CONTENT WARNING: Violence, Animal Abuse

I like to consider myself a very gentle person. I live in the dorms. It’s against the dorm rules, but I recently acquired a semi-feral kitten, and I’ve been secretly taking care of her in my dorms.

One night, my roommate comes back drunk. He’s absolutely sloshed. He bangs open the door of the dorm, walks up to me, and presses his chest against mine.

Roommate: “I don’t f****** like you. I’mma… I’mma f****** kick your a**. You’re so f******… f****** uptight all the time. You gotta relaaaax some. Let’s fight. Come on. Let’s fight. Let’s get these feelings out and fight.”

Me: “Yeah, no. I’m not going to fight you. You’re drunk. Go to bed.”

He looks around the dorm. First, he knocks my books off of the table.

Roommate: “Come on. Fight me, man. Fight me. We gotta work… gotta work these feelings out.”

Me: “No.”

Then, he grabs my laptop and slams it against the wall. It breaks into pieces. I pull out my cell phone and start to dial 911 since I figure this has gone far enough, but he slaps that out of my hand, too, and stomps on it.

Roommate: “Come on, man. Be a f****** man, not a p***y. Fight me.”

Me: “No.”

I was looking for a way out now; I was planning to run to the Resident Advisor’s office.

My kitten chose this inopportune time to make a noise.  [Roommate]’s eyes lit on the kitten. Before I could stop him, he grabbed the kitten and slammed her against the wall. Hard.

Lord help me, I started giving him that beating he wanted. I grabbed my desk. Not stuff off of the desk. Not my books. I grabbed my whole desk and, in a fit of hysterical strength, I hit him with it.

He went down. I kept beating on him, punching and kicking. I didn’t let him stand up. The only thing that stopped me was hearing my kitten start to whine.

I grabbed her and ran out, looking for a late-night emergency vet clinic.

The next day, I got back into my dorm, and my roommate was in his room, apparently asleep. The next time I saw him awake and active, he had casts on. We didn’t talk about it. I don’t know if he even remembered it.

I requested emergency roommate reassignment from the RA, and we were reassigned.

I was waiting in the ER lobby, having just driven my roommate there after he hit his head hard enough to cause a gash. As I was waiting, two ladies walked in, obviously in the middle of an argument. [Woman #2] was holding a towel around one hand.

Woman #1: “I told you. You didn’t know where it had been, you didn’t know that it was friendly, you—”

Woman #2: “Do you think you’re being helpful right now? Do you think this is actually helpful?”

They quieted down as they got to the desk and talked with the nurse to check-in. However, partway through, [Woman #1] started speaking louder.

Woman #1: “I told her, but she went out anyway. She just had to pet the doggy.”

Woman #2: “Shut up, [Woman #2]. It’s your fault; you spooked it.”

Woman #1: “I was on the porch. I didn’t go near it, ’cause I’m not stupid.”

Woman #2: “You spooked it! Dogs don’t bite me; I’m vegan!”

At that point, the receptionist got their attention again, and shortly, they were both escorted further in. Once they were out of sight, one of the other people in the room started giggling, and soon, several of us were chuckling at [Woman #2]’s logic. “I’m vegan,” indeed.

I am a cashier at a pet supply store with a grooming salon. A man comes up with a miserable-looking dog on a choke chain and leash. He throws the grooming paper at my register and rattles off his membership information.

Me: “Was every—”

Customer: “You can take that g**d*** charge off there. I told that girl I wasn’t paying for it but she put it on anyway.”

Me: “Um…”

I look at the paper and see that he was charged $10 for a “special item handling fee” as well as a $25 “express fee.” I have no idea what they are, so I call for a manager. The only manager on duty is another young woman like me. While we wait, the dog steps toward me and sniffs my hand. The man jerks the leash, yanking the dog back.

Customer: “Don’t touch my dog!”

Me: “I didn’t.”

Customer: “I just f****** saw you pet her! She is an AKC-registered breeding dog!”

I page the manager again instead of engaging him further. She comes around a nearby corner, sees the man, takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders.

Manager: “How can I help, [My Name]?”

Customer: “First, this girl assaulted my dog. I want her fired or I will sue [Store].”

Me: “I don’t—”

Customer: “Second, I was very clear that I will not pay this fee bulls***, so you can take that off or I’m walking out.”

Manager: “You were told at check-in—”

Customer: “I am not—”

Manager: “That there were fees for using non-standard items and the express option. You chose these add-ons—”

The man tries to talk again but she raises her voice over him.

