Many small dogs are very territorial; Chihuahuas are notorious for this and for being extremely loyal to only one person. My dad grew up around lots of animals, so between his training and the even temper of our Chihuahua, I was under the impression that they were usually sweet. I was jolted into reality when some friends came to stay with us and had to bring their Chihuahua with them.

To start with, our dog was a strictly indoor dog, who, despite chewing through leashes and barking when people came to the door, would never bite and would always lay down to get a belly rub. Their dog was a strictly outdoor pet that had to be tethered to a secure point with a chain. In the three days they were there, I don’t think he ever stopped barking. He ran back and forth in the same half-circle so much that there was no longer grass there, and he snarled and lunged if anyone besides one of the daughters or occasionally the mom got within three feet of him.

One day my dad came home and saw that the dog had run in a circle around the sprinkler he was chained to, catching the chain in a way that left him with his head about an inch from the ground and unable to move anywhere. My dad thought about leaving him like that but knew he couldn’t, so he started thinking of ways to unhook the chain. Now, anyone who’s worked with animals — or even watched a nature documentary — knows that, when in a desperate situation, many aggressive animals will calm down long enough to accept help, so my dad started approaching slowly and low to the ground, making calming noises. The dog seemed to relax for a second, but when my dad was about six inches away, the dog snarled and almost bit him. My dad jumped back quickly to avoid the small but sharp teeth that Chihuahuas have.

He thought about what to do again and walked into the garage to grab some supplies. He came out with a broom and a long pole. I was about seven years old, but I will never forget the image of my strong, 6’3″ father shoving a broom in a two-pound dog’s face, using a pole to unhook his chain, and running away as soon as the dog was loose enough to stand up straight. It’s pretty funny in hindsight, but it was scary to little me in the moment, and I now know to be much more cautious with dogs, even small ones.

For the record, the dog was fine afterward.

I am a relatively new veterinarian. Often, we will get a case come in as ADR — Ain’t Doing Right — which is to say they are acting a bit off, but not always obvious what is wrong. I have an ADR older golden retriever come in with Mom and Son. They give the history: the dog has been losing weight, not eating well, lethargic, and having dark stools for a few weeks. This dog also has a history of ear problems. The last time we saw the dog was over two years ago. They have limited funds, so I try to work on a step-by-step diagnostic to try to get the most information before determining if more diagnostics are needed.

Starting with the physical exam: the dog is severely muscle wasted, lethargic — as they said — and dehydrated, and he has a new heart murmur. After discussing with Mom, we decide to start with bloodwork. It comes up with some very mild liver changes, but nothing too noteworthy. We are at the upper point of their budget, so I discuss my next recommendation of chest x-rays and what we would do depending on what we found, quoting them the costs for everything before anything is performed. They agree to the x-rays, and unfortunately, the x-rays show possible heart enlargement, but again nothing too exciting. So, they agree to try a heart medication, subcutaneous fluids, and an anti-emetic and see how the dog responds. It’s worth noting there were additional tests I would have liked to do, but I didn’t want to stretch their budget too much further.

A few days later, the dog isn’t improving on the heart meds, so I recommend an abdominal ultrasound — at a different vet — to better evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and surrounding organs. Unfortunately, the ultrasound looks like liver cancer, which I am very surprised by given how mild the blood work was.

I receive a request to contact the Father when I return to work the day after the ultrasound. I give him a call back, assuming he wants to discuss further treatment and prognosis. Boy, was I wrong.

Turns out he just wants to spend ten minutes telling me I am a crook, only in it for the money, and don’t care about animals. He continues to tell me that I took advantage of his wife and his upset son, and had them spend more money than they were willing. He rails that the dog was coming in for an ear infection, and I had them do a bunch of unnecessary tests. Any time I try to interject, either to explain my findings and recommendations as he wasn’t there, or to confirm what he thinks happened at the appointment, he simply talks over me, stating he doesn’t care what justifications I have and that “[he] is onto [my] game.” It continues until I am crying against the wall and finally have permission from the practice owner to hang up on him.

The fun part: he calls right back to have my receptionist tell me I am an a**hole. I still have to talk to his (much nicer) wife to answer her questions, and I almost can’t bring myself to do it. As of now, I refuse to discuss anything further with the Father.

Many years ago, our old dog needed total hip replacement surgery due to hip dysplasia. However, he needed to lose a fair amount of weight before the vet would do the surgery. We cut down his food to a ridiculously small amount in order to help him lose weight because exercise was too painful for him.

The dog was super friendly and loved to wander and visit the neighbours. My mum had to visit every single house in our street and ask if our dog visited them, and ask them, if he did, to please not feed him because he needed surgery. Most of the neighbours were understanding, if a little upset that they couldn’t give him treats anymore.

One set of neighbours, in particular, were sad they couldn’t give him [biscuits] because they were his favourite. Mum told them they would have to eat them instead because he really needed to lose weight.

They told her that they didn’t like [biscuits] at all; they only bought them for the dog because they had tested him with everything and figured out he liked them best.

He lost weight very quickly and the surgery was a success. Those neighbours continued to buy [biscuits] especially for him right up until he passed away a few years ago.

(I work at a swimming pool.)

Woman: “Can I leave my dog here?”

Me: “I’m afraid not, madam.”

Woman: “Why ever not? This is terrible service. I demand you tell me exactly why I cannot leave my dog here!”

Me: “This is a swimming pool.”

Woman: *after a pause* “He needs a bath!”

(As she left, she threw her dog in the pool and just left him. We called the police and they agreed to take the dog back to her. The owners of the pool felt the need to drain and refill it, and they forwarded the costs onto the woman. She apparently paid it while screeching that she’d be going to “different dog groomers” in future.)

(One morning, one of my fellow teachers comes into the office, starts rifling through her papers in her bag, and lets out a heavy sigh.)

Teacher: “I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this to my students.”

Me: “Explain what?”

Teacher: “You know that squid dissection lab?”

Me: “Not really?”

Teacher: “They dissect little market squid. I have them dissect out the squid’s ink sac and use it to sign their names.”

Me: *laughing* “That’s hilarious! Does it work?”

Teacher: “Oh, yeah! And it smells. Unfortunately. You won’t believe this, but my dog ate the labs.”

Me: “Wait, what? All of them?”

Teacher: “Yup. Or at least enough that I can’t grade them.”

(She sighs.)

Teacher: “Screw it. They’re all getting full credit.” *chuckles* “And at least they’ll get a laugh out of it!”