Tails from the Vet: Cat$hit crazy

When a cat projectile shitting up a wall is the high point, you know it's a bad day.

Thanks internet.

Okay, it was only a comparatively high point during the final hour of work, but I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Yesterday I had a slow day, according to the books. A few neuters (one of the easiest surgeries), my cat was coming in for her checkup (she behaved herself and was cuddled) and a few other random things. No biggie. Even when the day became super busy, my college and I found free periods where we watched 90% of last year's Carrie remake. It was fine, by the by.

Then...THEY came.

I took a phone call from a woman with a sick kitten. Being a concerned tech (with almost an hour to kill before the night ended) I advised her we were open and to bring it in.

I can't go into specifics lest I be discovered, but this woman was crazy. She smelled. Her mom smelled. The kitten smelled. The WHOLE CLINIC smelled. My pregnant coworker had to excuse herself, lest she vomit on the clients.

Then after the kitten was helped, THE WOULDN'T GO. I'd gotten my wish in a monkey's-paw way; the last hour was vanishing, but in a haze of stink and insanity. This woman was the definition of a crazy cat lady; many cats that stunk, but were well taken care of so we couldn't call anyone.

Things degenerated after the doctor got caught leaving his office; a rant about black people murdering another vet if he became a detective. Why didn't we have the brand of food another vet had. Why didn't we tape our cards to the medicine packs. I can't remember everything, nor do I want to.

By the time they left we had juuuust enough time to do our closing tasks and spray some air freshener. We did everything short of calling in a priest to rid the clinic of that smell.

But you know what? IT STILL BEATS WORKING FOR MY LAST BOSS! HAHAHAHHAAA!