Before I regale you with tales of my poor cone-headed Mildred, swing on over to check out today’s Craftastrophe. I’m going to learn how to crochet and make one of these for everyone on my Christmas list.
You’re right, my lazy ass will probably end up sticking red and green bows on cans of Coors Light and calling it done, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend. Why do you have to crash my dreams like that, Interwebz? I swear, you’re such a party pooper.
Milred hate her cone. HATES. Her every waking moment is an epic battle against the dreaded Cone Overlord. Fortunately for the cone, she sleeps a lot.
When she’s not napping, she drags the cone everywhere – along walls, against the furniture, across the floor – hoping against hope that the cone might snag on something and liberate her. She’s worn a kitty-height line down the wall of my hallway. The sound of the cone on the wall is a harsh squeal/scratch combo that has me thinking about stealing her pain meds.
She may have inherited the family flair for the dramatic.
But today she’s feeling better. I know this because she insists on chasing Lucy, who hates the cone even more than poor little Mildred. The thing is, due to the size of the cone, Mildred can’t lift and bend her front legs as she normally would. They clunk right into the hood as soon as she starts the familiar motion. So not only does the bathing impaired cat smell like death, she’s adapted this awkward straight legged zombie walk/run that makes her look like a long lost cast member of the Thriller video…or Kate Moss. I can’t fault Lucy for running.
Also, I’m pretty sure I now know where the word “catwalk” came from.
“She may have inherited the family flair for the dramatic.”
I know I shoulndt laugh, but this crack me up… in a way, if some animals can do drama, those are cats…
She rolls deep with the drama. DEEP.
Poor Kitty! When our pup Maggie had to wear the “Cone of Shame” this summer, our older mutt Moxie, was terrified of it, and would tear out of the room whenever Maggie tried to play with her. I’m guessing she thought it was a contagious condition.
It doesn’t hurt that Mildred smells like death cause she can’t clean anything. Woof.
🙂 You have to laugh at her, poor thing. It’s adorable and sad and hilarious all at the same time. How long does she have to wear it? Much longer and I don’t think the Coors will be around for Christmas!
Speaking of, do NOT put me on your Christmas list! I could barely look at that knitted-gimp-mask-wearing horror!
TWO WEEKS! How ridiculous is that? I can’t even wear the same pair of jeans for two weeks. Ok that’s just a bold face lie.
HA! That gives a totally new face to amigurumi.
I love it when kitters get all stretchy like that.
Ok I had to google that but boy was that fun!
That picture is hilarious. Poor Mildred… I cannot fathom Sylvia Plath unwashed and with cone, though I imagine it would not go over well as she is rather mercurial.
I love everything about that statement. Have I mentioned I’m glad you’re back yet?
‘She may have inherited the family flair for the dramatic.’ Best line!! LMAO
I’m grateful my baby has not yet had to wear the cone of shame. A previous baby of mine did, but he got it off somehow. Then he managed to get the METAL ROD OUT OF HIS BROKEN LEG. Loved beau, but he was quite suicidal.
Holy vomit! Poor critter.
Poor Mildred. How does she eat with that thing on?
Nothing stops this little machine from eating.
What if people had to wear cones? I mean, my hubby had a vasectomy. It would have been WAY more fun for me if he had to wear a cone after. I’d have a whole Facebook photo album of him in his cone.
Get well, Mildred!
Okay, yeah yeah, cat in the hat, too cute. More importantly, I get the first crocheted masterpiece, yes???
You’re on the list. Think of me when you’re drinking that luke warm Coors, k?
OH.MY.JEZUZ! He Who Loves All Thing Wicked was asked nicely (forced) to have (endure) a vascectomy (burning and tying of the balls) and, quite honestly, after childbirth, the only thing that would have made it less unpleasant (more incredibly hilarious) would have been a cone.(and the subsequent photos with cone and the frozen peas in crotch…OH YEAH!!!)
Yep, see, I had two kids, so I figure he still owes me another vascectomy. Or at the very least, a cone to wear for a bit.
You should rub some catnip on the inside of it, so she’ll chill out. And also maybe get her some dreads for the outside of her cone.
Hot glue kitty. Aw yeah.
Poor Mildred. I bet the cone makes your laughter echo even louder too..
I know. I’m a monster. But I’m managed to stop myself from bedazzling it…so far.
Poor Kitty, little kitty soft kitty, meow, meow, meow.
I lurv Sheldon!
i think we should all wear cones tomorrow in support of mildred.
also, felt and yarn has never ever looked that creepy.
She had to have her cone tightened last night after she snagged a stitch and tried to recreate a scene from The Shining. I think I aged 47 years last night.
They should make cones for people. Some people can really use one.
p.s. Dramatic or not, I hope she feels 100% soon.
p.p.s. I will FedEx Youth Potion to counteract the aging effect that happened.
She’s getting there…
“Youth Potion” is a code word for seven bazillion packets of Arby’s sauce, isn’t it?
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