Not Fee-sible

| Northamptomshire, England, UK | Working | July 12, 2016

(My boss is operating on a dog, and as I don’t have anything to do at the moment, I decide to look in.)

Me: “Do you mind if I watch the surgery?”

Boss: *sarcastically* “Yes. There’s a £5 admittance fee.”

Me: “You can take it out of my wages.”

Boss: *shouting towards the reception desk* “[Receptionist]! You can take five quid out of [My Name]’s wages! She said so!”

(A few minutes later I have to step out of the OR for a moment. After I come back:)

Me: “So do I get a stamp so I don’t have to pay again?”

Boss: “Yeah, I’ll give you a stamp. Come here.”

(Foolishly, I did so. He stamped on my foot.)

Keeping You In For Longer Than A Dog-Day Afternoon

| USA | Working | June 29, 2016

(It’s the week leading up to Thanksgiving, and a few part-time employees have been called in to handle the expected increase in boarders and last-minute pet care. This conversation occurs at the end of the day, about 20 minutes until six, when the office closes, and most of our kennels are either full or booked for tomorrow. I’m in the kitchen with two fellow part-timers, who are much newer than me and don’t usually work full weekdays. We’re tidying up, waiting to leave, when another kennel worker rushes in.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, my God, Mrs. [Dog Rescue] is here!”

Me: “Oh, no.”

Coworkers #2 & #3: “Who?”

Coworker #1: “I hope she’s just dropping by; I want to go home!”

Me: “Did she have the van?”

Coworker #1: “I couldn’t see.”

Coworker #2: “So, what’s the big deal?”

Coworker #1: “She shows up right at closing and keeps us here for AGES!”

Coworker #3: “Why don’t they just tell her to f*** off, then?”

Me & Coworker #1: “She’s our biggest customer!”

Coworker #2: “I don’t get it. What’s so bad about being a little late?”

(The first coworker gives me a look that says “where do I even start?”)

Me: “Let’s put it this way: If Mrs. [Dog Rescue] calls and says she’s bringing in a litter of puppies at five, she’s going to show up at 6:30 with TWELVE puppies.”

Coworkers #2 and #3: “WHAT?! WHY?!”

(We had a good laugh at the looks on the new guys’ faces, and it turned out that Mrs. [Dog Rescue] was only in to buy a whole bunch of dog food and flea drops, so we all went home on-time.)

Take A 48-Hour Chill Pill

| IL, USA | Right | June 19, 2016

(I work at a very busy animal hospital’s oncology department. A client calls after having taken a lot of the doctor’s time that morning and making us run behind. I take the call, so the doctor can continue working on paperwork for her current patient.)

Customer: “Yeah, you guys didn’t give me enough d*** pills!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. We have a newer person that filled your prescription, but I did double check her. How many pills did we send you with?”

Customer: “It’s supposed to be two weeks’ worth, but you only gave me eight pills!”

Me: *realizing where the confusion lies* “Oh! Actually, that’s right; you got eight pills because the medication is given every other day. We need to see [Dog] in two weeks, so you’ll only be giving seven doses. I wanted to make sure that you had an extra dose, just in case, so that’s why we filled eight pills.”

Client: “But it’s supposed to be for two weeks. Why are there only eight pills?”

Me: “Because in those two weeks, you’re only giving seven doses. It’s an every other day medication.”

Client: “I get that it’s every other day, but why did you only give me eight pills?”

Me: *trying a different tactic* “Every 48 hours you’ll give [Dog] a pill. This means that, when we see you and (Dog) in two weeks’ time, you’ll have given seven pills. The pill can make some dogs feel ill, so we want to make sure he tolerates it, because you’re not allowed to return medication. That’s why we send two weeks’ worth the first time we send it home.”

Client: “Then why are there eight pills?”

Me: “The eighth pill is just in case something happens to one of the pills. For example, should [Dog] chew on one, or if he spits it out, or you should drop it down the sink. All those things have happened before to people. ”

Client: “I know why there’s an extra pill! But you said you wanted to see [Dog] in TWO WEEKS. Why did you only give me seven pills?”

Me: “Because you’ll be giving seven doses in those two weeks.”

Client: “But [Doctor] said you’ll give me two weeks’ worth, fourteen days! But there’s only seven plus the extra one!”

Me: “If we sent home fourteen pills, then that would almost be enough for a month worth of medication-”

Client: “I KNOW WHY THERE’S NOT FOURTEEN PILLS! You said you you’re giving me two weeks’ worth and—”

Me: *finally feeling the last part of my brain melt, I calmly unleash a stream of reasons, hoping one will make sense to her* “Because it’s an every other day medication. In those two weeks, you’ll only be giving seven pills. We don’t want to send more in case (Dog) gets sick from it. There’s two weeks’ worth of pills filled since you’re doing it every other day. Every 48 hours. Seven total doses.”

Client: “But you said—” *huff of breath, phone clattering, and then a click*

(I’m dumbfounded, so I look at the phone for a moment, then silently hang up the phone.)

Doctor: *shocked* “Did she just hang up on you?”

Me: *head in my hands* “Yes.”

Doctor: *picks up the phone, starts dialing client’s number*

(I had to go check in another patient so I didn’t hear the call, but the doctor told me later that the client had finally realized what I’d been telling her, and it made sense. She felt stupid and just hung up, to stop wasting my time…)

Making A Dog’s Dinner Out Of It

| Chattanooga, TN, USA | Right | May 26, 2016

(It was a usual problem, client comes in with an adult dog that has been vomiting and having some diarrhea. I start to go over a few basic questions with him.)

Me: “So, has everything else been normal before this started? Nothing out of the ordinary?”

Client: “That’s right; it just started randomly yesterday.”

Me: “And there’s absolutely nothing he could have gotten into, like chemicals or sweets?”

Client: “Nope, not that I can think of.”

Me: “Okay, what kind of dog food does he eat?”

Client: “Oh, he doesn’t eat dog food.”

Me: “Oh? So you make his meals? Boiled chicken and the like?”

Client: “Not exactly. I feed him what he likes to eat.”

Me: “…and what might that be?”

Client: “Well, yesterday I gave him two blocks of Colby Jack cheese and some leftover chocolate donuts, and the day before he had a few chicken wings and some ice cream.”

Me: “…”

(Needless to say, we did some X-rays to make sure there were no chicken bones, gave the owner a list of things you should not feed your dog, and sent him home with some actual dog food.)

Dead Bird-Brained

| VA, USA | Right | May 6, 2016

(I work at an all species vet clinic. The receptionist pages back, in a worried tone, for a tech to come up to discuss issues with bird food with a client.)

Me: “I understand you have some questions about bird food?”

Client: “Yes! I keep this bag of chicken scratch in my barn and there’s a dead bird in it!”

Me: “Oh, my. That certainly isn’t right! I see the bag has a label from—”

Client: “Who put it there?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Client: “Who put it there? Who’s trying to poison my chickens?”

Me: “I’m sure no one’s trying to poison your chickens, sir. It’s possible a bird flew in—”

Client: “You sell tainted food to get chickens sick. That’s how you make money!”

Me: “Sir, I can assure you we would not risk an animal’s health to make money. I see the bag is from [Farming Supply Company]; we do not even sell that food. It may be a quality control issue on their end, so I would definitely contact the company to report it. Their number is right here on the bag. I would not use this bag to feed your chickens.”

Client: “So, you didn’t put the sea bird there?”

Me: “No.”

Client: “Okay, have a nice day.”

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