Saturday, August 15, 2009

Debbie's Saga

I wish that pets could speak our language, or write letters.
Instead, Debbie had to think of a more creative way to explain to me that she had a urinary tract infection.
At 5 in the morning, I felt her crawl into my bed and snuggle onto my hip. I thought, "Ahh, she's sooo warm."
I don't know how much later, I awoke to find myself lying in a soaking wet bed.
I thought I had wet the bed, but soon realized I had been peed on by my cat.

We don't have a litter box, and it had been unusual for Debbie to come inside at 2:30a.m. when I let the dog out, so I didn't rush her to the vet, thinking that maybe she just had to go potty.
The next morning, she came in at the usual time, went directly to my laundry, and peed. So off we went to Dr. Bryan.
He asked me, "Is it better to be pissed on, or pissed off?" I told him that I didn't know, since the two were practically simultaneous.
Debbie got her shot, her new kitty food (which is, in itself, due punishment for having peed on me), and is back to normal.

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