On Thursday, Silas and I loaded her into the van, trying to keep her sitting on the towel...not very successful.
The vet tech was super sweet (I love our vet office) and took Chyna outside for a urine sample. I have to say, I thought getting a urine sample from a dog, in and of itself, was a feat. This woman got the sample in a soup ladle. THAT friends, is impressive.
The sample came back with some blood in it. As the doctor was examining her, he asked - "is she spayed?"
"Of course she is - well, I'm pretty sure she is - hmm, I guess I actually don't know if she is."
I pull out my phone and start texting my sister and niece. "hey question for you. is chyna fixed???"
The vet leaves to check on something else and I sat there waiting for a text back. I'd thought that the dog had a UTI, a bladder infections, cancer and God only knows what else, but not ONCE did it cross my mind that she had her freakin' period!
And never would it occur to me that a 13 year old dog could still even have such biological happenings going on - don't dogs go into menopause??
The doctor came back into the room and said that all her counts looked good with the exception of one, which was just a tad bit low. "If she has been spayed, give me a call and we'll check some other stuff out."
Right about that time is when I realized just how dense I can be sometimes. I just took a female dog to the doctor because she was on her period...with an 8 year old boy in tow.
Next stop - PetSmart...
I've spent the latter part of my week chasing around a geriatric dog so that I can strap her Kotex on her and dodging the repeated questions from Silas about "why is she bleeding and wearing that diaper?"
Oh kid, I wish I knew...
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