Sweetie and the cone collar

After work today, I did some errands, and drove home thinking happy thoughts of the “Crop” (scrapbook event) I’m going to tomorrow. Mr. P. is not home at this point. I get out of the car, spot the recuperating Sweetie in the garage, and rush up to him happily…his face is POURING blood, and a new split in his flesh has appeared, from his cheek right up to his eyelid. I freak out, stuff him in the cat carrier, call the vet, and race back into town while simultaneously crying and reassuring Sweetie. A vet tech checks him out, says he’s been rubbing at his face with his paws, talks with the vet, puts a cone collar on Sweetie ($10), and off we go. Within 15 minutes of getting home, Sweetie had freaked out and gotten out of the cone collar and hid under my car. Mr. P. (home from his errands) coaxed him out, but as soon as Sweetie saw the collar, he ran off under the shed. Meanwhile, 9 dogs are clamoring for my attention, I’m so hungry I could eat my left arm (got to leave the right arm so I can hold the fork)…anyway, I finally got a meal together, Sweetie wandered back into the garage, I managed to get a dose of antibiotic into him, and now I’m done for the day. I’m going to skip the Crop event tomorrow so I can take Sweetie back to the vet to have his paws bandaged (so he can’t damage himself further), and then I think I’ll drop by the ER for a lobotomy.