I went into a very large feed store for the very first time and was a little overwhelmed by the size of the place. A clerk directed me to the medications, and I was looking through them when two women in their early thirties spotted me and walked over.

Woman #1: “Excuse me, but I’m looking for something for my horse. He has [some sort of problem that I don’t remember] with [some piece of horse anatomy that’s unknown to me].”

Me: “Sorry, but I don’t work here.”

Woman #1: “But you’re standing there in front of the medicines!”

Me: “I’m shopping. I don’t work here, sorry.”

The women left for a few minutes and then returned.

Woman #1: “We’ve decided that since we thought you worked here, you need to help us anyway.” 

[Woman #2] nodded.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about horses. If you need help, you will need to ask somebody who works here.”

Woman #1: “But I can’t find anybody, and you’re here. What’s that in your hand?”

Me: “It’s something to stop feather plucking in chickens.”

Woman #1: “Does it help horses?”

Me: “Whaaaaat?!”

[Woman #1] gave a loud sigh.

Woman #1: “We need help with our horse. Will any of these help?”

She pointed to the shelf.

Me: “I don’t know anything about treating horses. Maybe you could call your vet. They might be able to help you.”

Woman #1: “But vets cost money, and they’d probably want us to bring him in.”

[Woman #2] nodded again.

Woman #1: “Just tell me what you think will help.”

Me: “But I don’t work here, and I don’t know anything about treating horses.”

I decided to walk away and come back later. Maybe they would find something for their horse’s problem and I would be able to shop in peace. A little while later, I returned to the same aisle and it was empty. Now to get a few things for the chickens. But nope. They spotted me and headed back for another round.

Woman #1: “Look, we need something for our horse. If you didn’t know anything about medicines, you wouldn’t be in this aisle. We don’t want to call the vet because that’s expensive, and we’re not taking him in. If you don’t know, why don’t you call somebody who does?”

Woman #2: “Yeah, we can’t afford that. We’re not going to the vet. We just need some medicine for him.”

Me: “You want me to call a vet for you?! It sounds like you need to call your vet. Maybe they could advise you over the phone — because I don’t know anything about treating horses! I am here looking for stuff for my chickens, and I know nothing about treating horses!“

A clerk must have heard me raise my voice because he came over. The women immediately went over to him, complaining because their horse needed help, I wouldn’t help them, and they did not want to pay for a vet.

I headed straight for the registers. I just hope that poor horse got the help he needed.

My long-time girlfriend of eight years recently passed away. I’ve stayed close with her parents in the weeks and months since.

One day, I’m over at her house helping her parents with some stuff. In the family living room, they have several couches and chairs in a semi-circular set-up centered around the TV. Seats were first-come, first-serve, but everyone had their unofficial-official seat.

Girlfriend’s Dad: “We’ve been thinking about who should take over [Girlfriend]’s seat. We thought you would be the perfect heir to it if you want.”

Me: “Sure, that would be great!”

Just then, we hear clawing at the back door and see my girlfriend’s cat standing outside, begging to be let in. I go and open the door for her. The cat races in and jumps into my girlfriend’s seat, looks at me and meows, and then settles in for a nap.

Me: “I think [Girlfriend] just established who the heir to her seat is, and I guess it’s not me.”

Girlfriend’s Dad: “Guess not.”

I’ve never really been bothered by “creepy crawlers” for as long as I can remember, much to my mother’s chagrin. I’ve always been the type to try and catch and release any bugs or little critters I see inside as opposed to just mindlessly killing them for simply existing. Because of this, I always seem to get the reputation of being the “bug girl” wherever I go.

I have only been working in this office for maybe a month. I’m sitting at my desk working when my boss all but runs into the room.

Boss: “[My Name], I need you to come with me now!“

I’m wondering if I did something wrong.

Me: “Uh, okay, do I need my laptop?”

An odd look crosses over her face and I quickly put the pieces together.

Me: *Sighing* “Where’s the bug?”

Boss: “THERE’S A MASSIVE LOCUST IN [MANAGER]’S OFFICE!”

It ended up being just a field cricket. My boss called me “bug lover” the entire time I worked there, which I found hilarious.

I work at a veterinarian’s office as a receptionist, usually just answering phone calls and making appointments. Today, I had a call from a woman who was in tears. 

Caller: “You have to help me! Oh, God, it’s an emergency and I don’t know what to do!”

Me: “Miss, I need you to calm down, please. Tell me what the emergency is and what kind of animal.”

Caller: “I’m babysitting my sister’s dog, and she just peed, and oh, God, it’s the wrong color! I don’t know what I did wrong!”

Me: “Ma’am, what’s wrong with the urine? Did you see blood in it? If so, you’ll need to bring the dog in immediately.”

Caller: “No, nothing like that! The dog’s pee is yellow! Oh, I don’t know what to do! My sister loves this dog!”

Me: “Yellow? I’m sorry ma’am, but that’s a normal color for urine in… well, almost any animal.”

Caller: “But you don’t understand! She has a brown dog!”

As it turned out, the caller thought that animals peed the same color as their coats, and I had to explain to her why she was wrong for ten minutes. The dog’s owner turned out to be a customer of ours, and we told her the story the next time she came in. She sighed.

Customer: “This is why my sister was never allowed to have a pet growing up; she’s not the brightest.”

Back when my sister was a toddler, we had a dog — a German shepherd/rottweiler mix to be specific, meaning he was both fairly smart and very loyal. He absolutely adored “the human puppy” (my sister) and was very sad when she wasn’t home. My sister also adored the dog and would play with him often.

When my sister was in the middle of her “imitating the adults” phase, she noticed that we would give the dog treats for doing tricks. She decided she would do this, too, but being too small to reach the treats, she simply settled for taking a bit of food out of the dog’s bowl to reward him with, instead.

We all thought this was very funny, and the dog didn’t seem to mind being rewarded with his own food since it made my sister happy. To keep her from making a mess, my mom taught her only to give the dog “treats” on the hallway carpet. 

One day, when my sister wasn’t home, the dog was sulking as he usually did when he missed my sister. Suddenly, he left the room. I followed him to see if he would like some treats to take his mind off things, and I found him standing by his bowl. He gingerly took a bit of food, went over to the hallway carpet, and gently put it down. Then, he did a trick, waited a few seconds, and ate his “treat”.

I found this hilarious, as did my mother when she came home with my sister and I told her.

From that day forward, whenever the dog would miss my sister, he would do this. He never did it when my sister was home but almost always did it when she was gone. 

Dogs are great.

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