"Open the door, you have to come see this!" I darted outside to reconnect with my bloody and battered best friend and there he was stuck in the yard between a rock and a picnic table, literally. Although Jumbo peered out of the tiniest eyes that I have ever seen, I know he blames me for all this pain. I wanted to crawl in that cone and take his pain away.
Maybe it is my guilt or overactive imagination but the cone continues to pop into my head. I'm the one that needs the cone. I need it to block out the noise that has become the realty surrounding my profession. A cone so I can sit and savor every word the 30 unique personalities share because they value my opinion. One to focus me on the most important tasks of the day and bounce me off a wall when I start riffling through boxes left by someone I don't even know. A dome of solitude when the complaining becomes too much. Jumbo doesn't know how truly lucky he is.
In a week, when his world becomes whole again, I'm sure he'll spend a little more time at the water bowl, running up and down the stairs, and sneaking food off the kids plates. He'll remember how good he has it. Maybe sometimes it would be good for all of us to wear a cone, so we can bask in the joys of our world when we finally take it off.