I work at a high-end boarding kennel. My boss, one of the three co-owners, gets a call one day from a woman asking to board her dog for a few nights. She tells the co-owner that she was referred to the kennel by her vet in Northern California. My boss asks why is she asking for a boarding kennel in Southern California.

Woman: “I want to board my dog while I’m attending my daughter’s wedding.”

Boss: “Sure! I just need to ask a few questions so we know what kennel the dog would be best in. Is the dog people-friendly?”

Woman: “Well… sometimes.”

Boss: “Is the dog pet-friendly?”

Woman: “Well… sometimes.”

Boss: “Well, has your dog bitten anyone?”

Woman: “Well… sometimes.”

Boss: “I need a yes or no so I know where to best place your dog. It’s a matter of safety and risk to the dog and my staff.”

The woman gets indignant about this

Woman: “I’d like to talk to someone else, please.”

Boss: “Ma’am, I am the owner.”

The woman hangs up. The owner goes back to her work. Not even a few minutes later, the same woman calls up again.

Woman: “F*** you, you b****! I won’t be referring you to anyone!”

The owner was left thinking, “Why is anyone going to come down from NorCal to SoCal just to board their dog?”

I work in a pet hotel/doggie day-care located inside a large corporate pet store. On my way to take my break one drizzly evening, I pass through the hotel “lobby” where a man and his son, who looks to be in his mid- to late teens, are standing. I hear the man ask the senior associate at the check-in desk if someone can help him jump his car, as the battery is dead. Since I’ve already clocked out for my break, I decide to offer to help.

I’m a woman in my early twenties.

Me: “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. I have jumper cables in my car and I’m just about to take my break. I can give you a boost, no problem.”

The man looks me up and down and then chuckles.

Man: *Condescending* “Are you sure you know how, honey?”

The son, to his credit, groans and covers his face. I stare at the man for a moment and then frown.

Me: *Annoyed* “Sir, I don’t have to help you, so you can either be rude or you can be on your way home. Which is it?”

He stares at me, startled, and then turns to the senior associate.

Man: “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?!”

Senior Associate: *Shrugging* “She’s not on company time; she can say what she wants.”

Son: “For God’s sake, Dad, it’s already raining and she’s offering to help. Just ask her nicely.”

The man looks at his son in surprise, then looks chagrined and turns back to me.

Man: “Um, we would very much appreciate your help, thank you.”

Me: “No problem. Where are you parked?”

We went out to the parking lot, and he just happened to have parked in the space across from mine, so our hoods were already lined up. I grabbed my cables while [Man] got an umbrella from his car that he graciously held over me while I hooked up the cables.

A few minutes later, they were good to go. [Man] thanked me again and apologized for his condescension while his son whispered an apology for his dad’s behavior. When I returned from my break, the senior associate (also a woman) gave me a knowing smile and a fist bump.

If you ask for help and someone offers, don’t be a jerk!

CONTENT WARNING: Death & Animal Cruelty

I work at a boarding kennel. We have two dogs come in regularly, both beautiful show-grade Borzois. One is fairly old and the other quite young.

The owners of these dogs don’t socialise much with actual people.

During a stay, the older one tragically passes away in his outside run with his brother by his side. These dogs are some of my favourites, and we are all devastated to inform the owners of their dog’s passing while they are away. We call them after we find him.

Receptionist: “Hello, Mrs. [Owner]. I’m so sorry to be making this call, but it seems [Dog] has passed away this evening. We’re so sorry.”

The receptionist then goes on to explain we had been doing rounds to check on everyone and a kennel hand had found him, and then we’d left his body until they gave us direction in what to do, and we’d moved every other nearby dog away and/or locked them inside, including his brother.

Owner: “Oh, yes. Well, he did have a heart condition. That’s what his meds were for.”

Alarm bells start ringing; we never gave him meds. The receptionist frantically looks up his file, panicking that we’d be responsible for his death, but sees no meds on file. She obviously has to tell the owners about this, in case.

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have meds on file for him.”

Owner: “Oh, yes, they were blood thinners, but we didn’t bring them with us.”

Receptionist: “Can I ask, why not? They seem pretty important!”

Owner: “Well, he was getting on a bit, and we figured it would be the easiest way to let him go.”

Yes, you read that right. These people, who had been bringing these dogs in for years, had put their dogs with us for the specific purpose of letting their elderly dog die here.

The next time they came in — because the owner refused to ban them — they had a Borzoi puppy.

The vet that I take my dog to also offers boarding. I call to get him in because I’m going to be out of town.

Me: “I’d like to board my dog the ninth through the thirteenth.”

Receptionist: “We’ve got space then. I’ll go ahead and put him down.”

I know she meant she’d write it down on the schedule, but maybe don’t use the phrase “put him down” while working at a vet’s office.

I work at a boarding kennel. On this particular morning, there are four customers in our reception area. [Customer #1] is a young girl with special needs, and her mother is with her. [Customer #2] is my hero. [Customer #3] is a bitter, mean-spirited hag.

The girl with special needs has short-cut hair that has been dyed in a mix of pink, purple, and blue. She obviously finds communication difficult but she’s always polite. With her mother’s encouragement, she answers the questions I need to ask about her cat and even manages a shy smile as I take the box from her.

I leave my coworker to process payment while I take the cat to get settled, coming back just in time to see the girl’s mother already outside while the girl steps back, holding the door open for [Customer #3] to enter. She swoops in with an exaggerated huff of disgust.

Customer #3: “Teenagers these days, am I right? They have no respect for anyone.”

At first, I assume something must have happened prior to her visit since nothing I’ve witnessed could be seen as remotely disrespectful.

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer #3: “Well, fancy doing that to her hair? Why should I have to look at an ugly [lesbian slur] like that?”

I’m both stunned and outraged, trying to find words that won’t get me fired while secretly desperate to tell her what I really think. The girl in the doorway was already upset about having to leave her cat and is now on the verge of tears.

[Customer #2] is an older gentleman with shock-white hair and an infectious smile that suddenly turns to a stony glare as he speaks up.

Customer #2: “Get your eyes tested, you old hag. She looks great. I might get my hair done like that.” *To the girl* “Do you think it would suit me? I mean, I’m not as pretty as you, but it might look cool? Or I could have green, orange, and red; I’d look like a fruit salad!”

The girl went from tears to giggles in seconds and nodded enthusiastically at his suggestion for what colours he might try in his hair. [Customer #3] ended up storming out in disgust. We never learned why she was there in the first place.

Thank you, sir, for saying what I couldn’t and for putting a smile back on that girl’s face.

This story is part of our Best Of June 2021 roundup!

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