Except for a few ripped dewclaws and one altercation with a saber-toothed squirrel,
Smooch has led a remarkably healthy, vet-visit-free life. But in this, her eleventh year,
she developed several bumps and lumps which I've been keeping an eye on, and
this week it came time to have them removed.
There were five in all, the two pointed out above
and three along her right side.
I dropped her off at the clinic Wednesday morning to spend the day.
She was not pleased. She came home Wednesday night, still very drunk.
I took this video Thursday morning:
The cone is not her friend.
Smooch: How in the hell am I supposed to do my job if I can't see out the door?
Where there's a will, there's a way.