Just last week Matt and I were commenting on how it had been quite some time since we took a sick mutt to the vet. Obviously we didn't have our brain stems connected that day, since tempting fate with regard to the vet is not just a bad idea, but an assurance that at least one dog would be deathly ill in the days to come. In this instance, it was Zero, sporting a brand new eye infection, complete with green gooey puss gunk practically dripping from his right eye.

After checking his cornea for scratches, Zero was duly coned and I was handed eye drops. Even though the cone prevents him from continually scratching at his eye, it doesn't prevent him from trying. What's worse is that it doesn't prevent him from trying at three in the morning until one of us gets up and scratches his head for him.

Unlike Tawny, Zero refuses to let his head wear get in the way of his life. Sadly, this means he dunks the thing straight into his water bowl and food bowl. And rams it into furniture that didn't previously block his way. And scraps it along walls. While these may seem like accidents caused by an unwieldy chunk of plastic enveloping his head, I know the truth. He's teaching us the lesson that it is NOT OKAY TO CONE HIM.