Horror of horrors, Gennevieve was now confined, restricted. Her world had come crashing to a limited vision and ability to move. She who had known no boundaries, now had a very confining and restrictive world.
Very similar to what I imagined a bull in a china shop would resemble, was Gennevieve with a Conehead. She crashed into everything. And she blamed everything but herself for those crashes. After the first 30 minutes or so of banging into counters, furniture, walls, Gennevieve would bark at whatever was restricting her passage. Her fury was released through her vocals. And vocal she was! She was going to shout at the world to move and let her through!
She could not understand why the Veterinarian would have put this contraption on her head. He must hate her! And she in turn would hate him from this moment in time forward! Let’s keep the balance scale even. Records up to date. And it would not be until she went to the Veterinarian years down the road from now, and he was to relieve her of pain, that he would be permitted back into her world of persons of acceptance!
Unfortunately as is common with pets and children, they do not comprehend the why and why not of certain restrictions in life. Excellent training for us however for our future experiences in life. Restrictions should be there to protect us, to aid and abet us in progressive and controlled development. But Gennevieve did not perceive this restriction in that manner at this time.
Gennevieve was having her first lesson in learning to think before she leaped in life. And she was not enjoying the learning experience nor the journey. She needed to stop and think about where she was, where she wanted to be, and the widest and most unencumbered path to traverse from position a to position b. She had to slow down and think all things through before she bounded into action.
Perhaps this is when Gennevieve began composing her Life’s Book of Rules. Maybe this environment stimulated her to want to begin to record life’s dos and don’ts, in order that she may always be on top, and always be the winner, always have the answers.
The characteristic to be the winner in all that she did in life, began when she was born. This was an innate quality of her personality, and specifically was why Gennevieve came to live with me so very very early in her life. More on that later; that story will be called, “Why I Was Chosen As Gennevieve’s Mom”.
She had to be the first, the best, the strongest, the smartest, the quickest, the cutest, and she would fly into a whirling dervish if she wasn’t. To watch such a small, tiny puppy have a temper tantrum at only 10 days of age is quite the scene. She would scream and growl and blow herself up into such a stature, all to be the one and only of the moment.
This Conehead was stopping all of that. And she was angry, and she was going to exercise her anger at everything opposing her paths. But to get so angry was not helping her to be rid of the cone, nor widening her path of travel, and was also terribly exhausting for her. (Go figure! lol)
Her first solution was to sit and stare at the wall. She sat and contemplated the wall for quite awhile, at least 10 minutes. When all of a sudden, she ran strait, square and directly into the wall. Poof. The cone shattered into pieces. She paused, sat and looked at the mess around her for a few seconds and then turned wiggling with joy and delight that she had conquered her problem! She had climbed the mountain and won! She was victorious. Now she got it, this was simply another test for her to win. And she had won. The cone was off. She was free again. She was the victor! But not to wear such a crown as the Conehead!
But the reason for the cone was not yet satisfied nor fulfilled; she still had stitches in her ear. And her ear had the highest level of fragility, and the easiest to re injure without the protection of the cone.
So back on the new cone went. That is the first I remember what I later termed her “ballistic face”. She could bore holes into your soul when she was angry. There was no questioning the “ballistic face”, the complete expression of eyes, brows, muzzle, lips and posture always stated clearly, she was angry!
And so back into the wall she ran. Poof, off it came again. This time however it did not break, but only separated at the seam. And she looked at me as though, there, I will do it again, and again, and again, as long as you put that horrible thing on my head!
Gennevieve, you do not understand sweetheart, the cone is to protect you from further injury, and I cannot let you learn this lesson through the road of hard knocks and suffering. You must wear the cone!
Now her solution of getting this thing off of her head, was challenging me to find a way to prevent wall shattering removal immediately following application. So as every farm owner knows, I reverted to the be all and end all of farm emergency products: duct tape! And I then duct taped the seam, the edges – top and bottom, inside and out. Now let’s try this all over again. And it worked. Duct tape, every horsemen’s cure all to a myriad of farm challenges!
And once again, Little Miss Princess was horrified her solution was not working for her any longer.
Gennevieve clumsily suffered through the next ten days with the cone. Stories will follow of her plotting with the cat, the humiliation suffered from the laughter of the horses, and the joy of scaring the Blue Jays, all in the attempts to win a victory once again over the cone!