Cone of shame

In the words of Britney Spears, ‘there’s only two types of people in this world.’ Those who are clumsy (me) and those who follow their clumsy loved ones around with a hoover (my husband).

I’d like to mention that my husband is also prone to an embarrassing moment. Like the time his shirt button got caught in the table at a fancy bar; causing him to knock the table over (and all of the glasses on it) when he got up to use the toilet. *and scene*

It doesn’t quite beat my spectacular fall down the stairs in lockdown. Or the time I walked into a mannequin, then apologised.

But we aren’t the only ones getting in on the clumsy action. Our dog, aka Calamity Casper, is no stranger to bumping into things.

He is approaching eight weeks (I repeat, eight weeks!) of wearing the dreaded cone of shame.

It all started when he cut his leg on a door, resulting in a bandage and a cone. If that wasn’t enough to contend with, he then shook his tail so hard … he broke his tail. The result? An amputation.

It was a sad day but my husband and I took comfort in knowing that our beloved dog would only have to go through the ordeal once. WRONG. After three weeks of squealing (aka me singing lullabies to our poorly pup), his tail didn’t heal. The result? A further amputation.

Ouch! (said our bank account).

Thankfully, Casper’s tail has finally healed – to be perfectly honest it looks a lot better than the first amputation which had an, erm, ‘phallic’ appearance.

Casper: “it’s one thing feeling like a knob with the cone on your head, it’s another thing having a tail that looks like a knob.”

So, here’s to being clumsy. And here’s to sticking by your fellow clumsy loved ones in their accidental moment of need.

Now, if you don’t mind me I’m off to wrap my dog in cotton wool.