Shiners and Harrassment Mistakes

Alrighty folks, time to spread the holiday cheer and spend time with the parental units. In order to do so - at least for me - means packing up and flying half way across the country. Lucky me, I'm accident prone. So, what happened this time? Let me give some background on this one.

For some reason the apartment complex I live in decided that moulding around the walls at waist level was a good idea. Now, this is not your thin moulding that is usually used along the ceilings, but instead juts out from the wall about two to three inches. I was, in preparation of packing the evening before leaving for the airport, shifting laundry. Somehow, I managed to misjudge the distance between the corner of the moulding and my eyeball, the result being a nice shiner around my right eye. Lucky me.

This bruise - and I'm half-convinced of this - is possibly the reason I was bumped up to first class on my second flight. The man sitting next to me was quite insistent on talking to me, the conversation taking this awkward turn:

Guy: So, what do you do for a living? *cheesey grin*
Me: Uh, I'm a vet assistant. *holds book up higher*
Guy: Oh, you help veterans?
Me: No, I'm a veterinary assistant.
Guy: Oh, cool. Do you like snakes? *leans closer, starting to dig around in his pants*
Me: Excuse me?? O_O;;
Guy: *pulls out iPhone* This is my python. His name is Monty.
Me: Oh...Oh, he's handsome...*buries face in book for the rest of the flight*

Wanted: Human Obedience Classes

It has suddenly occurred to me - ok, reoccurred - that humans are insufferably rude. A great example of this was the woman today that came in with her young son to pick up medications for their cat. While the mother gave us the evil eye waited in line for the receptionist to assist her, she pointed out our small Christmas tree in the back of the lobby to her son. The demon boy proceeded to toddle over to it and unwrap every single gift under the branches. The gifts placed there were simply for decoration, however there were approximately twenty of them in total, all of which had to be re-wrapped and placed back under the small tree. The best part? She watched the boy while he did it and encouraged him. Seriously, why are there no laws against these people breeding??

Just a Little Extra-Special

I came across this video, while just surfing the web, about a cat with cerebellar hypoplasia. This disease is caused by the cerebellum not being fully developed by the time the cat is born. Symptoms usually appear immediately, though it is not life threatening. These cats need no special care, except maybe the occasional catch when they fall off the sofa. They live a long happy, healthy life with no side-effects except some balance issues. In short, they're just a little extra-special. So, please click the link and see this inspiring story. This is Charlie

Pandemic of Dumb-Dumb Syndrome Continues to Worsen

It's recently come to my attention that no one listens to anyone else, at least when it comes to truly listening. This usually occurs when someone sings a wrong lyric in a song (i.e. "Hold me closer, Tony Danza," or "Lock the cat box"), but it has really started occurring with one particular word that we come across a lot at work. And no, it's not a complicated word like aminophyline (am-in-off-o-lin) or cefpdoxime (seph-puh-dox-ih-mee). It is, in fact, the word, spay. Now, I know what you're thinking. How can someone muck up a four letter word that's plain as day to know how to pronounce? In order to answer that I must first go into the different tenses of the word, and you in the back pouting about the language lesson, sit up and pay attention please.

There are very few variations of the word, "spay," including spayed (ex: My dog was recently spayed.), spaying (ex: Dr. Husband is in the middle of spaying that cat) and the word spay itself (def: a surgical procedure where the ovaries and uterus are removed, also known as an ovariohysterectomy [OHE]).

Now, seeing that there are those few variations of the word, how is it that not one, but several people can get it wrong? The best example I can provide happens - without fail - only on the telephone with people. The most common sentence the mistake is used in? "Yeah, I'd like to set up an appointment to get my (cat/dog) spayeded." Spayded. Yes, that's right, I said it. The fact that someone would use a past tense with an additional -ed on the end is appalling, especially when the word is so freakin' simple. I'm aware that I'm a grammar Nazi, but I could forgive this if it had just been one person. However, there's been a minimum of ten people I have heard this from, varying from white trash to upper middle class. Really folks? Really? I am horrified that the only thing I can do is attempt to subtly correct them and sit back with my face in my palm. I know not all pet owners know what IMHA (immune mediated hemolytic anemia) is, etc, etc. But, and I am begging everyone to do this for their daily lives and not just vet clinic visits, be aware of what you are saying when it comes out of your mouth. It doesn't even matter what it is that you're saying. If you're not sure, don't say it or ask someone about it. Hell, for words you're not sure how to use right there's this thing that's been around for forever called a dictionary. Use it.

Free At Last

Unfortunately today is a more somber post.

On Tuesday, December 5th, 2011, a particularly heart-wrenching case came in to us for an appointment. The patient was a blind cat that was fifteen years of age, brought in due to not eating for approximately two to three days. Upon arrival, the cat was open-mouth breathing - this is a behavior seen only in very stressed cats or those that are having difficulty breathing - which the owners chalked up to the car ride (the cat rarely left its home). Auscultation (listening) of lung and heart sounds indicated fluid in the thorax (chest), and radiographs were ordered to see if she had an enlarged heart along with fluid around her lungs.

During the x-rays, the cat began having trouble breathing. Another assistant and I were attempting to get a ventral/dorsal (vd) view - this means we were trying to get the picture to show her from her belly through to her spine so that her ribs all lined up over top of each other - when the cat began to panic and turn purple. During this panic, I was bitten on one of my hands before we were able to get her into the surgical suite to be put on oxygen therapy. Two minutes later, she passed away on the table from congestive heart failure (CHF).

This is not the worst part of the story. This poor cat was not up to date on any of her vaccines, including rabies. Because she bit an unvaccinated employee, the health department was contacted and they requested that the cat's head be sent off to be tested for rabies. As horrible as it sounds, currently the only way we have of testing an animal for rabies is to sample the brain tissue - this is where the rabies virus lives in infected animals - and that means beheading the patient.

For all the pain and suffering wrought on that day for those owners, I would truly like to say that I am sorry. I am sorry that your beloved pet was ill, and that in her panic for survival she lashed out due to instinct and it took away your ability to take her remains with you to bury her with your other lost pets. It was difficult to witness, and so I cannot even imagine the grief you are going through because of this incident. The most I can offer is the reassurance that she is no longer suffering. There is no congestive heart failure in heaven.

And so, in her honor, I am posting The Rainbow Bridge:

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

 
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.... 

Author unknown...

In parting words, I simply would like to remind owners to please keep your pets up to date on vaccines - especially rabies (it's the law, folks) - so as to minimize grief and stress should something like this occur.

