time:  11:07am
Speaker:  Rigby
Quote:  [the sound of a plastic Cone of Shame being “accidentally-on-purpose” shredded against the brick wall of the house]

More Tape Than Cone

My Missing Co-Worker

Over these last ten pandemic months, I’ve really come to enjoy my time as Sister’s Administrative Assistant.  I snooze by her side during meetings (sometimes directly under her chair making her unable to move), demand an ear rub when she’s stressed, make sure that she takes all her 15-minute coffee breaks (we spend them outside chasing squirrels), and keep a close eye on the time clock so that she’s always back to her desk on time after lunch.  I’ve learned the phrase “go to work,” am sorely disappointed on weekends and holidays when Sister is off, and generally get along quite well with my co-worker though we are currently engaged in a longstanding disagreement about shoes—I want to carry them away and chew on them and Sister wants me to leave them alone.

But last week, something happened.

In hindsight, I should have known something was weird when Sister sat down at her computer forty minutes early, but I was too excited about going to work to be suspicious.  So, as Sister signed onto her computer and filled out something called a "COVID-19 Health Screening," I took up my usual spot next to her on the floor.  But just as I was about to enter dreamland, Sister suddenly got up, grabbed her coat and car keys, and left the house.

I was in shock.  Where was Sister going?  Why wasn’t she at work?  And, most importantly, what was I supposed to do while she was gone?

First, I decided to try holding down the fort in Sister’s absence.  I hung out in the office, right next to Sister’s empty chair, and waited for the phone calls to start pouring in.  I was nervous, I won’t lie, but I was really hoping that I’d be able to land a big deal in her absence.  Maybe then she’d promote me from Administrative Assistant to Partner.

But the phone never rang.

Despondent (and seeing my promotion go down the proverbial drain) I lay at the foot of her chair sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping until Ma came in and checked up on me. 

Ma suggested that I join her in her makeshift office and, with nothing better to do, I obliged.  Following her into the dining room, I threw myself down under the table and waited for the phone call which would prove my worth and elevate my standing in her company to Partner.  That phone never rang either.

Once again despondent (and seeing my second promotion of the day going down the proverbial drain), I lay there under the dining room table sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping until Ma shouted at me to be quiet.

Offended, I wandered back into Sister’s office and took up my spot, once again, at the foot of her empty chair.  There I sulked—with intermittent breaks for sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping—for what felt like days until Sister finally returned home and took her place at her desk.

Sister’s absence that day (and all the subsequent sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping) lasted for a grand total of two hours.  Turns out, Sister went into the office that morning—her real work office —to drop some stuff off, sort through her mail, and collect binders and papers to bring home again with her.  When she was done, she came back home to finish out the work day with me. 

Needless to say, I was beside myself with joy to find that I still had a job.  Sister, after hearing about how confused and despondent I was, dragged my pillow into the office, straightened my blanket on the floor, and even brought my dinosaur toy in.  After demanding that Sister rub my ears and neck (I was still wearing the Cone of Shame and my ear was still stitched up and healing), I curled up on my pillow and finished out the workday snoozing.

Surgery and Recovery

I’m back and oh boy has it been a whirlwind of a week. 

Monday, December 28: Surgery Day. 

The morning started poorly with me not getting my breakfast and went downhill from there. Within hours I was knocked unconscious and underwent three separate procedures: a skintag removal from my chin, the removal of a growth from the inside of my lower left eyelid, and finally the correction of a hematoma right ear. 

The surgeries, apparently, went smoothly. The growth from inside my eye was expertly removed with no fur loss and a barely visible stitch (a biopsy of it came back benign) as was the skintag. My ear, however, was a bit more of a procedure. The fur had to be shaved and the process of correcting a hematoma is to stitch a piece of X-ray film over the length of the ear. 

But despite the success, I awoke in a cramp metal cage in a room full of barking dogs (I could smell cats in the vicinity), wearing the Cone of Shame. Annoyed, uncomfortable, and unable to resist a commotion, I barked so much throughout the night that by morning I was horse. 

Tuesday, December 29: 

Finally Home

After a hospital breakfast, I was released from the vet’s office to the arms of my family. I was stiff, out of sorts, instructed to wear the Cone of Shame for at least a week, and more than a bit horrified that the technician was able to effortlessly picked me up and load me into the back of the car.

