I have been meaning to write something about my best friend, the dog from the title of my blog. Black, shiny coat, mixed breed ( lab and collie with a bit of whippet thrown in for good measure ), ex-dog's trust, very faithful, squirrel scarer, rabbit hunter, cute and prone to making groaning noises as if in conversation with you. But other than the daily dog walk, breaking off a log that is way off the scale in proportion to her size, her need to be the dominant bitch with other dogs, sometimes with embarrassing consequences there isn't really that much to add....Until her accident. Not a bad accident, she cut her front dew ( how do you spell that? ) claw on some glass on one of her many hide and squirrel hunts. A trip to the vets, eye wateringly £250+ later ( we have no insurance ) she has stitches and a CONE. It is the wearing of the cone that has made me realise how much like her owner she really is. Whilst highly embarrassed at wearing it in public, displaying a real clumsy side ( like me ) by bashing into everything, me included and have the bruises to prove it, she also has realised that it has a second function. Utilising the Cone shape, as befitting any worthy whose-line-is-it-anyway contestant, she manages to; place it over her bowl to feed which means her visiting mates ( see Peanut ) can't get to her food before she can, she has used it to catch her ball in and probably best of all, the one she is most proud of, is that when given tit bits ( hey she needs fattening up ) she kind of saves bits on the inside of the cone. Think chicken juices that she can lick later. I'm very proud of her. The Cone gives her a regal Queen Elizabeth I quality but I think she will be quite glad to become a commoner again.
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