Unexpected Expectations

Ok, I have to start by saying one thing: If you're into recreational drug use, don't involve your dog, cat, fish, parrot, albatross, or any other pet you may have lurking around your home (knowingly or otherwise). It simply comes down to this: just because you enjoy your high, buzz, or whatever you want to call it, doesn't mean your pet will. In fact, this could have dire consequences (surprise!). So, with all the holiday pancreatitis, foreign body obstructions, and ever holly-jolly hemorrhagic gastroenteritis (HGE) - it even comes in Christmas colors, just not the right shades or scent - why am I nattering on about drug use and pets? 

I present to you Exhibit A: On December 2nd, 2011 a four year old male pug was brought in for severe lethargy during our morning appointment hours. Immediately Dr. Paranoid orders our most complete chemistry panel of bloodwork, as well as a set of radiographs (x-rays, people). Upon reading the results of both, she orders a complete blood cell count (CBC), the results of which are rather boring as well. 

Just as our Tech O' the Day is getting ready to place an IV catheter - on the off chance that it may  help the poor pup feel better, as Dr. Paranoid lost the game of Stump the Expert on this case - the owner decides to 'fess up. The dog had ingested pot. That's right, folks, pot. Marijuana, chronic, Mary Jane, you got it. With her hands the owner shows the approximate amount the dog ate, which was enough to cover the palm of the average adult human being. And it gets better, too. 

From what the owner relayed, she was visiting from Michigan and had left her "prescription" on the coffee table to go get a drink before partaking. When she returned, the green was gone and the dog had that guilty look - you know how they do.

And so, after a few minutes research - and an unnecessary amount of the owner's money spent due to a case of severe Save My Own Skin syndrome - it was concluded that the pug would most likely spend the rest of the day, if not also part of the next, being very relaxed. Oh, and the owner was advised that he may be a tad extra hungry as well. 

Letters To Antagonists

Yes, it's been a while since I've had a direct rant to certain persons I've had to deal with in the real world and it's time once again to make some scathing remarks! So, let's get down to business, shall we?

Dear Mr. Nosenseatall,
I'd just like to say that, while you may be king of your castle at home, that doesn't mean you can rule the dog park with an iron fist and yet not help referee the four-legged heathens. I am well aware that your weimaraner is still just a puppy, however that does not excuse you from teaching him manners when it comes to playtime. Of all people there, I am one of the most aware of how puppies act. However, that also means that I am well aware of how the owner should act as well. I don't care if you do have a prosthetic leg, you are responsible for your dog that you let antagonize - of all breeds - a pitbull. My pitbull. It's really no wonder why Tyson kicked your dog's ass, if you think about it. He did the right thing, trying to get away from the reeree you call your dog when he'd had enough. But no. Instead your pup kept picking at him and you did nothing but watch when my dog was clearly getting upset. Tyson is a very tolerant dog, he lets my other two beat up on him all the time! Your dog pushed him to his limit, and then you got upset with me when I didn't get there, "fast enough," for your liking. News flash: I was on the opposite side of the park prying a woodchip from Keller's mouth and sprinted over to yours and my dog as soon as I realised what was happening. I DO NOT appreciate you getting in my face because I, "had the audacity to bring a vicious pit to the park." Audacity? Really? The park is for everyone, and your dog is the one that started it. If anyone should be upset, it's me. So hobble along, and try some obedience for your jerkwad of a dog.

To Ms. Signsdo Notapply,
It is, and has been for the entire time you've used us for your veterinary care, that you have no respect for what we do, nor do you care about our business hours. Every time we see you, you're here several minutes before we open, or several minutes after we close and each time you're more rude than before. I understand your fifteen year old maltese was sick, and I'm very sorry for your loss. That, however, does not excuse you from being a snot to the receptionist when she hands you your receipt and you see an after-hours emergency fee. Let me break it down for you: you walked in the door at 1801 - that's 6:01pm - and we were closed according to the signs listing our business hours (I'd like to point out that we have multiple signs, including the GIANT RED FLASHING ONE just outside of our parking lot). Not only that, but you came in for your dog to be seen, not to pick up medications or even from grooming or doggy day care. That means you are an after-hours emergency and thus you are charged as such. We also do not appreciate you doing this not only on a Friday night - it's ok, none of us that work there have lives or anything at home - but you also insisted she stay through the weekend, despite Dr. Husband AND Dr. Paranoid insisting that you take her to the emergency clinic for the dog's own health and well-being. Thanks. Now we have to watch your dog die slowly over the course of three days, hoping against hope that we could restore her quality of life before you call half an hour before closing yesterday to tell us you'd rather we put her to sleep and that you'll be there to be with her during it in forty-five minutes. 'Scuse me? But didn't we go over this on Friday? Oh, wait, silly me. The rules and policies obviously do not apply to you. Apparently your parents were beyond teaching you manners. More's the pity.



That's the end of my rant for today. I'd like to post an update to my menagerie, as we have a new member! That's right, the aforementioned Tyson is the newest addition to our home. He's a ten month old pitbull puppy, just chock full of lovin's and patience. He's also getting neutered today. =D

Panty Pate Anyone?

Ah, the week of Thanksgiving. Christmas commercials have been playing for nearly two months now, and it's only a matter of time before we're booked with emergency exploratory surgeries. In fact, it's already started early this year. The victim this week was a poor little pit puppy who decided that Mom's underwear looked particularly appetizing. Many times in large dog breeds this can be fixed with a hairball remedy gel (copious amounts, of course) and subcutaneous fluids to help get the bowels moving along. A good example of this is the Doberman that comes in and poops a sock every time we see her. This poor puppy was not so lucky.

After placing an IV catheter that morning, having her on fluids for a few hours, and poking her in the butt (ok, the thigh muscle) with morphine, she was taken outside to vomit - as morphine will most times make them do - as the surgery suite was prepared for her. Lo and behold the assistant that had taken her out came back in, grabbed a pair of gloves, and went back outside only to return with two of the three pairs the dog had swallowed covered in stool. Luckily for her, the fluids had caused her bowels to keep working which allowed for her to excrete the panties, the last pair of which she pooped out right before going home that day. Close call for a young pup. The owner, as of last update, did not want the underwear returned.

So what is our lesson here? 1) Underwear is apparently quite tasty, though not recommended for consumption. 2) Pets should be supervised, unless one wants to learn a $1000+ lesson. Youch!

