Mom made me go to the V-E-T yesterday. I should've known something was up when she locked me in the bedroom for a bit and then carried me downstairs. Once I saw the PTU (prisoner transport unit), I knew I was in trouble. I put up my best fight but you see, I haven't been feeling too well. I've had bad poo. I mean really bad. Mom was really worried about me so she wanted to get me checked out. The problem? I didn't leave a stool sample for her to bring to the V-E-T. I'm sorry, I'm not a poo-on-command type of guy.
Anyways, when we get to the V-E-T, I didn't want out of the PTU. Who does? We all know what's coming next: poking and prodding and getting suck with sharp needle thingies. Well, when Mom finally got me out of the PTU, I was not going to hold it in any long and pooed all over the place. This included on Mom, the V-E-T and his assistant. Yes, you can add in a monkey flinging poo joke here. I'm sorry but my tummy has been acting up and I was stuck in a PTU for hours [mom: a whole 15 minutes]. At least they got the stool sample they wanted so badly. I got a good laugh out of it 'cause they were swearing up a storm at the mess and the stink. Well, that's what they get for tormenting me.
I've got to remember this trick the next time I'm forced to go to the V-E-T.
Mom: Monkee is doing OK. The vet thinks he may have a form of IBS and gave him a cortisone shot to treat it. We'll see how he's doing over the next couple of days. Ironically, for a boy with bad poops, he managed to gain weight.