A few weeks ago we noticed a growth on the top of one of the dog's front paws. We took him to the vet, who said it was something like a cyst that needed to be removed soon. After the surgery we kept his foot wrapped with gauze and a self-adhering bandage.
As soon as the effects of the general anesthetic wore off, it became quite clear that we would need something to prevent the dog from accessing his paw with his mouth. A standard plastic e-collar (Elizabethan collar, aka "cone of shame") seemed to be the most economical approach. But the size that fit him was simply not adequate. Our dog could access his paw with relative ease even with the collar properly in place.
Before long we obtained a Comfy Cone brand padded fabric collar for the dog. It was a little longer. But the dog could still get to his paw. So we came up with the brilliant idea to extend the Comfy Cone by attaching the e-collar with duct tape, redneck style.
Although this extended the cone, our dog could still manage to reach his paw via somewhat extraordinary contortions. He would stand up and bend his head down in a way that bent the outer edge of the extended cone, at the same time shoving his paw forward as far as it would go. Then he would extend his neck far enough that he could reach the paw with his front teeth. This allowed him to rip off the bandage and chew up his knuckles to the point of making them bleed. (Although, he still couldn't reach the stitches.)
After getting very tired of having to constantly baby-sit the dog, I grabbed an old ice cream bucket one day, cut the sides from it, and used duct tape to attach the pieces so that they extended the double cone yet more. Seeing how this worked, I used parts of two more ice cream buckets to make a (nearly) full circle.
The pieces of ice cream bucket looked like flower petals. This conical concoction was heavy and unwieldy. I started calling it "Conehenge." It looked utterly ridiculous. But it kept our tenacious dog from reaching his paw. The paw began healing nicely over the next couple of days as we regularly changed the dressing, gave the dog prescribed antibiotics, and also gave the dog buffered aspirin formulated for canines.
Until he could. He managed to break Conehenge enough to access his paw while we were out of the house. It ripped up his mouth to do so, but apparently that was an acceptable price to pay. We were frustrated. Although we realized that the dog was simply doing what his instincts told him, we were about out of options. My brother suggested that the correct answer to a situation of this nature was a bullet to the noggin. And before anyone asks, nasty tasting deterrent sprays and bitter tasting bandage material offered little in the way of dissuasion to our dog.
While we were trying to figure out how to deal with our dog's cone situation, the dog was unattended for a few moments when we thought he was sleeping. I soon discovered that his paw was missing the bandage and wound dressing. I looked around, but the remnants were nowhere to be found. My wife said that he must have eaten it. The dog has always had a thing for bandages. He would love to lick a bandage right off your finger if you let him. But I couldn't imagine how the critter could have ingested the entire paw dressing in such a short time frame.
We ended up buying an extra large e-collar and hooking that to the Comfy Cone with duct tape.
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| Conehead the Barkbarian |
Although the super cone keeps the dog's paw safe, it is still unwieldy. He can go down steps, but he can't go up stairs of his own accord because the lower lip of the cone hits and gets stuck on every step. We end up having to heft and carry our 65-lbs of Imo Inu every time steps must be climbed. The dog can't eat or drink on his own. He can't get as close as he'd like to sniff at stuff. He can't self groom. He constantly bumps into people, walls, furniture, the floor, etc. In other words, the cone is a pain for the dog and for us. But what else can we do?
Last night our coned canine seemed uncomfortable all night long. He just couldn't seem to get into a comfortable position, dog aspirin notwithstanding. He made a lot of noise rustling about, which interrupted the sleep of family members. We couldn't fathom what was wrong. His paw seemed to look so much better.
This morning as I sat down to work, the dog leaned on my legs beneath my desk. He was being especially clingy. Then suddenly he hurled up a massive load of vomit. I couldn't keep all of it from going onto the carpet, but I was able to quickly direct his cone so that most of the bilious mass sloshed onto my plastic chair mat, like it was sliding down a reverse funnel.
The central feature of this nasty spew was the bandage and gauze that had gone missing from the dog's paw, in two large and two small chunks. The whole thing was there. It had somehow been in his belly for four full days. He had eaten, drunk, urinated, and defecated during that time without showing signs of gut problems. I have no idea why he suddenly became uncomfortable only last night. At least he seems to be feeling better now, although, I had to clean up under my desk.
I am fond of reminding family members that I voted against getting the dog. I knew he would impose a number of burdens on our family that I didn't think were worth the trade off. The dog regularly frustrates me and I am forced to deal with the onuses that I knew would be part of dog ownership. But I still love the dog and everyone in the family knows it. Including the dog.
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