Wearing a T-shirt

I've never worn clothes before.  Mom put me in a t shirt to keep me from chewing and licking my sutures.  She felt sorry for me in that awful cone.  I did my best hang dog so she would.  The problem was my foot would pull thru the sleeve and get caught in the body and I'd be in a pickle.  Or the sleeves would unroll and I'd step on them making it hard to walk.

Mom tried getting the shirt to fit me better (she won't take it off!).  First try was to safety pin the tail around my back.

She gathered excess material around the neck and safety pinned it on the back of my neck.

Then she gathered the front and safety pinned it so it stays closer to my chest.

Finally, she safety pinned the sleeves on both side of each of my legs to keep them from falling down.

That seems to keep it in place and I don't get into trouble.  Mom thinks I look both ridiculous and cute. But I'm leaving my sutures alone.

Mom went upstairs this morning to put some laundry on and I followed her up because she forgot to tell me to stay downstairs.  She was startled to find me there (I don't know why - I always like to dog her.  I'm a dog, after all.)  When we went downstairs, she put a sling around my chest and made me take each step one at a time while she lifted my front so I wouldn't put much pressure on my elbows.  I'm still on painkillers so I felt ok going upstairs.  She is treating me so weirdly.  As long as she puts my pills in cream cheese, I like taking them.