Our little Coach got fixed on Monday, and not because he was broken...
My all-time favorite dog, Matt, was never fixed, but then he would have made a terrible guide dog. He once dropped a piece of fried chicken because I told him to. There were times, though, when the scent of a female in the air transformed him into a different animal, and he would not obey me, not at all. So I understand why the fixing is necessary.
What I don't understand is how Coach can have such a perfect indifference to the event, even after we make him wear this inverted plastic dunce cap all day. His disposition is sweeter than ever, and I do not believe it's a sudden hormonal thing--his is just a chronically sweet little dog, the same as ever.
His perpetual good nature is starting wear thin on me. I am perfectly prepared to show him some understanding and sympathy, male to male, if only he would quit grinning.
But no, he couldn't be happier about his liberated appendages or his silly neck cone.
Maybe there is a lesson here, but I don't want to learn it.