Keller's Korner 2

At the behest of a few friends and family members that want to see updates of Keller, I have decided to post a before and after set of photos. Here in the first photo he is about six weeks old and sick with distemper. It was taken the first day I brought him home and you can see that he is napping, as he was postictal - meaning he had just had a seizure and was recovering from it. (I apologize for any inability to see him, as my camera has no flash and he's a black dog. I did my best, I promise!)

This second shot was taken back in late September, Drover's feet are bandaged - if you look closely on the left side you can see his purple bandage some - due to my idiot roommate taking him for a hike that was waaaaaay too long and his feet were raw from it. Keller is dutifully playing the best friend and comforting him while still managing to rock that bandana. Awwwwww. 

Here he is at the age of five months, losing baby teeth, begging for attention and being the all around pain that all puppies are, yet we all love them for being so. He is, in fact, doing so well that next month he's scheduled to be neutered. Sorry, buddy.

I'd like to thank my coworkers for all the help and support they've given me while helping to raise this little guy and keep him healthy. Though he doesn't know it, I'd also like to thank Drover for assisting in teaching appropriate play and leading by example in obedience class - even if the only command Keller knows is "sit" no matter how hard we try to teach him others. And last, but certainly not least, I'd like to thank Chris for all the help, support, and dog park trips he's taken the boys on while I'm on shift at work. I don't know what I'd do without you guys!

A Chronic Case of the Oops

Recently we've been doing a lot of emergency exploratory surgeries - that's right folks, it's the holidays to 'tis the season for dietary indiscretion! The rise in these incidents has resulted in several interesting stories that are just dying to be shared. There's even one sitting in the back row waving its hand and whispering desperately, "Pick me, pick me!" You all know what I'm talking about, so don't pretend I'm crazy. Moving on:

Whose Could Those Be?
It's a blustery Tuesday night after hours. The clinic has been closed for thirty minutes, the only sounds a consistent beeping of the EKG and occasional murmur for a surgical instrument. Upon the metal table, the coolness of the steel buffered by a heating pad sandwiched hastily between two holey potty pads, lay a young female golden retriever. At the moment, Dr. Husband is diligently working a piece of material from a small incision made in the dog's duodenum. Grasping the cloth firmly in both hands, the veterinarian holds aloft his prize.

Dr. Husband: It looks like a....rather large pair of ladies underwear.
Technician: Uh, Dr. Husband? *points to the surgery suite's window*
Dr. Husband: *spies the rather large lady glaring in and whispers* Is that the owner?

Technician: Yup.


Severe Reprimands
 For those that know the owners of the clinic I work for, it is well known that Dr. Wife is difficult to upset. Her demeanor is consistently calm, cool, and collected. Even when angered, that is no true wrath except on extremely rare occasions. A great example of this happened upon a Friday night in midsummer. One of the golden retrievers they had recently spayed was brought in for severe vomiting and a lack of bowel movements. These two symptoms are consistent with a foreign body obstruction, and thus there we were an hour after closing. Dr. Husband has pulled what appears to be a collar from the bowels of his own silly dog, and asks for Dr. Wife to be called with the results of the still-in-progress surgery. This is the ensuing conversation:

Dr. Wife:  Did we manage to find anything?
Me: Yeah, it looks like she ate part of a collar.
Dr. Wife: Oh...Bad dog. Ok, well, have a good night! *click*

I Like The Berber, But In The French Cut
There are many days at my job when I can't help but wonder how animals manage to not only eat some of the things we find in them, but also enjoy doing so. One case was that of a pitbull that ate a few square feet of Berber carpeting, the diagnosis and decision to surgitate being made when she started vomiting most of it back up. After severing most of it so she could swallow it back down and allow us to remove it, we hurriedly prepped the poor pup for surgery, her parents watching worriedly over our shoulders the entire time. The clinic has an open door policy, meaning our clients are allowed to see any room in the clinic they please and are even welcome to watch surgeries on their pets, which this dog's owners elected to do. Dr. Husband has just removed the last of the carpet and is doing a last cursory check for any remaining pieces of the obstruction.

Patient's Mom: Thank God all she ate was the carpet.
Dr. Husband: *pulls one more item from the dog's bowel and unravels it for all to see*
Patient's Dad: Look, honey. Your good thong!

I love my job.

Her Way Or...Her Way

Most days that I come in contact with children - be it at work or on my own time - I find that children are getting away with more and more. A prime example is naming pets. When I was a kid - and yes, I am aware that this is going to sound like one of those infamous Grandpa's Tall Tales about, "The Good Ol' Days" - kids were allowed to name pets within reason. We were allowed to pick names like Fido, Princess, and Spike as long as they fit the pet. It was about finding their ideal name, factoring in personality traits and such. There was a method to it...somewhat. Nowadays? Things like this happen:

Client: Emma's not been feeling well lately, she's been going outside her litter box.
Dr. Paranoid: *comes in flipping through the patient's file* Hello, there. Hi, Emma...Oh, Emma's really a boy!
Client: *makes panicked ixnay Emma's an oybay motions*
Client's Young Daughter: Emma's a girl! If Emma were a boy, she'd have a boy name! Emma's a girl name, so she's a girl! *pouts*
Dr. Paranoid/Me: O_O;;
Client: She, uh, gets upset if you tell her the cat's male.

You've Been In The Veterinary Field Too Long When:

- Conversations concerning a dog's sperm and how, "funky," it was seems perfectly normal.
- Handling vicious animals no longer phases you in any way.
- You have enough scars to win in a comparison contest against Vietnam veterans.
- You begin to use words like, "hemotomatuh," to describe large bruises.
- The vast majority of your wardrobe consists of scrubs (various holiday prints optional).
- You think nothing of carrying eighteen bags of groceries in all at once now that your strength has increased from hauling hundred pound dogs alone on a daily basis.
- Every time your dog chews something they're not supposed to, you immediately fear a foreign body and over-react.
- You use pancreatitis as an excuse to keep people from giving your pets human food.
- You cringe at the sight of an un-neutered dog and have to resist the urge to lecture the owner(s) about the health risks of intact pets (the pets' health, not the owners').
- You know exactly what, how, and duration of medications for 50+ conditions and have already gotten them ready by the time the DVM is finished doing just the exam.
- Unjamming an x-ray processor is part of every day life.
- You forget your friends have no idea what things like pyometra, hemorrhagic gastroenteritis, and ehrlichia are.
- You ignore the weird looks friends give you when you use those terms and let them chalk it up to you being overworked.
- Your parents refer to you as things like, "The Cat Wrangler," or, "The Canine Rodeo Rider."
- You can no longer smell when anal glands have been expressed on/by/near you.
- The most interesting parts of your day are not dinner-table appropriate.
- (Last but not least) You write a blog about your job because the only other people that understand the humor in it are your coworkers.

