George gets the snip...because of the nip

George may look all floppy-ears and big brown eyes but under that Norman Rockwell facade was a nippy little monster. He had moved on from chewing socks and skirting boards, to fingers and ankles (and arms and feet and toes and knees and noses and chins) and so the vet suggested we bring him in for a...special treatment. George took it like a trooper but not before a full 10 hours of looking at me like this -

"Mum, I have a cone on my head and my boy parts are gone. I can't help but think you had something to do with this."