Safe at home, I leapt out of the car and immediately snagged my cone on the side of the house. I tried to do my business and my cone kept scraping against the fence. Then my cone and I got caught between the side door and the side railing. Finally inside the house, I made a bee line for my water dish, knocking dining room chairs out of the way as went. 

That night, when Pa and Ma went to bed, I started to cry and yip using a voice still horse from the previous night of barking. I was inconsolable. I couldn’t see my family with my vision impacted by the Cone of Shame and between the Cone of Shame and my pain meds wearing off, I couldn’t get comfortable either. Eventually, Ma took me into the living room and slept there with me. Her curled up on the couch and me on the floor, I could keep an eye on her and felt calm enough to finally fall asleep (though I cried a little throughout the night). 

Wednesday, December 30: 

Snoozing on the Couch

The next morning, I woke up still a bit horse and a bit achy. Although Sister was only working a half day, I, her irreplaceable Administrative Assistant, called in sick and remained in the living room with Ma who was off (with Ma’s help I even managed to get up onto the couch). After a lot of naps and a round of medication, I woke up feeling much better and stopped in at the office to make sure everything was all right. Sister commented, while I wagged my tail and shoved my head and cone into her lap for an ear scratch, that I seemed much more like myself. 

How Can I Rip This?

Throughout the day I continued to improve. My voice started to return, I started using my cone as a weapon (hitting the back of my family’s knees with it and moving it ever so slightly to trip them when they tried stepping over me), and began to show interest in my toys (while I was gone, Sister sewed them all up). However, I was also becoming increasingly frustrated by having to wear the Cone of Shame all day every day. Getting around in the house was torture: Doorways were too small, the arms of chairs kept getting stuck in my cone when I passed by, and making turns in hallways lead to me being essentially suction cupped to the wall. I couldn’t drool all over my family, the floor, and the walls because of the giant splash guard of a cone I was wearing and, worst of all, I discovered that I couldn’t actually play with all the toys Sister sewed up for me since I couldn’t grip them with my paws to steady them while I rip them to shreds (and what, may I ask, is the point of toys if you can’t rip them to shreds?). 

Given how fitful the previous night had been, Pa decided to preemptively spend the night with me in the living room. We settled down, Pa on the couch and me on the floor, and we both fell asleep quickly. After a quick nap, I woke up and decided that it was time to go to bed, so I got up and stalked off into the bedroom. With a sigh, I threw myself down on my pillow and went to sleep. About an hour later, Pa woke up to find me gone. Peeved, and a bit stiff from sleeping on the couch, Pa limped back to bed.

Thursday, December 31: 

Thursday saw a drastic change in my mood when, once Sister got off from work, my entire family headed out east for the long weekend. Although I still had to wear my cone, the more open layout of the house meant maneuvering through it was easier on me (though it should be noted that I did hook the cone on the kitchen cabinet door and knocked three ornaments off the Christmas tree within five minutes of being there). Also, I discovered that my only surviving mini-Mecki toy was long enough for me to grasp with my paws outside of the cone while ripping the ears and mouth off with gusto inside of it. Because I had so many deep-seated frustrations, I was allowed to rip all I wanted, however, I got overexcited and started scratching at the cone so Sister took the mini-Mecki away and rubbed my head until I calmed down. 

I slept in the bedroom that night. 

Friday, January 1: Happy New Year! 

Blocking Pa's View

By Friday, I felt so much better that I even started to revert to my troublesome nature. First, I broke my cone in an epic struggle trying to get in the side door (my family taped it back together). Next, I purposely decided to obstruct Pa’s view of the television by sitting between him and the screen. That was a lot of fun. 

Saturday, January 2: 

Storage

On Saturday, I started using my cone as a pocket. I still hated it, but at least was proving to be a little bit useful. 

Sunday, January 3: 

My trouble spree continued. I stole Sister’s slipper right off her foot and I broke my cone once again in epic battle with the side door (once again my family taped it back together). Later in the day, Pa, Ma, and Sister let me play with my Marvin the Martian toy sans cone, but under extreme supervision. Within ten minutes I had killed Marvin—ripped his head from his body and extracted the squeaker—and, feeling triumphant, started rubbing my snout on the floor. All of a sudden, Ma and Sister swooped in (and I mean swooped...I have no idea where they came from) and threw my cone back on my neck preventing further snout rubbing. Fun being over, I curled up on my pillow and took a nap.