Plan B

In the ongoing saga of Grady and his elbow, we've now gone to Plan B to aid in his recovery. When I took him out this morning for a short walk, first his bandage fell off, and then his legs slipped out of the shirt, making it impossible for him to walk. I guess he and Kirk just aren't the same size. In an effort to keep his incision dry and protected (at the vet's urging), we had to pull out the satellite dish this morning. You know what I mean, the big lamp-shade looking collar that some dogs have to wear to stop them from licking their body parts. We had actually brought one with us from the US, and now I'm really glad we have it. He doesn't like wearing it, of course, but at least we know he can't reach his elbow with it on. There won't be a picture of this stage of recovery because I refuse to subject him to any further humiliation.