Keller's Korner

Ok, so I am well aware that it's been a while since I posted before today and I am dedicating this post to the rescue puppy from July/August. Since it's been so long, I'm going to post the nutshell version.

1) Rescue Pup's illness was - in fact - distemper. *100 brownie points to those of you who guessed it*
2) With the combined brain power of the clinic staff, he was dubbed Keller due to his lack of hearing.
3) Keller's hearing has fully returned.
4) He has also made a full recovery, having only had a total of four seizures during the neurological stage of the disease (I'll be posting a disease of the week from now on, starting with distemper).
5) For those of you wondering about his adoption, well, you're reading the words of his mother. (I know, I'm such a sucker)
6) Keller should continue to do well for the rest of his life, the only side effects of the virus being hyperkeratinization of his toe pads and nose - meaning they could become hard and crusty looking - and/or encephalitis as an geriatric dog.

It was a long and expensive road to get him here, but I don't regret it one bit. Keller and Drover - my corgi - are best buddies and now that he's healthy and completely out of the woods we are all settling into life as a menagerie. I find that it just goes to show that while one may make a decision out of anger, it will always have the potential to reap astounding rewards.

Secrets of the Tennis Ball

Things I have learned from my dogs:

- Anyone can do anything with the right motivation.
- Enlisting a cat's help is never a bad idea when kibble's involved.
- Teamwork is key to getting things you're not supposed to have.
- Everything is edible.
- Rolling in something smelly in the yard is fun; the ensuing bath is not.
- Playing fetch never gets old.
- Sibling rivalry can be interspecies.
- Sad puppy eyes is a sure way to escape punishment every time.
- Obedience is for suckers.
- Rawhides are to be hoarded and then used to club the other dogs in the face when they're least suspecting.
- Stealing laundry and leaving it in the kennel is highly entertaining.
- The cat is The World's Greatest Squeaky Toy.
- The World's Greatest Squeaky Toy often leaks air, so ignore that hissing sound.
- When told no, do it anyway.
- Taking the blame for others' naughty deeds is a sure way to win lots of sympathy and pettin's.
- Child locks on windows are important.
- Rules are made to be broken; the furniture is made to be laid on no matter what anyone says.
- Begging for table scraps is easy; being cute enough to get table scraps is talent and determination.

Secrets of the Litter Box

Things I have learned from my cat:

- Sometimes it's ok to be retarded.
- Being aloof isn't rude, it's a way to keep interest and make people want your attention.
- There's nothing wrong with claiming someone else's spot as your own, especially if it's already warm.
- When in doubt, look adorable.
- All you need to get your point across is the right murderous glare.
- The cheapest toys are always the most entertaining.
- Talking with your mouth full is merely multitasking.
- There is always a way to get into the food bin.
- Patience is a virtue; using it to scare the shit out of someone never gets old.
- Anyone can come when called, but showing up at the most inconvenient times is an art-form.
- Lint roller companies will never go out of business.
- Nothing small and put away is safe from prying paws.
- One doesn't have to be intoxicated to make strange sounds in the night.
- Freeloading is easy and has many rewards.
- If one is in need of alone time, it never fails to become a screaming ball of on-end fur with teeth and claws.

A Journey of One Becomes a Journey of Punishment

Alright, so I know it's been quite a while since I've posted, however I get to make the excuse of being on vacation. During this vacation I got to spend time with my sister and her husband and two little boys (ages three and one). My nephew that is three, as I found out, has already discovered himself - if you know what I mean...>_> It was during one night at their apartment that I was watching a movie - the boys were being bathed by their dad - and J.J. (the three year old) came running out into the living room 100% naked. This was the ensuing conversation:

J.J.: See these? *points to crotch*
Me: *puts hand beside eye, so as to block the image)Yes, I see.
J.J.: These are my boy parts.
Me: Yes, J.J., I know.
J.J.: Can I see your girl parts?
J.J.'s Mom: *SPANK*
J.J.: O_O *runs off crying*
Me: *stares, trying not to laugh*
J.J.'s Mom: It's ok, you can laugh. He's three, it's not like he'll remember this when he's older.

Snot Nosed Brats and Temper Tantrums

Ok, so it's been four days since I've had my latest foster kid, and - for those of you holding your breath and on the edge of your seats from suspense - I am not euthanizing him. The little twerp is making a great recovery having been dewormed - he was loaded with hooks and rounds (intestinal parasites, folks, that your pets' heartworm preventative should be taking care of monthly *hinthintwinkwink*) as well as had some coccidia ( a parasitic bacteria that's relatively common) - and the use of his front legs has drastically improved now that he's getting a high calorie diet and isn't being sucked dry, nutritionally speaking. The kicker? The squirt has developed an upper respiratory infection. Am I surprised? Not in the least. Does he appreciate us suctioning his nasal passages several times a day? Not one stinking bit, but we do it anyways rather than bear looking at him with green snot dribbling down his face. Luckily we had already started him on antibiotics on Monday, so the URI is being taken care of. Now the challenge will be finding the pup a home, which is not as easy as it sounds. Utter joy.

Now onto the midweek wtf-ery. I'm unsure as to why so many clients have decided that getting nasty with employees on the phone is a good idea, but it's not. The most recent example happened yesterday afternoon. My coworker, our afternoon receptionist in training, answered the call of a client that had recently moved. After kindly telling the client that we don't work directly with 1-800-PetMeds or any other discount veterinary pharmacy website, but that we do price match to the site of their choice and would be willing to ship the medication they wanted, he proceeded to chew her out loudly. Now, mind you, I was sitting on the opposite side of the front desk - approximately six feet away - and could hear the vulgar names he was calling this poor girl. Not only did he resort to that childish behavior, but when she couldn't find his file on the shelf and asked him to hold for just a moment while she went to check other spots it may have been for various reasons he proceeded to threaten to call the BBB - Better Business Bureau - and report us for this.

Now, I ask you, how rational was this? Was it really necessary to throw such a fit when asked to hold for a moment so someone could find your file and be able to look at what you're wanting so as to ensure accuracy? I would certainly like to hear both sides of the conversation between you and the BBB when you state that you want to turn someone in for asking you to wait while they locate your file because they want to send the correct medication with correct instructions and the correct number in the bottle. I hope they laugh you off the phone, you jerk.

