Mom and dad had been going back and forth about the "Elizabethan collar". Dad kept saying that I would definitely rip off my bandage overnight and should wear it, mom saying that I hadn't really even noticed the bandage much so I would probably be ok... The vet had been insistent about my potential for destruction of said bandage...
Mom tried to show the benefit of not chewing. The penalty would be having to wear the awful plastic lampshade on my head. She decided - since I'm a very visually-oriented dog - to show me what it looked and felt like to wear it. I watched her bump into things and heard her complain loudly.
Point taken, mom.
So I basically proved that I wasn't that interested. For insurance, dad put a black sock over my paw (which felt really weird for awhile, I kept walking funny) with some duct tape (which is supposedly something magical that fixes anything and everything, I must learn more about this magic tool for evil) on overnight and surprise, surprise, I didn't chew it at all. The thought of having to face any of my friends with that contraption on (yes, I am just a teensy bit vain) was too much. No chewing mom, I promise!
And don't worry I haven't forgotten about prodding mom for my new glamour shots. Even with the sock full of foxtails (this is what I look like coming home after every time I step outside to pee with all the crazy foxtails out there - legs of velcro) I'm looking damned handsome...
The boss of my own blog too: www.toaireisdivine.com