Being Nice Isn’t In Her ‘Lexi’-con

| FL, USA | Right | February 26, 2016

(I work at a local veterinarian office as a part time handler and assistant. On one of my days off I bring my own dog in to get her checked. It is fairly crowded, so I take my dog over to an unoccupied corner to wait. A few minutes later a woman comes in literally dragging a young Boxer puppy through the door on a choke chain.)

Woman: *stomps up to the counter* “There’s something wrong with my dog!”

Tech: “I’m sorry to hear that! Can I get your name and some information on your little pup there?”

Woman: *yanks on leash, making the pup yelp* “It won’t listen to me! I’m doing all the d*** commands that your trainer told me to, and it won’t do s***! I’m using your advice, so fix it!”

Tech: “Ma’am, please don’t use that language. Can you tell me your puppy’s name?”

Woman: “Lexi. It won’t even walk right! How the h*** am I supposed to breed this b**** if it can’t learn simple s*** like this?!”

(At this point the poor pup’s eyes are bulging out and she is panting very roughly as the woman waves her arms around and yanks on the lead. I’m not much a fan of people breeding dogs, period, but this woman’s total lack of concern for her pup is setting off all sorts of alarm bells for me. I hang my dog’s leash on one of the provided hooks, give her a ‘stay’ gesture, and quickly go over to help.)

Tech: *looking distressed at the swearing* “Oh! Ma’am, if you need help with dog behavior, this young woman can help you. She’s an off duty handler and one of our best.” *looks to me expectantly* Do you think you can work your magic?”

Me: *gives enraged woman a dead stare* “Not on this b****.”

Woman: “I told you! I don’t need some f****** hippie kid to train my dog! It obviously has something wrong in the head!”

Me: *points to leash* “May I?” *I take the leash without waiting and then plop down on the ground to loosen the chain so that the puppy can breathe* “Hey there lil’ Lexi. Man, that must have been scary. So many new sights and smells and noises! New people and even new, bigger versions of you! I’d be peeing myself, seriously.”

Woman: “What the f*** are you doing?!”

Me: *rubbing the now much more receptive pup on the head* “I’m training her. Now, Lexi, sweetie. I know this big mean b**** has been bad. But I can’t whack her with a newspaper, so let’s set her right, huh? Now, I know that having something around your neck is really scary. But if we don’t do this, then the person with you might get lost and losing your human is punishable by a fine. So do you think you want to try walking with me for a minute?”

(I make a show to the pup of loosening her chain and going into a crouch. Lexi also stands up from her sit and looks at me.)

Me: “All right! Let’s go!”

(I pop up and walk a few steps. Little Lexi stays right next to me and we do a circuit of the waiting room. I give her praise and encourage her to ‘show off to the big guys’ as we go past the other dogs. We come around to my dog, who sniffs the newcomer then goes back to lounging, disinterested. Seeing that they have no issue with each other, I hang the pup’s leash up with my dog’s and go back to the counter.)

Me: “And that is why you ask nicely.”

Woman: “You’re a witch!”

(The woman started screaming profanities at how I ‘hexed’ her dog. The lead vet came out at the commotion and after we explained the situation, she threw the woman out and reported her to the police. When we looked at the security tapes from outside we saw her kick the poor pup when it wouldn’t move from her car, and she was later arrested for animal abuse. My dad’s girlfriend agreed to raise lil’ Lexi and she is now a very happy, sweet dog with no issues on a leash.)

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Getting To The Meat Of The Problem

| Madison, WI, USA | Right | February 16, 2016

(I am a receptionist at a vet clinic. Sometimes I get calls from clients with… less than a full deck of cards.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Clinic]. This is [My Name] speaking; how can I help you?”

Client: “Yeah, uh, I haven’t ever been there before but my dog has been having diarrhea for, like, two weeks and I’m wondering what I should do.”

Me: “If your dog has had diarrhea for that long it could be an indication of a serious medical condition. Has he been eating and drinking normally, sir?”

Client: “Yeah, he’s drinking and he eats his meat fine.”

Me: “Meat? What kind of dog food are you feeding him?”

Client: “Well, I read online that dogs eat meat so I buy him turkey from the grocery store. He likes it better than the kibble.”

Me: “When did you make this change in his diet?”

Client: “About two weeks ago. Why?”

Very Bad Reception, Part 14

| CO, USA | Working | February 12, 2016

(My old cat is clearly unwell and is refusing to eat. I call my vet’s office as soon as it opens to make an emergency appointment. The receptionist is female.)

Receptionist: *speaking so fast it’s all slurring together* “[Vet]. Can you hold, please?”

Me: “Sure.”

(At this point, instead of hearing hold music, I hear a man’s voice start talking. I think this is the customer she was on the line with before I called, but as I’m pulling the phone away from my ear, I hear…)

Man On Phone: “But I mean I haven’t spoken to the guy in like seven years, so it’s kind of awkward, you know?”

Receptionist: “Oh, I know. Like, you know how awkward things are with my family. I haven’t talked to my sister in, like, three years and then she calls me and I’m just like, ‘what do you want…'”

(I’m holding the phone further from my ear still, trying not to eavesdrop, but I keep bringing it back to check that she’s not talking to me when I hear the female voice and this conversation keeps going for a few minutes. I’m starting to get irritated that the veterinarian’s receptionist blew off a person worried her cat could be dying to have a long, meandering conversation with what sounds like her boyfriend about something that is neither time sensitive nor an emergency. I’m finally about to speak up and embarrass them when a second receptionist picks up the line.)

Receptionist #2: “Hi, have you been helped yet?”

Me: “No… and you might want to tell your coworker how to use the hold button, because I know way more about her and her friend’s awkward family situation than I ever wanted to.”

(I don’t know yet what’s wrong with my cat, but at least the second receptionist helped me make my appointment after she finished laughing. It took all of two minutes.)

 

Your Cat Is Heartless

| NC, USA | Working | February 10, 2016

(I work part-time at a vet’s office. On this particular day, I’ve brought my extremely friendly cat in for his annual check-up after I get done with classes. The doctor is, of course, my boss, and he has quite a sense of humor.)

Doctor: *puts on stethoscope, holds it to my cat’s chest*

Doctor: *frowns and gives my cat a few firm finger-pokes to the shoulder*

Doctor: *raps the table sharply with his knuckles*

Me: “Trying to get him to stop purring?”

Doctor: “Yeah.” *takes off stethoscope* “Well, I’m just going to assume there’s a heart in there somewhere.”

Getting A Raise With Minimum Effort

| GA, USA | Working | February 4, 2016

(My first job was as “kennel help” in a small vet clinic. I made minimum wage and did everything from cleaning dog poop to assisting with surgery. One day the vet called me into his office.)

Vet: “So you’ve been here for over a year and have done a good job. I’ve decided that you deserve a raise. How does [slightly higher than minimum wage] sound?”

Me: “Really? I get a raise? Cool!”

(I was thrilled to have earned a raise, even if it was only a small one. A few days later I was hanging out with a friend and proudly told them the good news.)

Friend: “So you’re still making minimum wage?”

Me: “No. I got a raise!”

Friend: “You do know they just raised the minimum wage, right?”

Me: “…”

(I checked, and it was true. The “raise” my boss had given me was actually a mandatory raising of the minimum wage.)

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