I step into the consult room for a routine vaccination, smile and pat the dog, make small talk with the owners, send them on their way, and expect not to see them again for another year.
I step into the room with a dying cat, the adrenaline rushing through me, urgent and straight to the point (and very quickly I step right out again and run very fast with the animal to the treatment room.)
I step into the room with the rabbit I’ve been treating for months for the same problem, the owner I know very well now, and just wish I had a quick and simple answer for the nice people who have spent hundreds on their beloved little rabbit.
I step into the room to tell the owner his dog has cancer.
I step into the room to announce that the budgie survived overnight and is going really well now.
I step into the room with the owner sobbing uncontrollably as I gently end his cat’s life.
I step into the room with a new puppy, with a huge smile and radiating positive energy that echoes off the walls.
I step into the room with the demanding owners who've left their cat with an open fracture for five days and try to explain politely why I can't treat it for free.
A consult room contains a million worlds. Every time I walk into that room I have to completely drop whatever ordeal I’ve just been through and be who I need to be. In a single hour I take four consults. In just one hour (and I work a minimum nine hours a day) I am four different people with little or no time to recover or get over what I’ve just done. It’s at the end of the day, at night, when I’m exhausted, that I take it all in. Then, I'm just me.
I step into the room with a dying cat, the adrenaline rushing through me, urgent and straight to the point (and very quickly I step right out again and run very fast with the animal to the treatment room.)
I step into the room with the rabbit I’ve been treating for months for the same problem, the owner I know very well now, and just wish I had a quick and simple answer for the nice people who have spent hundreds on their beloved little rabbit.
I step into the room to tell the owner his dog has cancer.
I step into the room to announce that the budgie survived overnight and is going really well now.
I step into the room with the owner sobbing uncontrollably as I gently end his cat’s life.
I step into the room with a new puppy, with a huge smile and radiating positive energy that echoes off the walls.
I step into the room with the demanding owners who've left their cat with an open fracture for five days and try to explain politely why I can't treat it for free.
A consult room contains a million worlds. Every time I walk into that room I have to completely drop whatever ordeal I’ve just been through and be who I need to be. In a single hour I take four consults. In just one hour (and I work a minimum nine hours a day) I am four different people with little or no time to recover or get over what I’ve just done. It’s at the end of the day, at night, when I’m exhausted, that I take it all in. Then, I'm just me.
"I step into the room with the demanding owners who've left their cat with an open fracture for five days and try to explain politely why I can't treat it for free."
ReplyDeleteI wonder if they know that they can be charged for animal cruelty/neglect? Did they end up paying?
Julie, I ended up euthing that cat.
ReplyDeleteIt's often not wise to bring up animal cruelty fines, because it makes them more agitated/aggressive and less likely to pay for treatment.