Mozzie’s Journal:

Attention fellow enconed canines! Your cone can be used as a scoop! There is still a little bit of snow here and I quickly realized that I can scoop up the snow with my cone and then gobble it up as it slides to my neck. This makes my neck wet and now a little smelly, but TOTALLY WORTH IT!

Since I’m the height of the counter, I can scoop up all kinds of things: cats, raw meat defrosting, the cats’ food, any and all remote controls on the coffee table, any and all cups (both empty and full) on the coffee table, and, of course, Mom. Dad doesn’t seem to be swept into the cone as easily, but Mom goes right in every time. She keeps talking about stitches. Then Dad said something about her being probably overdue for stitches.

Kita and I have officially joined forces, except on the issue of breakfast time (my favorite time) or dinner time (my favorite time) or when we get treats (my favorite time) because the presence of food makes us mortal enemies racing to eat the other’s rations.

Now that I am properly weaponized, I’ve decided a cease and desist is necessary in regards to the whining. I mean, unless I need to go out. Or I have an itch. Or I’m  hungry. Or I need an emergency bellyrub. Or I can’t remember how to get to my water bowl with the cone again. Or I get stuck on something. Or both Mom and Dad are home but not in the room I am currently in.

Sharon’s Journal:

He figured out how to use the cone for evil. We just had to move anything we love to higher than 4 feet off the ground. This dog is stupid smart and it’s driving me nuts.

I am probably going to need stitches if he keeps scooping me. He rushes at me from behind and I end up “sitting” next to his face in the cone until he whips his neck around and sends me flying to the floor or the corner of something hard. It’s super fun.