Moving onto the PetMeds topic. If your vet allows online veterinary pharmacies to fill your prescriptions, they're flat out morons. Online pharmacies buy drugs in bulk, so when you get them your pets' prescription may be expired or even the wrong thing. There is no guarantee that the medication you're ordering online - unless your vet's office has its own online pharmacy - is correct, it may even be wrong enough to harm your pet. These errors are why the clinic I work at will not work directly with online veterinary pharmacies other than the one we are partnered with through our website. Instead, we price match to the online pharmacy of our clients' choice so as to ensure their pets are getting the actual products they need and the clients are mollified by us willing to be flexible on our prices. So, to the people that say, "Oh, I get mine off of (insert vet pharmacy website)," I say to you: That's a lot of money to spend in the long run on something that could hurt your pet due to your penny pinching. I more than understand that medications are expensive, even for pets, but is it really worth your pets lives to save a few bucks?

Really??

Let me just say, once and for all, that people are a*sholes. This is especially to the woman yesterday that decided to exploit our clinic. To bring in a sick puppy, state you've been taking care of him for two days but can't any longer and that he needs to be seen, then stand at my front desk in front of my clients and keep saying, "I know he needs to be looked at, but I can't take care of him. I already have four dogs at home, if someone could just take him..." is to pressure us into taking the dog. So, Jerkwad of the Decade, I thank you for pissing me off with that BS to the point that I had you sign him over to me despite the fact that I already have three dogs, two cats, and two tortoises as well as two roommates living with me, and my rescue bill is already three hundred dollars.

Why am I angry at you for this? It would have been one thing if I'd said, "Oh, he's so pitiful. I'll take him," right off the bat, but no. When no one of our staff said they could take him, you stood there making us look like jacka*ses and hypocrites because of where we work and what you had in your hands. Thank you for doing your best to make us look like heartless b*stards if someone didn't take him, because, as everyone knows, veterinary staff gets a discount so they MUST have oodles of spare money to take in sick puppies. I would also like to thank you for making me the bad guy that has to decide whether or not to euthanize the poor thing if he doesn't improve in a few days.

You think I need this kind of stress, lady? You think I enjoy spending my own money that I need for other bills on animals people shove off on me or badger me into taking? Do you really comprehend the bind you have put me in because you decided not to call us before coming in or go to a shelter instead of my place of work? No, don't smile at me as you sign the contract turning over any rights you may have had over the dog, and don't effing say thank you and act all grateful that you managed to weasel your way out of helping a puppy as you walk out my door. Frankly, you're lucky you still have all your teeth from pulling that stunt. And no, I do not wish you a good evening, so zip your lips and get out of my clinic.

Every Girl Needs A Pony

Now that I've been shoved into the back with the other assistants for part of the day, I'm rediscovering why I love my job. The last two days we've had a mastiff in whose head is high enough to rest comfortably on our countertops, and, of course, being a mastiff he's a sweet ol' lug. It was also discovered today, that he has a favorite game. This was revealed in part when I walked in to treatment to find him pushing his way between our technician's legs so as to make her sit on his back, and there he stood wagging his tail in perfect contentment while several employees made good on the photo op. This he repeated to most of the staff at, inevitably, inconvenient times making for many laughs. The real laugh, though, came when the owner picked him up with her daughter.

Client: Ok, big man, you ready to go? Need your ride along?  *the dog barks in response and waits patiently at the door as the woman plops her five year old onto his back then turns back to us* Thanks so much guys, we'll see you Monday! *strides out the door, the dog wagging his tail and little girl giggling*

Tech: ...Well, if I'd know mastiffs did that, I'd have asked for one when I was kid instead of my horse!

Me: You had a horse as a kid?

Tech: Well...Every girl needs a pony. See?

Literacy Has Become Optional

I feel as if this blog has become a rant section, however I'm unsure that I care. The last few weeks have been extremely frustrating, and a lot of it has to do with a lack of our clients ready the postings in the clinic that we put up specifically for them. Examples are as follows:

Office Hours - It is clearly posted within the clinic, on our website, business cards, and outgoing voice mail message as to what our hours are. Please do not knock on the doors and demand to be let in if the doors are locked and we have closed for the evening. I'm sorry you didn't make it in time to drop off/pick up for boarding, that is not our problem anymore. Oh, you called in your pet's medication and need to pick it up now because they're out? This excuse makes me feel the need to ask why you waited until your pet was out of medication to call in a refill when we require a 24 hour notice so as to ensure accuracy and be able to notify you of any changes or diagnostics needed. For those evenings when we've closed and not had a chance to lock the door due to clients still being in the building from us running late, please do not just waltz in the door with a sh*t-eating grin on your face. We have left the door unlocked for clients to leave, not for your lazy arse to come in and make us stay even later. We do have homes we'd like to go to, you know.

Doctor's Hours - Before you ask, no, this is not the same thing as office hours. Our clinic policy is that our doctors are seen by appointment only, unless it is an emergency. We have an appointment calendar for a reason, and when you decide it's a good idea to just plop your dog in the car and bring him in for us to update his vaccines without even bothering to give us a call, you put us behind schedule. Now, not only are the clients that were considerate enough to book a time to be seen going to be seen late, but you're also going to get angry and frustrated that we can't see you immediately. Especially when you come during our time set aside specifically for the staff to get lunches and our surgical patients taken care of. If you have the balls to do this, you have no right to get snippy with us, so please keep your snarky comments to yourself, 'cause the more rude you are as a walk-in the more we'll charge you. Oh, and that walk-in fee? You can bet your a*s that's going to be on there, too.

Holiday Hours - Surprise! Just because we're a vet clinic, doesn't mean we stay open on all holiday for your convenience. Major holidays such as July 4th, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and all those others everyone that doesn't work in food service gets off of work means most of our staff gets those days off too! The only people we have there is a skeleton staff to take care of the kennels, which means NO you cannot pick up or drop off your dog for boarding on those days. We take the time to post a notice on our front door to inform you of this in advance, so don't make yourself out to be an idiot by trying to get us to unlock the door for you when we're closed. We have families that we want to see, and we'd like to get off shift on time. Have some respect.

Staff Meeting Hours - Again, the days and hours of our staff meetings are posted for all clients to see. Our staff meetings are not just parties - though sometimes they seem like it - but are for staff education. This is for YOUR benefit! By coming to pick up your pet's medication - that can wait another hour - in the middle of our staff meeting, you are detracting from our education and benefits for your pet. During our staff meetings we turn our phones over to voice mail so that the phone will not disturb us from learning. Yes, we check messages immediately following dismissal from the meeting, and will call you back, so please don't leave a message with a lot of attitude stating that you don't know why we have that message because you know we're open. To that I have to say, turn your ears on and realise that we will make time for you when we have time for you.

