My cat is in a cone.

His name is Steeger, he’s six months old and he just got neutered.

I know they call it “the cone of shame,” but I don’t get that.
Shameful? No. Hilarious? Yes!

At first he dragged the edge on the ground which was basically keeping him from going anywhere. Then he realized he had to keep his head up. Now he bobs like Vinnie Barbarino when he walks.

So funny.

He’s a good cat. Kitten, I guess.
Short hair which is much smarter for this family.
He’s very attentive and loving and gets on well with the dogs.
And he’s a pretty good sport about the cone.

He continues to groom himself.
Stretching into yoga-envy poses, he licks and licks, then shifts position and licks some more. He has to know his tongue is not on fur, that it’s plastic he’s tasting, but he’s dedicated.

He even tries to play with his bottle caps on the kitchen floor. They’re much harder to keep track of and occasionally I hear the cone as he runs into a cabinet.

I can tell what room he is in by what he’s knocking over.
Poor fella has no depth perception or peripheral vision.
Or maybe he’s taking his cone shame out on my stuff.

I tossed him a treat. Cats don’t catch.
It fell into the cone. He spent a full minute trying to get it.
(Just imagine the cuteness of this cat rotating his head every which way with a CONE ON! I’m sure he felt adorable.)
Finally, he figured out all he had to do was lean down and the treat slid to the floor.
Or maybe he dropped his head in disgust at the woman who torments him so.
Either way, he got the treat, so SCORE!

The cone comes off today.
Now, what will I do for entertainment?

(hee, hee)