The Cone of Character
By Gordon Hopkins
So last weekend, I had to go through the drama that all pet owners eventually must endure.
Archie (the fat, orange cat) was sick.
I didn’t realize it at first. Cats are notorious for hiding when they are in pain. It is an evolutionary holdover from the days when cats were vicious, brutal predators and not the fluffy, adorable substitute children for needy people with no social skills.
On Saturday, I noticed Archie moving kind of sluggishly and laying around a lot. For those who say I should have known something was wrong, I will just point out that he’s a cat. Being lazy is in their job description. However, on Sunday, I realized he wasn’t eating. Now that was most definitely a red flag, especially for Archie, who wouldn’t even take one of his favorite treats.
It was the weekend, so I had to find an emergency vet. Thankfully, I got one to admit him. They soon determined Archie had a urinary blockage. His bladder was full like an overripe tomato ready to burst. No wonder he was feeling bad. The vet had to insert a catheter. (Oh, stop cringing. I once wrote three columns about my colonoscopy. If you could read that, you can read this.)
Because Archie had a catheter, he also had to wear the infamous neck cone. Some folks call it the cone of shame. I have never understood that. First of all, it is literally wrong, because cats have no shame. Second, the cat has done nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, cats do a lot of stuff they should be ashamed of, but getting sick isn’t one of them.
The cone is humiliating, but not shameful. That is why I have decided to rename it. As a young boy, whenever I was forced to do something humiliating, and boys are always being forced to do humiliating stuff, my father always had the same response whenever I complained: “It builds character.”
I never found this answer satisfying. I saw no reason then, nor do I now, see a reason to build any more character than I was already born with. I am already a character, as most people who know me will attest. It is my observation that characters are born, not built, anyway.
Nevertheless, the myth that humiliation builds character persists. Therefore, I have decided to rechristen the cone of shame as “The Cone of Character.”
Please alert the media. Tell your friends.
Anyway, back to the story. After three nights at the pet hospital, Archie returned home. He is not 100 percent yet, but he is on the mend. There is a bald spot on his front leg, where an IV was placed to give him fluids but I am happy to say the vet did not make him wear the cone home. That is for the best. I doubt his little brother (Groucho, the black cat) would ever let him live it down.
Just one other point. The cone he they made him wear was blue. I didn’t realize they came in different colors. If I had known, I probably wouldn’t have picked blue. It was a nice color, but I’ve always thought Archie was more of a summer hue.