I understand that as a vet clinic it seems like we're here to wait on you hand and foot, however that's not the case. We provide a service to you and your pet to keep them healthy, and we offer a variety of hours for your convenience. Please DO NOT try to get away with stupid things as listed above and in previous entries. We take a lot of time to give the best care we can, and it's not easy. Clients that don't respect our policies and are rude about them only make it that much more difficult. I'd say if you don't like it, then to find another clinic, but every clinic has its own policies. Without those policies a clinic cannot function. And, no, there will be no veterinary anarchy, but nice try.

Phone Manners

To be perfectly honest, as a receptionist I get very tired of  the phone, and this post is dedicated to the jack*sses that waste my time on the phone. The following are phone manners pet peeves:

1) When you call my clinic, hear my entire phone greeting and all I hear is *click* instead of an apology for the wrong number. This is infuriating. I have taken time out of my busy schedule to focus on you and you can't even give me an apology for a simple mistake? What, are you embarrassed??

2) If I answer the phone and ask you to please hold, I expect you to say you can or that you'll call back. I do not ask you to hold just to see how long you'll wait for me to get back to you, so please don't gush, "I just have a quick question!" My asking you to hold means I do not have time at the moment for a quick question due to other clients that were seeking help ahead of you, please do not deny them their place in line.

3) For those of you that think it's funny to just say silent when I pick up your phone call, just be glad I can't reach through the phone and strangle you.

4) If you call to ask a "quick" question or set up an appointment, I expect you to be brief. My assumption - and silly me for thinking this - is that if you don't have time to come down to the clinic to do so, then you must have other things to get to. That said, I DO NOT want nor have time to hear your entire life story, or the entire life story of your pet. Yes, Fifi having some blood in her stool is important, but her sticking her tongue out of her mouth for fourteen years is not. I have better things to do than sit at my desk on the phone with you trying to get you to quit talking and hang up politely while a line forms of clients waiting to be helped. Yes, I understand you love your pet and you think their quirks are cute, however I am being paid to help people and not to listen to stories of every pet you've had being compared to the one you have now. Phone calls to businesses are to be brief if they're not a phone conference, please keep this in mind so I don't feel the need to throw the telephone across the lobby.

5) For this one I have to ask: Why, in God's name, would you spend thirty minutes telling me your life story at the front desk, knowing full well that people are waiting to be helped and you're stopping them, only to point at the phone I'm trying to answer without being rude and say, "You should probably get that." To this I have to say: No sh*t, Sherlock! This is my top pet peeve of clients. There are no words to describe how effing rude this is. Not only are you blocking my clients from getting the assistance they're there for, but you're also preventing me from answering the phone and then telling me how to do my job. Argh!

6) To the clients that call to check on their pet every twenty minutes, when I say we will call you when we're done, I mean it. I don't lie and say that just to appease you, so please have some restraint and faith that we will keep you informed. If you're really that nervous, then please accept my offer to come visit your pet. If you decline, then you're likely to end up with me being aggravated and somewhat more rude with each call.

7) My last pet peeve with phone manners is people that don't know what they're calling for, spell it really fast, and do a lot of, "Uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm, lemme see here..." Please know what you're calling for when you phone your vet clinic. By not knowing you waste our and your time, especially when you're spelling something very fast and we have to ask you several times to repeat it. This is extremely  frustrating.

For those of you that made it through this whole thing, we appreciate your cooperation and kindness in adjusting your phone manners to not do this to your local vet clinic employee. We do our best to be efficient, polite, and get things done in a timely manner. The behaviors listed above are time consuming and prevent the staff from doing their jobs, making them look like unintelligent morons when they are, in fact, very intelligent people. Thank you kindly for your respect towards us!

Human Obedience Is Recommended

To all the pet owners out there, I would just like to say that your cooperation, understanding, liberal use of manners, and - above all - honesty is well appreciated by your veterinarian's staff. This is specifically to two women and one man (separate clients) that were extremely rude when coming in.
To Ms. Headup Herbutt:
I apologize that your only transaction was for a euthanasia in 2007, and that we inactivate all files of clients that haven't been seen in over three years. While I was trying to be considerate and keep you informed of my findings in our system and kindly explain why it was taking me so long - you see, I had to make you a new file because yours was up in the attic and I didn't want you to wait for four hours while I hunted for it - you proceeded to ream me out because it is obviously my fault that you were, in fact, NOT seen in 2009. I so greatly appreciated you calling me a moron in front of eight other clients, though I have to say that my favorite part of dealing with you was the look on your face when I politely asked you to sit down and that I would help you when you could be a civilized adult. I understand that you had an appointment with us, however the grooms and doggy day cares I was checking out were regular clients that appreciate the services we provide. No, I do not want to see your check book register from 2009 that clearly states you went to the clinic across town with a similar name that is commonly confused with us, but I thank you for sharing. I promise to you that the next time you come in and I am playing receptionist, you will by God treat me with some respect or you will get no services. Oh, I can't do that, you say? Just ask my boss that owns the clinic, and if you have a problem with it, he will be more than glad to show you the door. We have other clients that appreciate and respect us for the work we do, we do not need to tolerate your insolence and flat out assholery for a few bucks.

To Ms. Nocash Poorliar:
I would just like to say that we were kind enough to see your HBC (hit by car) dog with minimal notice from you, and that lying to us is a poor way to repay our kindness. When you came in, I greeted you with a smile and honesty about our policies, to which you replied that Dr. Husband had approved a payment agreement with you because you are on disability. It is not uncommon for him to do so, however both he and I were confused and very displeased to learn that you had lied to us about that. After your dog's fracture repair surgery to fix her pelvis when it would have been cheaper for you to put her down - and probably better for her in the long run considering these circumstances - you signed a payment agreement with the understanding that you would pay X amount the following business day. X amount was never paid, yet you decided to come in for a recheck - that you, again, didn't pay one red cent for - and told our LVT (licensed vet tech) that Dr. Husband had approved you to not pay anything until the first of August. Apparently you assumed that we don't communicate with each other, as I was on the phone at the time with another client. You then left, only for me to call you twenty minutes later to call you out on your backhanded scheme to reward out generosity. Let me just say that I hope we take legal action against you for that kind of nonsense. It's not my fault you are on disability - which, by the way, I did not notice anything wrong with you that you couldn't most likely at least work from home - have four kids, and decided that getting a dog - which, SURPRISE! costs money - was a good idea. Please do not make excuses and lie to me about your bad decisions and expect me to have sympathy. Oh, I was rude to you on the phone the last time we had a chat? You want me to be polite and stop bugging you about payment? Pay your bill, and then there will be no more problems. Many thanks.

