The $100 Poop: Don’t Read If You’re Squeamish

My mom Cathy lives on the Internet but she’s shy to the point of being ridiculous when it comes to talking about certain topics. When she got the First Dog, she had to figure out how to tell the vet that Keesha wasn’t um…doing her business…yeah, that kind of business.

Now Mom’s a pro and she knows that we dogs need time to adjust our digestive systems after we get adopted or move to a new city. But back then she was a certified cat fanatic, desperately trying to learn how to be worthy of her splendid new dog.

Mom’s also discovered that dog owners actually look for ways to discuss these solid matters.

When Cathy lived in New Mexico, for instance, she was a volunteer marshal with the Tour of the Gila bike race. She and another volunteer were posted at an intersection to stop cars from running down the bikes. Naturally she took Keesha. And, she tells me, Keesha took the opportunity to make a very large deposit during one of the traffic breaks. The other volunteer (a cute young school teacher) called out, “Feeling better now, Keesha?”

Mom wanted to hide under her own signal flag.

So she wasn’t surprised when a neighbor in New Mexico commented, “Big poop for such a small dog!” (although she really didn’t know how to respond). Or a current neighbor commented on my output with, “Wow, that’s really solid.”

Alas, I have a delicate tummy and I eat everything in sight. On Wednesday we rushed to the vet because I had produced blood along with the usual products. The vet gave me a shot (ouch!) and pills (yuk – I’ve gotten really good at spitting them out). Mom paid just over $100 for all this.

Nothing happened. Cathy emailed the vet with a frantic message and was advised to “observe” me for 24 hours. No problem. I sleep next to her while she works so she observes me all day long.

Then it happened. Perfect. I get to go back to normal food. Mom can take her gaze (and her mind) off my rear end. I still get a few horrible pills but I can deal with them. dogs cost money

Mom calls it the $100 poop. But she doesn’t complain. “At least Gracie didn’t wake me up at 2 AM for an urgent call of nature. We live on the third floor of a city apartment.”

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