Charlie: Hey? Hey. Heeey?
Me: Oh, dear. How shall I put this? You have a…
Charlie: [quiver quiver]
Me: …a butt situation. It's not fatal! It is, however, incredibly disgusting.
Charlie: I don't know what means 'fatal'! Sounds bad, hey. But why is this on me?
Me: The cone is there to protect you from yourself. You're not supposed to lick the… unspeakable area. It's infected. It's got to… to drain. [Heave.]
Charlie: I see. I can't tend to my belowthere. Tail droop.
Me: Never mind. You'll get used to this cone before you know it. Promise!
Charlie: HEY. I was okey-dokey with the cone but what is this giant-cone bullcrap? I'm sorry for the bad language.
Me: You were still…getting to there. You're quite flexible, turns out. We needed a larger cone to keep you out of the region.
Charlie: But look. Hey. HEY. No. I can't see and I keep getting stuck.
I think I'm…
Me: I know. I'm sorry, honey. You're already deaf and mostly blind and the cat is out to get you.
Izzy: HA HA HA HA. I can murder him now, right? Come on, he's no good to you. Plus I see the towels all over the place. He's leaking awful on your stuff. Let me swipe him. Let me SWIPE HIM TO SLEEP.
Me: Back off, cat.