To Mr. Fillmy Petsrx:
I'm unsure as to why you were so rude to our new receptionist today. I understand that your pet is on Cureall antibiotic, and that you need a refill, however you didn't seem to understand that we couldn't fill it for you. This was not because we didn't want to, but because you had gotten Cureall prescribed by another veterinarian. Now, as my poor coworker - that you so rudely hung up on three separate times - tried to explain to you, this is a legal issue. In order to fill a prescription for you, it must be from one of OUR clinic vets, and one of OUR clinic vets must see the pet for the condition that you need Cureall for. I understand that an exam costs you money, and that you think that we're trying to suck you dry; however, this is not a, "Gimme all your money," situation. The law states that if you want US to fill an prescription, the medication MUST be prescribed by the vet clinic filling it and the pet MUST have been seen by that vet clinic for THAT condition. We are a veterinary hospital, not a dispensery or pharmacy, though we have one. I'm unsure why that is so difficult to understand, however please do not take your frustration out on the staff of the clinic. If you have a problem with that particular law, please write your congressman. We thank you in advance for you cooperation, patience, understanding, and above all your apology to my coworker.

A Legitimate Excuse

Many of the clients I see as a receptionist are rather irritable when they come in. I mean, I'm the ditz that sits up front and asks all these questions that obviously have nothing to with the appointment they're there for - such as asking if a pet has had any coughing, sneezing, vomiting, or diarrhea, and what food they're on (it's important in cases of allergies, I swear!) - and waste their time so they don't get to see the vet right when they walk through the door. One client today, however, was very fidgety and seemed more irritable than the rest. He was very nice in explaining why he was in that kind of mood, though.
Me: I'm sorry it's taking so long, sir, but I have to go through all five of your dogs individually so the assistants and doctor can assess what's going on with whom and have a good idea what to do about it before going into the room so as not to waste your time.
Client: Oh, no, it's ok. It's not you, sweetie, I just quit cocaine cold turkey four days ago.
Me:...We'll get you going as soon as possible. *smile*

Native to America

One of the many things that irritates vet clinic staff is ignorant breeders. That is the top of the list, even above complete ignorance itself. However, on Friday we met the honorary place holder of Moron of the Decade for our clients. A woman came in with her dog that had given birth to one puppy two days before, had a still born the day before she came in, and ended up diagnosed with a retained puppy. The remedy? An emergency c-section/spay surgery. Now, what makes this so rich is that the woman was a single mother, had no spare money, and was actively breeding dogs, having nine of them at home, saying she had started a breed four years prior. I imagine she thought she was going to get rich off of this - which is a VERY common misconception; folks, I'm going to say it here and now: breeding dogs is NOT a way to make money - so she kept our staff waiting for forty-five minutes while she dealt with the grief of not being able to breed this poor dog. During the surgery the woman sat in the lobby while I played receptionist and prepared files for the next day and closed down that portion of the clinic for the night. I make it a habit to be considerate and try to make nice conversation for waiting clients, but this makes me almost reconsider:
Me: So, what breed are these guys?
Client: They're Native American Village Dogs. They're a combination of breeds native to North America, like husky, malamute, German shepherd....

Oh No She Didn't

So, recently we've acquired a sixteen year old volunteer. This girl is probably the sweetest you will ever meet, unfortunately she just doesn't get it. I'm sure you all know what I mean, in that things just don't click. Like the fact that it's inappropriate to ask to see the dog being euthanized because she just wants to pet it, or that the fractious (unpredictably vicious/evil) cat that is waking up from sedation will try to eat her face if she continues to pet it and ask if it's going to be nice. Despite all of this, we've all made efforts to train her how to hold pets for various things - since her goal is to become a veterinarian at some point - which has been a failing effort.

A prime example of this is when our tech had this girl holding onto a tiny yorkie that is so well behaved you don't have to actually restrain her. All our tech was trying to do was get a fecal sample with a loop. As she's getting ready to use it, this happens:

Volunteer: Oh my God! *takes the dog off the table, puts it back in the cage, and walks out of the treatment area*
Tech: ...Oh no, she didn't.
Me: Would you like some mortar for that brick you're about to sh*t? 'Cause, uh, yes....Yes, she did.

Privileged Information

Forward: This blog features our associate veterinarian Dr. Paranoid, her alias based on the fact that she is exceptionally paranoid about her own dogs' health as well as many other things in the practice.

The ignorance of pet owners never ceases to amaze me. For some reason, owners will give information to the vet assistants that they won't give the receptionist, and give more information to the veterinarian than they will to the assistants. Let me just say that the questions we assistants ask aren't for the hell of it or to waste your time. The more information we can give to the veterinarian before they get in the room, the better the idea they have of what to look for and the more likely an accurate diagnosis will be given. Nothing is more infuriating than to hear an owner tell you one thing and then turn around and say something completely different to the doctor.

We had a small poodle come in today for North and South Syndrome - vomiting and diarrhea - that had been going on for about two days. When asked by the receptionist and myself, "Is there anything she may have gotten into that she shouldn't have? Has she possibly eaten anything that wasn't part of her regular diet?" the client answered very firmly that, no, her dog ONLY eats her own food. This was noted in the chart and I left to grab Dr. Paranoid to do the exam. This is the conversation that ensued:
Dr. Paranoid: *while palpating the dog's abdomen* So she hasn't gotten into anything she shouldn't have?
Client: No, she....Well, she ate part of a deer carcass a couple days ago. Could that upset her tummy?
Dr. Paranoid: ...Why, yes. Yes it can.

Cry Baby

Three more parvo pups now reside in our isolation room, making a total of eight pups that were parvo positive in the last week. While helping one of our technicians get the dog ready for IV fluids, the little fuzzball starts screaming BLOODY MURDER. At this, Dr. Wife comes running around the corner in a panic.
Dr.Wife: What are you doing to him???
Technician:...Shaving his leg.

