My small dog underwent two cataract removal surgeries in January, 2020. (Both eyes, one surgery.)

Apollo received the most hated, most despised, and most humiliating item a dog could ever have.

The Cone.

For twenty-eight days!!!

He did not take it well.

He, being the true fighter he is, battled valiantly against it.

First, he didn’t move – like a frozen awkward dog statue, hoping to convey his displeasure loud enough for us to hear it and thus making us remove the cone.
It didn’t work.

Next, he doubled down. He launched the feared attack known as Night Whining. It required persistent loud whining, preferably accompanied with even louder digging in his crate.

It didn’t work.

Then Apollo had no choice but to use the Hail Mary of attacks, meant as a last resort to unmentionable horrors—like going for a walk in rain, or not allowed to bark at everyone who passed by the house—the much feared Turning Back on Owner attack. Not once—after a particularly long whining-digging night session—but twice when it was time to be picked up so we could take him down the stairs. (Note: he has never walked down the stairs on his own merit. Up, yes. Down, nope.) He did it. He turned his back on us, indicating how he truly felt about the audacity of wearing the horrid cone.

It didn’t work. The cone stayed on his neck for twenty-eight days.

When the vet removed it, Apollo had one thing to say about it, “I WON!”

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