Dear Diary,
It wasn't the urgency in my eyes or the pacing back and forth by the door the minute I came back in from outside that made Mom decide I needed to see the doc.
It was more the squatting and peeing every five seconds that got her all worried. Sometimes I'd squat for minutes without moving. Like here (see me squatting below.)
I had to listen real close for familiar words.
Doctor. Vet. Buick. Go.
I was a little embarrassed about going to the vet's looking like the scruff-muffin that I was. I'd been spending a lot of time outside in the grass. After I pee, I dig a little and try to cover it up. Mom say's I'm a mess.
She keeps bringing the b word up. But all I can think of is the P word. I don't feel well. I just want to pee.
I was excited to go to the animal hospital.
Mom said I was so good and that she wishes she would have taken a picture of me while they were examining me because It was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.
She's the sick pup... not me. What kind of a sick-o would try to get a 'cute' picture of their fur baby while it's feeling like crap....
The nice lady doctor took me outside to pee. While I was peeing someone put something underneath me so that my pee wouldn't hit the ground. She said she was collecting my pee. Geesh. And I thought MOM was weird!!
I was a good girl. I didn't bite or snap or even resist when the doc massaged my belly.
Plus - good news. I'm still only 25 lb. Ha! Mom keeps telling me I'm getting to be a heavy weight. I guess I showed her. Haven't gained an ounce in the last year.
Can't say that about HER!
I got a toy for being good. It looks like a pillow, but it squeaks like a mouse.
Then I had to watch the house. What's it take for a girl to get a sick day around here?
Mom says I have a U.T.I. (whatever that is) and she wraps a pill in turkey tricks me into taking a pill every 12 hours.
Uh oh. Gotta go... Gracie.
