For once in my relatively short life I’m glad that mom’s camera isn’t working.

Today I had to go to the vet because I have some sort of weird skin thing going on on my tummy. That and I’ve had a touch of the diarrhea lately. Mom and dad thought better safe than sorry, and before I could begin to disagree we were in the car and on our way.

I’m sure the vet is a really nice person…. really… but he just has so many requirements. Get up on the table Bogart, turn over Bogart, lets see how much you weigh in front of all of the hot bitches Bogart, now it’s time to gather a stool sample Bogart…

Wait, did he just say “gather a stool sample”? What could that mean? You’re going to stick what? – where? – when? – why?


Mom and dad said they could hear me all the way out in the waiting room and knew that the anal probing had been administered. But as always the Airedale gets the last laugh. Mom and dad thought that they wouldn’t have to “collect” a sample because they allowed the evil vet to do the anal probing? Well guess what – I was totally clean. Nothing to collect. So they just have to wait until the next time I have to poop… then go back to the vet with it in a baggie.

I win AGAIN!!!



UPDATE:  As of 6pm the “sample” has been produced, collected, and now resides on some lucky “fecal flotation” testers desk.

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