We've reveled in the delights of dog ownership, specifically-we've delighted in dog ownership of the right sort of dog...Emma is frankly, delightful- and as I've said before, practically perfect in every way. I've reveled/danced/gloated/done the llama-llama and now pay-back has come in spades. or spays, actually. This week we had Emma spayed.
The dancing is over. over, I tell ya.
We suffered through the first night, which was really hard on Emma and on us. I insisted on taking home pain medicine for a day or two for her, even after being assured by the lady at the vet clinic "dogs are more resistant to pain then we are"...um, I can't type out my response to that without probably offending some of my readers...It was very plain after I gave her the first dose of superfluous pain medicine, that relief visibly came calling.
Poor, poor doggy.
Enter the cone of shame.
They put it on at the vet office. Emma let the weight of it drop her head floor-wards, and then refused to move a muscle, the picture of fear and misery. We removed the cone of shame and put it away for another day. This worked out well, because she was in so much pain and misery that she didn't move much and so it wasn't needed. At 4 a.m exactly...ask me how I know...she perked up a bit. We instituted the cone of shame, and Emma had a panic attack. I didn't know dogs could have panic attacks, but that was what it looked like. She got up from her bed at one point, I assumed to move to her other bed, was still...and yet I heard panting, panting that got louder and faster until maybe 5 or 10 minutes later I turned on the light and discovered her standing, frozen next to her bed with her head down.
Exit the cone of shame.
So, I have to sleep, alert to sounds of licking...and if she goes outside, I have to follow to watch for said licking. And someone has to watch her all day.
I bought her a new, better cone of shame- this one is see-thru and not as long/tunnel-ish and easier to get on and off. Tried it out at bedtime, same, but slightly less panicky result...but still panicky. And she cried. Off came the cone of shame, gone went my sleep.
It's going to be a long 7 days.
Any advice?