(On Saturdays, my boss buys pizzas for all employees, but wants to cut costs so has an employee pick them up instead of getting them delivered. Note: I am a 110 lb. female and this takes place in Detroit.)

Boss: “[My name], can you go pick up three pizzas from [pizza place]?”

Me: “It’s kind of far away, and I have a lot to do. Can you send someone else?”

Boss: “Everyone else is busy, too. And there’s one on the corner a few blocks over.”

Me: “Do you mean the one on [street name] and [street name]? I can’t go there, at least not alone.”

Boss: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “It’s a dangerous neighborhood and I’m not comfortable. I’m a small teenage girl. A girl about my age got raped in that area just a few days ago. I don’t want to end up raped or murdered while picking up pizza. I’d gladly go get one from the farther one if I stayed on the clock and if I wasn’t busy with so many dog baths.”

Boss: “Well, I’m your boss and I say you have to go get the pizza from [closer pizza place].”

(At this point, one of our vet techs, who is male, overhears our argument and steps in.)

Coworker: “Wait, what, Dr. [boss]? You want to send a tiny girl into the middle of Detroit alone just to save a couple bucks delivery fee? No. I’m not even busy! I can go get the pizza!”

Boss: “I want [my name] to do it because I told her to!”

Coworker: “But it’s not safe!”

Boss: “But. I. Told. Her. To.”

(I ended up staying at the clinic and my coworker went to get the pizza without telling our boss. To this day, he thinks he got what he wanted.)

(I have just entered my vet’s office to pick up medicine for my dog. All is fine until I hear a horrible racket coming from one of the exam rooms. It sounds exactly like a toddler screaming ‘no, no, no, no!’ at the top of his lungs. I’m standing there dumbfounded, but the receptionist and some other customers are laughing.)

Me: “What’s going on?!”

Customer #1: “Trust me, you’ll love this.”

(A few moments later, another woman comes out of the exam room. She has an animal carrier in her hands, and is blushing beet red. The receptionist’s phone rings, and a loud voice comes from the animal carrier.)

Loud Voice: “Pick up ring ring! Pick up ring ring! PICK UP RING RING!”

(The woman starts shouting at the carrier.)

Woman: “Maggie, quiet!”

(I look in the carrier and see a very angry parrot staring back.)

Woman: “I’m so sorry! I just adopted her from a coworker. I had no idea she did that! She hasn’t uttered a single word since I brought her home. And this was just a nail trim!”

(During the month of February, my clinic has a special where our rabies vaccine is a much lower price than we would normally have it. I have just dealt with an extremely rude customer, and am prepared for the worst.)

Me: “Hello again, sir. Was there a problem with anything?”

Customer: “Did I get a three-year rabies vaccine?”

Me: “Yup, you did, sir. It shows how long it’s good for right there.”

(I show him the paperwork.)

Customer: “Okay, so… Why did you only charge me $8?”

(The customer pulls his change out of his pocket.)

Me: “Oh, that’s because this month we have a discount!”

Customer: “What? Really? That explains why it’s so busy. I was ready to give you back the change you gave me. Thanks!”

(I had to tell everyone I was working with what happened. To this day, thinking about him during a rough shift brings a smile to my face.)

(I work as a receptionist for a vet clinic. When people are thinking about adding an animal to their life, we always recommend they do a lot of research into the breed, so they can choose the pet that’s best for them, both for their sakes and the pets. One morning, a woman calls in, frantic.)

Client: “I have to see a vet as soon as possible. I think there’s something horribly wrong with my beagle puppy!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’m penciling you in. Can I ask, what are his symptoms?”

Client: “I’m not sure exactly, but he’s running around the house making this horrible sound, like he’s in pain. I don’t know what to do!”

Me: “Alright, well just take a deep breath. Can you get a good look at him? Does he have any injuries, or any other symptoms? Is he vomiting?”

Client: “No, he’s just making this awful sound! I think he’s-” *she’s interrupted by the ‘horrible’ sound* “There! That’s what he’s been doing all morning!”

Me: “Um, ma’am, how old is your beagle?”

Client: “Six months, why?”

Me: “Ah. Well, it sounds to me like he’s baying.”

Client: “What’s that? Is it serious?”

Me: “No, ma’am. Baying is a distinctive type of howl that hunting dogs make. When hunting breeds reach a certain age, their voice drops, the same way a human’s does, and they begin to bay when they’re excited. It sounds like your puppy just found his bay.”

Client: “But he’s not a hunting dog! I don’t even hunt!”

Me: “Beagles are a hunting breed, ma’am. They have been used to hunt for centuries. Baying is instinctive.”

Client: “Well, make him stop!”

Me: “I… what?”

Client: “Make him stop making that noise, it’s terrible!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t… make him stop. He’s doing what he’s bred to do. It sounds like he’s just excited with the new noise he can make and he’s showing it off. He’ll probably use it less once the newness has worn off.”

Client: “Less?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Client: “But…” *pause* “He’s going to do this forever?”

Me: “Welcome to owning a beagle, ma’am.”

This story is part of our Take Your Dog To The Vet roundup!

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(Our clinic has an animal hotel which backs out onto the alley behind. The back entrance is for employees and for taking dogs out for walks, and so only has a small sign to indicate it is an animal clinic. It is otherwise an anonymous-looking building, in an alleyway that looks like several others behind our neighboring strip malls. One such alleyway contains a medical marijuana clinic. It is 8 am on a Sunday. A stranger in his early twenties approaches me as I am taking a dog out for his morning business. I am in my scrubs, and so on the street I am sometimes mistaken for a nurse.)

Stranger: “Hey, you work here?”

Me: “Yep, I’m new.”

Stranger: “Okay, cool. They let you bring your dog to work with you?”

Me: “No, this is one of our boarders. Can I help you with something?”

Stranger: “They shouldn’t let you keep dogs in there! What if they ate your stock?”

Me: “I assure you, the pharmacy is kept well away from them. Did you need something?”

Stranger: “Yeah, just a dime.”

Me: *blankly* “I don’t have my wallet with me, I’m sorry.”

Stranger: *also blankly* “No, I mean… could you let me into the building so I can get it?”

Me: *thinking he is joking, I laugh* “The clinic is technically closed, sorry. Besides, I don’t think I want you going through my stuff!”

Stranger: “I don’t get it! My friends said you guys are super helpful! I just want to buy a dime!”

(At this point, I finally putting the pieces together.)

Me: “Ah, actually… we aren’t that kind of clinic. That one is the next alley up, but I’m pretty sure they’re closed at this time of day. We’re an animal clinic.”

Stranger: “S***! Sorry to bother you!”

(The stranger starts to leave in the direction he came from, but then turns around and goes the way I pointed and laughs.)

Stranger: “Yeah… I might be a little high.”