I shoulda been a vet

It has been quite a while since I've felt the sense of accomplishment I do at this moment. When the vet told me to procure a urine sample from Iggy, my fairly ferocious tom cat, I thought he had to be kidding. Simple, he said, put Saran wrap over the cat litter, and when he pees, suck up the urine with a syringe and squirt it into a specimen bottle.

No way was that going to work.

But it did. It took a while, with Iggy hopping in and out of the box several times, freaked out by the smooth surface, and we were pretty sure he would end up peeing elsewhere. But finally he peed—on the Saran wrap. I schlupped it up with the syringe and schlepped it over to the vet, beaming with pride. Much confusion over charts ensued, since Ziggy, a black Lab, was awaiting his appointment, while Iggy's urine was sitting on the counter.

It was only a little deflating to learn that I had saved myself just $23. I'm not sure I believe it. The vet had told me that if I couldn't procure the specimen myself, he would anesthetize Iggy and insert a catheter to get it. Really? Anesthesia and a catheter for only $23? I've been paying way too much for my own medical care.