Sad Little Poppies

Yesterday Shilo and I made the long trek on freeways, highways, and country roads,

passing fields, cows, and barns,

 to get here:

A couple of friends recommended this place that performs low-cost spays and neuters.  Just what I needed, after receiving an itemized price list for the procedures performed at our friendly (but expensive) vet office, where I would have paid 10 times the amount.  It took an hour to get there, but 5 hours later the pups were done and ready to be picked up.  While we waited, Shi and I ran some errands, got lost once or twice (even with navigation), and caught a movie.  A 9:40am movie.  I have always wondered who goes to the movies in the morning, but have secretly longed to try it.  Shi was sure we would be the only ones in the theater.  NOPE.

After the call to let us know the pups were ready, we headed back to pick them up.

They were soooooooo sad.  Once we arrived at home, Ava wouldn't even come out of her crate.  Jack would squeal and squeak if he moved the wrong way.

They absolutely detest the cone.  Jack more than Ava.  Probably because he knows what it's like to spend two weeks in one.  We made them sleep in them last night, and Jack had a horrible night.  Around 1 or 2 in the morning, Billy-my-hero moved down to the kitchen to sleep on the floor by Jack.  The cold, hard, wood floor, with a tiny blanket.  He didn't sleep well, either.  Seriously, he is the best.

Today Ava has been up and eating and managing surprisingly well.  Jack, however, seems extremely depressed.  He won't eat (I've even cooked him hamburger and bacon, bacon, bacon).  He won't drink.  He seems to have lost his zest for life.  (I know what you're thinking... he has!)  My poor poppies.  Hopefully Jack will perk up and find a reason to carry on.  Soon.