Cone of Shame

My new puppy recently was spayed and now must wear the “cone of shame” for the next seven to ten days.  Looking at her forlorn little face, I couldn’t help but start coming up with little jokes at her expense.  Here are a few…

1.  The traditional, it looks like she put a lamp shade on after a few too many at a party.

2. Is she a Hoover or a Kirby?

3. She looks like a big hairy flashlight.

4. Can we get a satellite signal with her?

5. If you talk into her butt, will she act as a megaphone?

She’s not amused, but I’m still working on them.

Life Cycles

I overheard some friends talking today and it was about physical changes folks go through from the time you’re born and so forth.  I heard someone offer the following nugget…”they say that your body changes every seven years.”   Now I don’t know if that’s fact or fiction but all I could think of was that I must be 140 years old.



A plant with spiny-toothed leaves.

A plant that provides a soothing aloe vera used to treat burns & skin irritations.

The way a French speaking person pronounces “hello.”

Body Flossing

People of a certain age, with a certain family medical history often find themselves in a certain position to have to go for certain medical procedures to screen themselves for certain conditions or diseases in an effort to avoid what may have befallen certain family members.  Of this I’m certain.

I know this because there is no other reason a person would willingly subject themselves to these procedures unless they had the fear of God in them.

I’ve had to go for both Endoscopies as well as Colonoscopies for the reasons I’ve described and always both on the same day.  It makes sense since they only have to “put you out” once and take care of both procedures.  Now, in case you aren’t familiar with these procedures, an endoscopy sends a camera on a tube down your throat through the esophagus to your stomach.  The colonoscopy sends a camera on a tube from your rectum through your intestines to your stomach.  This leaves me with the uneasy visions of them sending the camera in one way until it actually comes out the other.  You know…as a  time saver.

At this point, I picture one set of nurses & technicians grabbing hold of one end of this line while the physician and others keep hold of the other end.  This starts a great tug-of-war contest and in essence, gives you a complete body floss.  With you happily asleep on a nice dose of propofol, you are none the wiser.  Until of course, you wake up to find one group paying off the other in lost wagers while you are left to wonder why you are sore all over.

The other thought based on how sore you may feel is that this camera on a tube is less microscopic and more like a garden hose with a small video camera duck taped to it.  With enough lubricating jelly you can get anything in and out of small orifices.

The last of your fears and clearly the worst is to notice, just as the propofol is kicking in and putting you to sleep, that your doctor is entering the operating room wearing nothing but a pair of western chaps.

But at the end of the day, if it turns out you have no polyps or any issues…who can complain.

Making Do

Life is all about getting through obstacles.  Those that manage survive and those that let the obstacles block them do not.  It’s about taking those situations and making do…or not and making your life doo-doo.  This all sounded very profound when it first came out of my head.

Doggie Baths

There is nothing funnier than seeing the look of deadly fear in the eyes of your dog when they know it is time for their bath, despite the fact that these are the same knuckleheads that will roll around in mud, run through puddles and in the right circumstances, drink out of the toilet bowl.  But present them with a tub of warm water and a bottle of dog shampoo and they look like they’d prefer a night in solitary confinement instead.

Happy Halloween

I guess it’s sort of a right of passage to be out trick or treating as a teenager and have to deal with the slings and arrows in the form of shaving cream, silly string & especially raw eggs that will be coming your way from rival trick or treaters.

Being a part of a group of “good kids” which kind of, sort of changed as we got older, we never gave in to this kind of behavior.  But at a certain point in our lives we decided we weren’t going to back down from it either.  So, at roughly the ages of 14 or 15, we decided that being to old to trick or treat with the little kids in daylight, we were taking our rightful place and going out at night with the big kids and damned the torpedoes.  So we meticulously put on our ultra cool costumes as vampires & werewolves with actual fangs and fake blood and psyched ourselves up with talk of how tough we were and how we were the baddest “gang” in the neighborhood.  We grabbed our pillow cases which this day would serve as our treat sack…no more plastic pumpkins or shopping bags for us…(we were too cool for that) and we set out.

Walking down the street in the cool dusk of approaching darkness, we stopped off at some familiar houses just to get us started and collect some easy candy, but soon we were blocks away from home.  We were feeling confident and even had a touch of arrogance as we stepped up our pace and marched along, shoulders back & chests out in front.

Suddenly, in the quiet of the evening while happily moving along with our little group of friends there was a whistling sound that broke the silence followed by a “pop.”  We all stopped moving and looked around.  We soon realized that the tallest and, by virtue of his height, the “toughest” of our group stood there with raw egg dripping off his ear along with egg shell shards in his hair.  No one moved or spoke…until he mustard his thoughts.  “We can go home now.”

It was at this point that we realized where the egg had come from.  There was a rival group of kids across the street & two homes down that had their eye on us.  Suddenly, we were being pelted by a half-dozen or so raw eggs. It looked like the bird pooping scene in Mel Brooks’ Hitchcock spoof, “High Anxiety” and it was at this point that we realized our tall, sticky friend’s comments made a world of sense and not only did we turn for home…we bolted.  We ran as fast as we could with the egg tossing hoodlums in pursuit.

Arriving safely and mostly unscathed we huddled in a buddy’s garage and spoke of how the only reason we had to run was because they had weapons and we did not. If the words & excuses were tough to swallow, the candy wasn’t.  Even if we ended up with a lot less than we planned on.

Happy trick or treating!