Manager: “—and we will not be removing the charges. You were made aware and you signed the papers. You can pay or we can call the police. The choice is yours.”

The man throws two $100 bills on the register. I count his change back with a polite smile. He grabs it from my hand and tries to grab my wrist in the process. I dodge him and don’t bother to hide my glare.

Customer: “If her next litter is f***ed up, it will be on your head.”

Manager: “See you next time, sir.”

Customer: “If you’re lucky.”

After he left, I asked what my manager the f*** his problem was. It turned out, he breeds his “purebred” dog with other “purebred” dogs to produce — I kid you not — “pure crosses”, and he is convinced that one of his dog’s puppies competed in a televised competition.

Related:
A Fee-ble Attempt At Avoiding The Fees, Part 3
A Fee-ble Attempt At Avoiding The Fees, Part 2
A Fee-ble Attempt At Avoiding The Fees

I have a pet cobalt lineolated parakeet or a “linnie” as fans of the species like to call them. While different from the more common budgie, they are definitely parakeets, and yes, mine has learned to talk. His voice sounds just like any budgie’s you can find in videos. He likes to make little commentaries and mish-mash lines to make his own conversation, especially if he’s relaxed and feeling conversational.

I’ve taken my linnie to the vet for a regular checkup and to have his claws trimmed. He’s healthy, with good feather condition, and the vet has no concerns. Needing to stop at a pet store, I bring him inside in his travel cage to pick up some new perches.

[Bird] is having an animated conversation, and I’m talking back to him, as animal lovers tend to do.

Me: “What do you think, [Bird]? Is this a good one?”

Bird: “Yeah!”

Me: “Okay. And this one?”

[Bird] makes a happy little trilling noise.

Me: “Sounds like approval to me!”

Bird: “Hiii!”

Me: “Hi!”

Bird: “Sexy!” *Proceeds to blow kisses*

Me: “Yes, you are!” *Returns the kisses*

Random Customer: “You are disgusting.”

Me: “Pardon me?”

Random Customer: “I said you’re disgusting! Being attracted to animals is degenerate.”

Me: *Pauses* “His brain is the size of a fingerprint. He’s just imitating words that he’s heard. The things he says, and the thing I say back, don’t actually mean anything to him.”

What I don’t say out loud: “…and clearly his brain is bigger than yours.”

Random Customer: “I think you need to leave.”

Bird: “Ha ha ha ha! Sexyyy birrrrrd!”

Random Customer: “And that creature is no better!”

[Bird] makes a sound that usually means he’s getting impatient. Yeah, that’s fair; his tolerance for running around town is much shorter than mine. If we don’t go, he’s going to give me a really angry squawking.

Me: *To the random customer* “Whatever. It’s not my fault that you’re an idiot.”

I’ve gotten the perches I need, so I go up to the registers with the random customer trailing behind me, sputtering angrily.

I put the items on the counter. The cashier can see that I’m pretending the random customer doesn’t exist. Then, she spots the carry case.

Cashier: “Oh! Who have you brought to visit us today?”

Me: “This is [Bird]. He just got a little pedicure at the vet, and now we’re just getting some perches to replace his chewed-up ones.”

I lift the carry up and the cashier can see my little linnie through the window.

Cashier: “Ooooh, he’s so beautiful!”

Bird: “Hiii!”

Cashier: “Aww! Hi there, little man!”

The random customer is making grumbly, inarticulate noises and scowling at me like they want me to catch on fire with the heat of their stare. I’m still ignoring them.

I take [Bird] out of his cage briefly.

Me: “[Bird], are you sexy?”

At the trigger word, he promptly turns his back and then looks back over his shoulder like an attractive actress giving the “come hither” glance at a romantic interest.

The cashier makes a sound that tells me her heart just melted, and I fish out a piece of chopped-up apple to give to him for performing his trick.

Bird: “Nom-nom!”

He holds the apple bit in one foot and takes tiny bites.

Cashier: “Oh, my gosh, he’s adorable!”

The random customer has gone rather quiet as I pay for the perches and finish the transaction, just chatting the usual pet-lover information. A glance tells me that the random woman has silently and stealthily slunk off.

As we’re leaving, [Bird] gives a parting shot:

Bird: “Byeee, fell!”

Well, we’re still working on “Bye, Felicia”, but close enough, methinks.

I work in a pet shop. A customer approaches me and looks a bit dazed, but there are no other red flags.

Customer: “Hello! I need a parrot.”

As we sell several breeds of parrots, I naturally ask:

Me: “Of course! What kind of parrot are you looking for?”

Customer: *Still looking like they’re somewhere out of this world* “A live one…”