Sweet EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer has had some health issues of late. The most annoying one (for all of us) is a stomach problem — she has issues with digesting her food and she burps louder and longer than a longshoreman. Poor Em!
She willingly went to the vet’s because she likes it there. I don’t like it at my doctor’s office, but I’m not a dog. Anyway, the vet is aware of the issue; Em’s been on meds prior to this visit. But, the problem returns. He suggests obtaining a blood sample, giving her her annual shots (which were due), refilling her heartworm and flea prevention meds, and oh, here’s a plastic tray…please get a sample of her urine.
This morning bright (well, actually it was dark) and early, the whole family goes out to the backyard to obtain a pee sample from EmmaLou. I was on leash and flashlight duty; Devoted Spouse had the little (and I do mean little) plastic tray at the ready. Em sniffs around, squats down, I yell at Devoted Spouse, “NOW!”, he slides the tray under her and EmmaLou jumps straight up in the air taking her precious pee with her.
Take Two: “C’mon sweetie puppy girl…pee in the cup.” Yes, dogs can get a hateful look on their faces. Finally she squatted again and we repeated the above exercise. It didn’t work the second time, either.
Devoted Spouse took EmmaLou out on her morning walk, where she peed like someone who’s had their bladder stopped up for a month. Peed all up and down the street. Did we get a sample? No…forgot the tray.
While running errands, I stopped in the vet’s office. They laughed and laughed but finally agreed I could bring her up late in the day and THEY would try the little plastic tray trick.
EmmaLou and I, meanwhile, have decided we should never speak of this barbaric intrusion into her personal life again. Sigh…