So, at the beginning of last week I became an extremely Vigorous Digger in the box, and I also started announcing my intentions with a spirited song whenever I felt "the urge" to conduct a little business, a new development.
Kitties, let me tell you that this was a Very Bad Idea, because Mommy got suspicious and started following me around the house, monitoring my rear-ward boxal output--which, as it turns out, was watery, extra extra pungent (according to Mommy, "eye-watering" how insulting is that?) and frequent.
Naturally, I got hauled off to the vet, where my dignity was violated, my innards irradiated and worst of all, I had to pee in a cup! Well not really, but I did have my pee stolen after I left it in the box. And no humiliation is complete without documentation, right?
I got the last laugh, because according to the vet I am fine; no obstructions, or stopped up pooper, or infected anal glands, and my pee is perfect! And a few days later I'm back to producing championship-quality deposits. (and a $380 vet bill, YIKES!--ed) However, the next time I eat something sketchy--like CC's
XX Poopert XX