No Cone of Shame for Cats

One of my favorite movies, Up, has a scene involving the "Cone of Shame".  When the main dog character, Dug, does something wrong, the other dogs make him wear it, and he feels terrible.  Dug is such a people pleaser, a good boy, that he can't bear to disappoint anyone.  The Cone is actually the plastic cone that the vet puts on dogs to keep them from fussing with their stitches after surgery.  It's necessary for good healing, although the dogs don't like it.  It smells funny, and it makes moving around difficult.  It also provides many amusing moments for dog owners, and occasionally a viral video for the internet. 

Cats are not people pleasers.  This is part of the reason why we adore them.  When a cat does something wrong, they don't cower and act chastised.  It's not their nature.  Cats do not exhibit the behavior we consider to be shame.  They feel that they've groveled enough just allowing us to exist, and we had better not forget it.  

Cats sometimes come home from the vet wearing a cone.  Our cat Bella, who was just spayed this week, came home wearing a cone.  The vet tech told us that she needed to wear the cone for 7 days.   We were to keep Bella quiet and still, while she was recovering from surgery, the vet said.  No jumping.  No running. No late night cheeseburgers. 

We intended to follow the doctor's orders. We brought our precious cargo into the house, and opened the crate door.  Maisy, our lab mix, was curious about the new smells coming from the crate, and leaned in to investigate.  Bella stumbled out, still groggy from the anesthesia. The sight of a huge black dog, even one she knew, had her running,  The cone gave Bella a lean to starboard, and her feet were carrying her in the opposite direction from where she wanted to go.  Bella was still groggy, and did not even seem to be aware of the cone around her neck. So we let her sit on her perch, once she got up there, and Bella fell asleep with the cone supporting her head.  Once she woke up, she realized that there was something around her neck that was just, NOT.

Not supposed to be there.  Not supposed to exist.   Not allowed.  No way.  Nope.

The battle was on.  Bella growled, an unearthly sound for such a tiny cat.   Maisy and the other two cats found places to watch the show.  Then there was some running about, lots of jumping and leaping, and So. Much. Noise.  She was too fast to catch, even for Zane, who will be the only one in the family to survive the zombie apocalypse.  Bella was as determined as a year old cat who just got spayed can be.  All we could do was follow her around the house in procession as she ran amok. Before our eyes, the string that was keeping the cone around her neck was gone, and nobody had any idea where, or when, it had disappeared. While we were processing that information,  Bella rounded a corner and the cone was...gone.  Problem solved.  She skidded to a stop, glared at us, and began grooming her paws.  We all waited for another hubbub to occur.

She was quiet and still the rest of the night. 

Book Review: Furiously Happy

So...I bought this book the other day. Furiously Happy, by Jenny Lawson.  Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess,  lives in Texas.  Which is kind of cool.  She's been blogging for a long time, and she has quite a following.  Deservedly so. She is one funny woman. She's also mentally ill, and is okay with admitting that.  I like her idea that one should be "furiously happy" when you can manage it, in defiance of all your crazy.   That takes a kind of bravery that is not often heralded.  Sometimes just getting out of bed takes all the courage a person can muster up from inside.  I respect that.  

I intended to put the book in my "hospital bag"; the bag of things I can do while I am recovering from surgery.  Somehow, the smile on the face of that racoon called to me, and I just had to start reading. I brought the book with me when we went to Zane's soccer practice.  Once I was settled into my seat next to the other parents on the sidelines, I opened the book and began to read.  Several minutes later, I snorted.  Then I giggled.  The mom next to me, who had been reading on her iPad, glanced at me.  I snorted again, unable to control myself.  If you've ever tried to stop yourself from laughing, then you know that it is an impossible task.  Before I knew what was happening, I was belly laughing so hard that tears were spilling down my face. I may have even guffawed.  All the soccer parents stopped watching their children and swiveled their heads in my directions.  I wasn't embarrassed by my display of frivolity, but since I wasn't about to read aloud to the entire sideline, I reluctantly put the book aside.  

Of course, once we got home, I had to read the more hysterical passages to my husband, including the story of Rory the Raccoon.  The Bloggess is known for her love of taxidermied animals, and it makes for some interesting life events.  Larry agreed that the story of Rory was 'snort-worthy'.  I then read to him the section about when Jenny was panicking while she was in New York to promote her first book, and she texted Neil Gaiman.

"Wait," my husband said. "Are you telling me that she has Neil Gaiman's phone number and she can TEXT him? Whenever she wants to? "

"I think he reads her blog," I told him.

"Why doesn't Neil Gaiman read YOUR blog?" Larry said.

"I've been a little busy," I replied.  I was feeling a little defensive.  The Bloggess doesn't have a job where she has to leave her house, and I do.  Most of us are in the same boat.  Also, I've had that whole cancer treatment thing for the past year, which I would certainly call a mitigating circumstance.   Anyway, it could just be that Mr. Gaiman hasn't had time to read my blog yet.  Yeah.  I'm going to just go with that. 

Anyway, Furiously Happy is an entertaining read.  You'll laugh, you'll cry.  You may even snort.  I recommend this book, because laughter is in short supply these days.  We all need more of it.  If you find yourself feeling a little bit more accepting of those with mental illness, that's a good thing.  If you have a mental illness, and this book helps you accept yourself and what makes you YOU, then that's a good thing, too.