The Cone of Shame

Well, it looks like Aslan's beach days are behind him for a few weeks.

Somehow, he's gotten his skin sliced open on his belly, it's gotten infected, he's "coned", on antibiotics, and awaiting surgery first thing Monday morning.  Poor little guy.  It really hurts him, and he was crying in his sleep last night, but he still wanted to go for a walk today (not allowed)...

 The designated dog walking area of our rooftop garden.

...and he wanted to play with the other dogs we saw on our rooftop garden dog tinkling area. 

We had to take the top off his kennel so he could get in it and turn around when he needs 

to feel more secure.  He's old and arthritic, though, so he never stays in there for too long before he needs to stretch out again.

Of course, he cannot be left alone during recovery, and our house raising contractor (we're raising the fixer-upper we bought nine feet) is scheduled to start work on the beach house next week.  Not sure how we're going to manage that.  Maybe my husband will be able to work from home so I can go out to the coast to supervise...

Okay, so his eyes are looking a little satanic here -- so much for the red-eye 

function on the flash!  Truly, he has the sweetest dark brown calf eyes.

Aslan is fourteen years old, and he's been a good and loyal dog, and he's kept the tigers out of our town, so we really want him to be able to live out his days at the beach house with us.  Hopefully, we'll get this infection under control, and the surgery and recovery will go well.