Toast had her surgery on the 24th of September. When I went to pick her up after the operation, she was like a zombie, still groggy from the anesthesia, her left eye a swollen red mush, her vision further restricted by a huge Elizabethan collar around the neck.
Once we got out of the car, she refused to climb up the stairs. I had to call B-Boy to carry her up, cause she was too heavy for me. The whole evening was an ordeal. She just stayed wherever we put her, refusing to move or even look at us when we call her. She didn't have any food or liquid since last night because of the surgery, but with the cone, she couldn't really eat or drink either, so I had to lift a small bowl of water to her muzzle every fifteen minutes, since she could only lap up a little bit before falling back into a stupor. She tried to get under my bed, where her basket is, but every time the cone hit something, she would freeze in shock. Finally, I could not stand it any longer, watching her stagger from exhaustion, unable to lie down to sleep because of that frigging cone. I removed the cone and right away, she perked up, ran to her water dish and drank for 15 straight minutes without lifting her head up for breath.
When the doctor called the next day for news, I didn't tell her about the cone. The whole week, I gave Toast lots of energy healing. The results are amazing.
The day of the surgery:
Two days ago:
And this morning, I knew things were back to normal when during our breakfast, she did what she always used to do every morning: instead of eating the first piece of croissant I gave her, she took it to B-Boy's room and put it on his bed, because she considers herself as his mother. Only after feeding him would she come back to me and share my breakfast.