Saturday's at the vet clinic can be a variety of things: slow, busy but easy, busy but rough, or downright insane. I'm putting this last Saturday on the downright insane list. Not only were we busy, but it was my day for the crazies and the talkers. You know the type: they never once take a breath while speaking the entire time their on the premises. I had not one but two of those.
Walking in I looked at the book and though, well, we're busy, but not insane. I think I may have jinxed myself.
Things were going well early on, but somewhere between 9am and 10am I noticed a slight spiral. First, I get this gal who calls in about a pregnant Yorkie who is having some discharge out her hoo-ha and they're not sure if this is normal. So this tells you that these folks are backyard breeders because they have no idea what they are doing. A person who has bred dogs before or is a professional breeder would know what's normal or not. So I took her name and number and told her I would talk with the vet, Dr. A and get back to her. Poor Dr. A has no idea as she's still a recent vet school graduate. So she starts looking stuff up. Eventually this gal calls back and then asks if they brought the dog in to be checked out how much it would cost and what would they do? I start by telling her the price of a regular exam, and then eventually hand her off to the vet. The vet then comes back to me and says this gal is coming in. They show up shortly before lunch, and I start taking down the dog's information as it hadn't been in before. When I asked a question, both mother and daughter answered in unison. Which of course I didn't understand because it wasn't perfect unison. I kept thinking, this isn't rocket science folks - just one of you answer me. The dog goes into the back and as I'm closing up for lunch the owners start panicking that we were going to leave the dog all alone suffering in the back. Seriously? I explained that we were giving her a drug to induce her labor and that we would keep checking on her about every 20 minutes, but that she did need some peace and quiet. I don't think the puppies survived as they were a bit premature - the vet did a c-section and then spayed the dog.
Also in the morning I had another gal call who literally never shut up. She had a service pet that was bleeding from it's rectum, and she had no money as her husband had taken $300 out of their account, and she was worried that her neighbor had poisoned her cat. She spoke so disjointedly about where she was from (as in, couldn't get the name of her town right the first time), the story of her service pet, and this cat that I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I talk to Dr. A and she said that we're not taking any new charge accounts, and to have her call the Humane Society to see if they might help her out. Now the first time I talked to her I couldn't get her to stop talking. The second time was just as bad. I called her up and told her that we are unfortunately not taking on any new charge accounts (this is ruined of course by the idiots who make us take them to collections/court over $30), and then she runs her story by me again, which I had already heard twice in the first phone call. I gave her the number of the Humane Society, telling her that maybe they can help her out. She calls back a little later saying the Humane Society was going to loan her the money and she'd pay them back. Then I heard the whole story again. I kept trying to get her off the phone as I had other lines on hold and people waiting at the front desk. I finally say, "Okay, well we'll see you when you get here," click.
While I'm dealing with that lady, another lady comes in for her appointment. I grab her file and say, "Are we seeing Mugsy?" She replies with, "No, she's dead. This is Sophie." Um. Okay. So while she doesn't shut the hell up either, I'm trying to figure out why she keeps telling me we've seen this dog before but I have no record of her. Finally she says to look in a certain file. I tell her that's the file I have - hers. Then she says to look in her mom's file. Um. Okay. Well, there's the dog's record. She has yet to shut her trap. I have no idea what the hell she's talking about, but she keeps talking. I, of course, have a ton of other things to do, and don't have time for her chatter. Finally one of the girls takes her back to an exam room, and she continues whatever she's saying to the poor girl as if she's been there for the whole conversation. Yeah. When she comes back out, she's still going. Non-stop. And continues as I'm trying to check her out. In my head I was screaming, SHUT UP! And go get me a Cosmo! I need a drink!!
After lunch (sans Cosmo) it was just busy. We were still dealing with the pregnant Yorkie, had our scheduled appointments, phones ringing off the hook, and random people coming in for shopping. Plus I had payment checks to enter not to mention other stuff to finish.
Around 2pm, the phone call gal came in - with the service pet. Turns out, this service pet is a cat. It's a therapy pet, suggested by her mental health professional. Yep. She was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. From the minute she stepped foot in the door, she wouldn't shut up. I heard the story at least once more. After that I just tuned her out, saying, "yeah . . . uh huh . . ." every so often. I was never happier to hear the phone ring. And guess what? She still rambled on while I was on the phone. While I was on the phone, a guy came up to the counter. Once off the phone I wrote up a ticket for him, and during that time, the mental lady was still talking to me. The guy kept giving me a funny look as I was trying so hard to concentrate on writing up the ticket, and I kind of just looked at him. One of the girls took the gal back, and she was still rambling. No joke. I'm not sure how the vet ever got a word in, but she did. Once we got her all squared away billing-wise, it took me forever to get rid of her.
Then at 5 minutes til 4pm (which is closing time), some gal walks in saying she needs to get her dog his shots. Dude. Really? When she tells me her last name I paused and checked the appointment book. She had an appointment. For 11am. OMG. Seriously? So I mention that fact, and she mumbles something that I can't understand. *grrrrrr* Luckily, because we were so behind, our vet had called in one of the retired guys who had popped in earlier in the morning. He was doing some cattle work that was scheduled at the clinic while she did that spay on that Yorkie. So I had the girl go get him to do the vaccines instead - on a dog that had on a serious muzzle and the gal could barely control. Yeah.
Oh. My. Gawd.
In the end, I realized there's just not enough chocolate or Cosmopolitans in the world.
My head hurts from all the talkies that wouldn't shut up.