Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro?

Cody has some unusual phobias. He’s scared of floor vents, plastic bags, gates and especially terrified of veterinarians.

I guess you could say he’s a real scaredy cat – except that he’s a dog.

I can’t just refer to him as my boyfriends’ golden retriever because Cody has adopted me as his mother. Where ever I am he follows, and if I’m sitting still, he expects to be petted and will nudge me insistently if I stop.

He and his black lab brother – Cooper, don’t realize that they’re dogs as they share the house and more often than not, meals with us.

After having the house torn up for over three months Codys’ patience was wearing thin of being blocked off from one room or another. The final subcontractor had put the last coat of the smelly shiny stuff on the wood floors so we were confined to the back porch for the evening.

While petting Codys’ ears I felt a large bump – which turned out to be a broken blood vessel that would require surgery to be lanced and stitched.

If only our medical needs could be as simple as those of a dog. No pre-testing for surgery or filling out endless forms of medical history and insurance coverage and best of all – no waiting. Call that morning, explain your need, and have surgery the same day.

When we picked him up he looked lopsided with one ear completely shaved but other than that he was great. They tried to send us home with one of those cones to put on his head so he wouldn’t be able to accidentally, or on purpose, pull out any of the stitches. We assured the vet that we would keep a close eye on him so we didn’t need to turn him into a conehead.

Cody was so happy to be back home until he found out that we were still confined to one room as the floors still couldn’t be walked on – but we figured it would make it easier to watch him anyway. We weren’t home for five minutes when he dropped, rolled and pulled out a couple of stitches. With the vets’ office now closed, I had to make a run to the animal emergency clinic to purchase “the dreaded cone.”

I’ll admit that wearing a cone on your head would make life a little more difficult. Cody had already been dubbed as a drama dog, but after the initial shock of wearing the cone wore off he kicked his pitifulness into full gear.

When he couldn’t see us watching he acted fairly normal, or as normal as you can with a cone on your head. He put on quite a show, wanting to be hand fed, acting as though the cone was keeping him from reaching the bowl. If any part of the cone hit the doorway or furniture he would stop still in his tracks until you got up and helped him. Basically he’s become like a two-year-old that sheds. I’m pretty sure he’s milkin’ it for all its worth – and that’s OK with me.

Cody may be tagged as “man’s best friend” but he’ll always be my loyal and furry favorite fellow.