Tinkle Tale

Last weekend I was humbled by the indelicate task of retrieving a specimen of Abby’s urine. I’m sharing this because if you’ve been a reader for even a short time, you know how glamorous my life is and this is no doubt the kind of captivating story that keeps you coming back. Normally the patient, experienced vet techs get urine samples but Abby went on strike and refused to pee. She was probably mad because she thought we were merely taking a walk, when instead we were going to the vet. It’s right across the street from my apartment so we stroll over as it’s easier than loading her into the car, where she pants and chirps and sheds 10 layers of fluff. Now we’ve taken the walk enough times that she knows a certain direction equals vet time so the next time we go, I’ll probably have to tie a piece of bacon to a string and hang it in front of her face to coax her.

You’re probably wondering how one retrieves urine from a hound, so let me tell you. The vet gave me a fancy plastic tray with lots of convenient little divots for urine to pool in. You simply follow your pup and in one swift movement, thrust the tray under her booty as she expels. Because I’m a hard-headed eejit, I didn’t think that would work and why would I assume that experts knew what they were talking about anyway? Instead I tried shoving the tray in from the side. I anxiously pulled it out from under her to find only a few strands of booty fluff. This happened on a morning when a phone company technician was parked right by the potty area. The look he gave me as I performed the odd ritual made my face burn with humiliation.

The next morning I tried again using the technique the vet tech suggested. I had to sort of lift Abby’s big fluffy tail to get the tray positioned properly. She turned her head around and looked at me like, “What in God’s name are you doing woman?” but happily filled the tray with revolting pools of pee pee. I was so excited that I jumped up but then remembered the shame I’d felt the day before when I was being watched. I calmly looked around and saw no witnesses, after which I skipped inside to pour the specimen into a cup.

The reason I needed to collect urine was Abby had been begging to go out over and over, even when she’d already done her business. I thought she might have a UTI but the specimen revealed no problems. No doubt she was just torturing me for her own amusement.

This post can’t just be about piss so I’ll also mention that I went to the fabric store last week and was shocked to find that it had been totally renovated. I hadn’t been literally in months because I decided not to allow myself to buy anymore fabric until I used some of my stash. Still, I feel like I should’ve been notified about the changes and sent a detailed layout of the new floor plan so I could study it and not feel so at odds in what normally feels like home. The reason I broke my fabric store fast was to get embroidery floss for this adorable pattern, which I plan to hang in my bathroom. I’ve only ever cross stitched but the pattern Web site has great how-to videos so I’m excited to give it a whirl.

Edited to add: I feel compelled to come clean and tell you that I also bought fabric at the fabric store. I had seen this adorable pear print on Flickr & just couldn’t resist. And it was on sale! Do you see now why I can’t go often?

Pear Fabric

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One Response to “Tinkle Tale”

  1. Amy Says:

    I can’t tell you how many urine samples I collected from two kidney-affected dogs, and fluffy Casper was probably very similar to fluffy-Abbs! It’s a lot easier to see what’s going on with a greyhound. I’m glad it worked the second time… You will be an expert now!

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