Yesterday was Dog’s annual Day of Terror at the Vet, and I’m pleased to report she did very well. She was poked, prodded and groped, and she suffered the indignity of a thermometer up her butt with noble grace.
True, the lower half of my jeans were covered in white fur as she circled me nervously, but all in all she did a marvelous job.
Only she didn’t pee.
Since Dog is nearly 11-years old and takes arthritis meds, Vet recommends their Senior Screening: full blood work and urine analysis. Drawing the blood was a snap. The urine, not so much.
The technician came back to the room with Dog and the empty cup. “We’re hoping you’ll have better luck at home,” she told me.
My mission – should I care to accept it – is to collect urine from Dog, put it in the little screw top jar, and drive it straight to the vet because, as the tech put it, “We prefer it fresh.”
Do I accept this mission? Of course I do. Because I’m one of those kinds of dog owners. (By the way, tomorrow is Dog’s birthday. We’re very excited.)
As I drive home, I consider the best course of action while Dog stares out the passenger window, no doubt congratulating herself on evading the dreaded pee-snatcher.
We arrive home. I leave her on the leash as we go inside the house. I collect the required items and mentally prepare myself for the task at hand.
Items to Collect Urine Sample From Dog
- A clean container with lid
- A ladle
- A whole lot of patience
The second I let Dog off her leash, she drank a lot of water. Like, an incredible amount of water.
You’d think she’d want to pee afterwards, wouldn’t you? This is what she did instead:
For three and a half hours.
Every time I heard her move or twitch, I’d grab the ladle, ready to follow her outside. No such luck. The wait continued.
Meanwhile, I spent time on Google. There are YouTube videos on how to collect urine from dogs. Did you know that? Geez. Some people will make videos of anything.
Everything I saw suggested using bowls or large containers to hold under the dog. I considered revising my plan, but I had great hopes for the ladle. I truly felt this was my best option, mainly because it kept my hands out of the line of fire. (If you read my post on cleaning a litter box, you know my feelings on this.)
Husband comes home to find me sitting on the sofa, staring at Dog, a ladle in front of me. I explain the situation.
“You’re kidding,” he said.
I wasn’t kidding.
Dog rouses from her nap and greets Husband excitedly, as it’s always a relief when family members return from their mysterious hunts. She sniffs him and gets her ears scratched. All is right with the world.
I feel the time is right for a pee. I grab the ladle, the container, and use my happy voice to call Dog outside.
“How come it has to be now?” Husband asks. “Aren’t they open tomorrow?”
“I’m not going through this again,” I tell him. Dog follows me outside.
We walk out to her favorite spot. She sniffs a bush, walks over to a shaded area… she squats… I rush up behind her and the ladle goes under. Success!
Only in my excitement, I dump half of it. But wait, the flow is still happening! I stick the ladle back under and collect more!
YES! Victory is mine!
I drive the sample to the vet and the tech congratulates me. “Way to go, Mom!” she says.
Yeah. I’m definitely one of those kinds of pet owners.