Let me recap:
2 weeks ago, a poop upstairs near her bed (she has almost NEVER had an accident in the house in the 3 years we've had her except when she was really sick) and last weekend a poop and two pees in the house, followed by a bout of vomiting. The she started trying to eat poop outside (ewwww)
Needless to say, the Canadian and I were worried...she has never peed in the house the entire time we've had her and she never throws up. So I made an appointment with the vet for Monday. In the back of my mind all I could think about was that my last dog, Delilah, had died of cancer. We were devastated when we lost her and I was terrified that something was very very wrong with the Rotten One.
I took the Rotten One to the vet's office on Monday and he said "it could be anything" so he drew blood to run a battery of tests and asked if I would come back Wednesday for the results and also would I bring a urine sample?
Yesterday (Wednesday morning) the Canadian tried to get a urine sample but she refused to pee, instead chasing Spy Kitteh around backyard. I tried again a couple of hours later, and she just sat down and looked at me -- clearly intending to make this difficult.
Finally I headed out to take her to the vets office, hoping she'd pee along the way. Well she did -- and as I leaned over to get the pee, my sunglasses fell off and broke. Awesome. Then as I'm collecting the pee, she whirled around to poop -- and then I'm juggling the pee, trying to pick up the poop while she's wrapping her leash around my leg AND my sunglasses are in pieces.
Just as I take a couple of steps to try and throw her poop in the garbage, this woman is blocks the way, and is on her cell phone, not paying attention while her dog is lunging and snarling at Rotten -- which makes the Rotten One lunge back (remember how I'm holding a urine sample and a bag of fresh poo?) I'm trying NOT to spill the urine sample or smash poop into my clothes AND I'm trying to control my dog --- which was becoming increasingly difficult because this woman wouldn't get out of the way or control her own dog. So, I did what any normal American would do -- I screamed at her "Get off your f*#&ing phone you b%*ch and pay attention!!!!" I think there *may* have other swear words in there, but honestly, I was at the end of my rope.
I know, I know, it wasn't nice, but honestly, it drives me nuts when people just mindlessly chatter away when their dog/child/hedgehog/husband is misbehaving and wreaking havoc.
Anyway, I finally get the poop thrown away, the Rotten One under control and make it to the vet's office. He goes over the blood work with me (everything is perfect) he checks the urine sample (no issues) and tells me "Your dog is in perfect health...it could just behavioral..."
So, the diagnosis? Rotten. And you wonder why I call her the Rotten One.