Meet the coneheads

I f our dogs could speak in this caption they would probably be saying something like, “Are you kidding me? Where’s the dignity, man?”

And could you blame them?

In recent weeks both our dogs, Caesar (the little one) and Bugsy the Border Collie were adorned with plastic cones following independent visits to our friends at the Imlay City Veterinary Clinic. Caesar underwent a neuter procedure, while Bugsy somehow got his tail caught in a barb-wired fence or a trap resulting in numerous stitches.

The dogs were required to wear the cones to prevent them from scratching and irritating their incisions and treated areas.

Bugsy, the first to get his personal satellite receiver, was most troubled by the cone. The first night he virtually stood still on his feet for hours at a time, not wanting or knowing how to get to the floor and get comfortable. I had to gently bend his knees and lay him to the floor or he would’ve fallen asleep and toppled over. Moving about the house or in the yard he cowered and stooped low to the ground — I’m assuming because of the disorienting effect the cone had on him. It took him days to hold his normal stature.

I managed to compound his stay under the cone when I caved to the doctor’s orders and removed the plastic to allow him to sleep comfortable one night. A huge mistake. Bugsy reopened the wound so I was back at the vet’s office with my tail between my legs. I’m pretty sure I felt worse than Bugsy did. Bad owner, bad!

Caesar, on the other hand, seemed to adapt much quicker to the whole ordeal. He adjusted to the cone and lifted his little head as he strutted about. There were a few occasions during this week-long treatment when he managed to scoop up a little grass or snow.

With both dogs it was hilarious to watch them try to eat or pick up a toy, because while bent to the floor or ground the entire cone was flush with the surface. We had to watch Caesar to make sure he didn’t submerge his head in his water bowl and drown.

With the cones pointed skyward I’m pretty sure they were able to pull in signals from satellite radio. Caesar appeared to favor R&B songs like “Who Let the Dogs Out?” by the Baha Men,

“Atomic Dog” by George Clinton and “Doggy

Dogg World” by Snoop Dogg while Bugsy seemed to dig classic tunes like “Hound Dog” by Elvis Presley, “Hey Bulldog” by The Beatles,

“Gonna Get Me a Dog” by The Monkees and even the questionable

“Puppy Love” by Donny Osmond.

Really Bugsy? What’s wrong with “Dog Eat Dog” by AC/DC?

I’m happy to report that the cones have been removed from the heads and

Caesar and Bugsy are both doing well.

jhogan@mihomepaper.com