Fisher had his surgery yesterday. When we took him home he was completely spaced out and not at all happy about the large cone on his head. As you can probably tell from the picture.
Poor dog. He passed out somewhere and when he woke up there was a large plastic lampshade around his neck and I'm sure it felt like someone had kicked him in his non-existent nuts. I bet he had a wicked headache and a serious case of cotton mouth too. If he could talk, Fisher would call it totally demoralizing. But around here we call that "Sunday morning".