The Bear often poos a ferociously mean glob of blood. He doesn't seem to mind. We think it is awful. Lord knows the smell of it is worse than a wig factory on fire. It's almost as if he actually enjoys leaving it for us to find, seeing as he never bothers to dig around buring it. It proudly sits on top like chocolate pudding with a cherry on top. We've experienced a difficult time in getting fresh stool samples from him (this is when having more than one cat can be aggravating--what, really, just that one thing?). We attempt this fun task every month or so without obtaining significant results. He still seems really happy, so I'm not to stressed about it anymore.
Right now there is a stool sample in the fridge. In a little plastic collection thing, which is stored in a paper bag. Sadly, the sample wasn't fresh enough, and so it sits in the fridge in its paper bag. I wonder how long it will sit in the fridge. There's a new plastic sample collector here on the table. I don't even know the proper technique to collect the bloody poo (take that literally and Britishly!). I won't bother explaining the contraption, but know that it has two parts and doesn't seem as simple as one would think. It bothers me that something as easy as scooping poo can be so difficult when given a plastic vial with an oddly shaped inner bit.
I cleaned the litterbox and am hoping the Bear takes a poop soon. I'm awfully tired. Allergies are kicking me around a bit cruelly. The Boy gets all pukey with this kind of task. He is a wonderful stay-at-home mom and does everything for the cats and a lot of chores, but he can't touch bloody gobs of poo. I find that easy. Lucky him.
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