Kids These Days

Today, after several days of being home with migraines, I returned to work to play receptionist. Upon entering the clinic I heard a blaring, "MAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" from beside the log in computer. A quick glance revealed the cage to be holding a white goat, just shorter than knee height on me, gnawing on newpaper; the cage card read, "*pet's name*: NEUTER"


Seeing as this is rather normal in our clinic, I went about my business preparing files for the next day, checking in patients, and other receptionist duties. Two hours after my arrival, a client walked in the door with their dog for a quick nail trim. One of my coworkers took the dog into a room to perform the dastardly (as our patients seem to think) deed. Several moments after the door closed, this happened:

From Treatment Area: MAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Client: *horrified* Is that my dog? Why are they making my dog scream like that?!
Me: ...No, ma'am. Your dog is in one of the exam rooms. The...
From Treatment Area: MAAAAAAAAAAAA! MAAA! MAAA! MAAAAAAAAA!
Me: That sound is from a patient in the back.
At this point in time my coworker returns the dog and checks the now perturbed client out*
 Client: You need to tell whoever is making that awful noise that it's not funny! I thought that was my dog! *storms out*
Coworker:...She can't be serious.

Rude Boo-Boos

So, yesterday I made the smooth move of dropping a glass in the sink while washing it and it cutting my finger. A trip to the E.R. resulted in three stitches, a giant bandage, a tetanus update, and an antibiotic shot in each butt cheek. Of course, this happened to the middle finger of my dominant hand. Today at work, I had several clients ask what had happened. In fact, every client I came in contact with asked what happened, except one - apparently a large, neon pink bandage covering 3/4 of my finger is easy to miss. When she finally did notice, this was the conversation that happened:
Me: This is your copy of the receipt, here's your card back, and I just need this copy signed. *reaches for pen in pocket, keeping my bandaged finger out*
Client: Are...Are you giving me the finger? *horrified*
Me: No, not at all ma'am. I had stitches put in my finger last night, and it's very painful.
Client: I want to see your manager, young lady. THAT is unacceptable behavior.
I simply agree and grab Dr. Husband - any doctors mentioned will be given nicknames, and as our practice is owned by a married couple our male doctor will be referred to as Dr. Husband - to let him know what's going on. He kindly explains to the client that I do, in fact, have an injured finger. The client continues to insist that I was subtley flipping her the bird until we actually unwrap my finger and show her the stitches in it.
 Dr. Husband: See? She wasn't trying to be rude, ma'am, just trying to keep from aggravating her injury.
Client: That is DISGUSTING! You shouldn't show that kind of thing to people! *signs receipt and storms out with her pet*
Dr. Husband: *dumbfounded*
Me: ...Can, can we put my bandage back on?

Couch Ornaments

So, today I woke up and found my dog missing from the foot of the bed, his usual place of residence during the night. After calling for him and searching the house, I come into the living room to find this. *sigh* It's amazing how tender they can be. I also found out yesterday that my foster cat drools when she purrs. How did I find this out, you ask? Simple. I was holding her like a baby and petting her when I suddenly felt a long line of cat slobber dribble down my neck.  >____<

Major Rant

Ok, typically I like to put up funny things that have happened at work, but today was spent helping a ten month old pitbull deliver puppies. 1) Dogs are NOT supposed to be bred until they're TWO YEARS of age. 2) Four out of the six puppies were deceased when we managed to get them out of her. Luckily, we did a C-section and managed to save the other two.

My coworker and I offered to take the two pups, nurse them every two hours, and find homes for them when they're old enough, since this owner had absolutely NO money for the surgery/delivery assistance. So, what does she reply with? "Oh, it's ok. We already have homes for them," with friends of theirs that also have no money.  The entire clinic staff fully expects to see these pups back with parvo from not being vaccinated.

The best part of this? This same owner wanted to get the cat that I put up for adoption at the clinic. Because, you know, the fact that she has NO money to take care of her pets and isn't bright enough to keep her intact male away from her less than one year old intact female makes me trust her to adopt an animal of any sort from me.

Question of the day: Why are people so FUCKING stupid??

All Animals Are Kitties

Every few days I play receptionist at work, which results in some entertaining things being witnessed. Exhibit A:
Small Child in Lobby: Look Mommy, a kitty! *points to German Shepherd*
 
This particular incident gave me a flashback to a similar occurrence at a humane society I worked for when I still lived with my parents. The facility was state-run, catering mostly to cats and dogs, though every once in a while a few strange animals would appear, mostly fowl, to be put up for adoption. On this day we had a couple of roosters residing in dog runs across the hall from the room where animals are assessed for temperament. Right next to this room is a set of extra cages, and at the time I was cleaning them when a volunteer came strolling down the hall as one of those roosters crowed.
Volunteer: Is that a cat?
Me: *turns slowly to look at her* What?
Volunteer: Is that a cat? 'Cause I heard it earlier and I was like, 'It's not a dog, so it must be a cat!'
Me: No...It's a rooster.
Volunteer: Oh! I've never heard one of those before!
My Inner Self: You obviously never had Farmer Says as a child...

The worst part? She was 100% serious.

Blood Is Optional

Heartworm tests during annual vaccine visits are a fairly common occurance, and are strongly encouraged for all pet owners to have done at least once yearly to make sure their pets' heartworm preventative is effective, as well as check for a couple of tick borne diseases our four-legged kids may pick up. In order to do this, it required three drops of blood. Typically a couple of assistants will go into the room, draw a small amount and use it just for this. Simple, right? Not every time, especially in older animals whose veins tend to roll away from the needle under the skin, which most of us will typically make a small joke about. This was one such occurance.
Me:*after having stuck the poor dog twice and being unable to obtain a single drop of blood* You don't have any blood, darlin'!
Client: OH MY GOD!


 

So Much For That Bio Class

I work as a veterinary assistant at a local vet clinic. During our puppy packages we deworm and check fecal samples for parasites. Many of our clients accept the ensuing worm riddled stool as normal, however, this particular case was a tad different. 
Client: *on the phone several hours after her appointment* Yeah, I had my puppy in there and the vet said he had a lot of those worms? The round ones that puppies get?
Me: Yes, ma'am, round worms. They're very common in puppies, they typically get them from mom when nursing.
Client: Well, he just went potty and there's, like, a million of these things in his poo. Did the dewormer make them hatch? 'Cause I know you guys saw a lot of the eggs in the microscope.
It should be noted that this client has had several biology classes, and that when fecal samples are examined during puppy packages, we look for the eggs in the microscope. This indicates that the parasites are in the intestinal tract and are shedding eggs, not that there is only eggs in the intestinal tract.
Me: *stunned* Uh, no, ma'am. The dewormer kills the worms that he has, which makes them detach from the intestinal walls and be excreted. 
Client: Are you sure? Because there's A TON of them in there. Is he going to survive this?
Me: Yes, ma'am, I'm sure.
Client: If he doesn't, I'm holding you responsible. *hangs up*
Me: *stunned*