A cold rain preceeding the first morning with the under-desk fan heater while young Kirby's acclimation to cone-life continues: freak-outs over lack of peripheral vision diminishing, cone-infused reverse knee-capping of myself not. Morkie far from a calming presence, Jorkie couldn't give less of a shit if she tried. Be The Jorkie.

I feel like I have more to say though it is, at present, inaccessible. Dogchildren sustenance, then back to work; 11 days of cone-life remain.