5 more freaking days.
Well at least the vet took the bandage off today. He suggested (firmly) that I must wear the “cone” and I gave mom a look of confusion. She smiled sweetly while making the face that says “not now, I’ll tell you what that means later…” and we got to leave.
Mom explained that the “cone” is that horrible elizabethan collar thingy that I’ve been avoiding since the beginning of this whole foxtail fiasco. Mom hates it and is doing everything she can to make me not have to wear it… including wearing snazzy socks everyday. But that means I have to be good, to not play with my now-exposed stitches.
But they’re sooooo fascinating m-o-m…