The Only Poop Story You'll Ever Read Here
If you know me at least a little, you've probably learned that I loathe conversations about bodily fluids and functions. I don't want to hear (or see!) about pooping, peeing, cycles, spitting, farting, belching...shudder. Those are not fit subjects for adult discourse.
However, I do have a poop story that, I'm willing to share. Once you know the above about me, you may find it funny.
I was supposed to take in a fecal sample of George's for testing. The first time I took her in, I went to her litter box with a baggie and scooped out some fecal matter (that sounds so much better than some crude euphemism). Unfortunately, it was too old and dry so they told me to bring a newer sample in today. They even gave me a screw on sample bottle (pretty much a pill bottle) to use.
So, this morning I went to the litter box with my sample bottle to find some fresh poop. Because it is self cleaning, I had to go to the storage area where all the poop has been scooped together. A visual inspection didn't bring to light any obvious fresh fecal specimens.
Ugh. That meant I had to poke all the poops until I found one that was somewhat soft. And by all, I mean all. I finally found one that was not completely rock hard and put it in the jar. I then washed my hands several times.
While I was scrubbing, I realized that George wasn't with me. Then, I heard the scratching of the litter. Yep, my foray into her litter box inspired her to leave two very fresh samples. Since I didn't want to have to ever do this again, I decided to dump the sample I had and get some of the fresh stuff.
I ended up trying to scoop it in to the jar but managed to get some of it smeared on the outside while I did it. So, I had to clean that off and then wash my hands a couple more times.
Every time I think about it, I want to wash them again. This must be how some OCDs start.
However, I do have a poop story that, I'm willing to share. Once you know the above about me, you may find it funny.
I was supposed to take in a fecal sample of George's for testing. The first time I took her in, I went to her litter box with a baggie and scooped out some fecal matter (that sounds so much better than some crude euphemism). Unfortunately, it was too old and dry so they told me to bring a newer sample in today. They even gave me a screw on sample bottle (pretty much a pill bottle) to use.
So, this morning I went to the litter box with my sample bottle to find some fresh poop. Because it is self cleaning, I had to go to the storage area where all the poop has been scooped together. A visual inspection didn't bring to light any obvious fresh fecal specimens.
Ugh. That meant I had to poke all the poops until I found one that was somewhat soft. And by all, I mean all. I finally found one that was not completely rock hard and put it in the jar. I then washed my hands several times.
While I was scrubbing, I realized that George wasn't with me. Then, I heard the scratching of the litter. Yep, my foray into her litter box inspired her to leave two very fresh samples. Since I didn't want to have to ever do this again, I decided to dump the sample I had and get some of the fresh stuff.
I ended up trying to scoop it in to the jar but managed to get some of it smeared on the outside while I did it. So, I had to clean that off and then wash my hands a couple more times.
Every time I think about it, I want to wash them again. This must be how some OCDs start.
