July 11th, 2006

Tuesday. Had one of those days you have when everything goes well until the last client. Ruins your whole outlook for the night ahead.

Today’s mood destroyer walked in with a black cloud over her head. And when she opened her mouth it was like a black hole, opening wide to suck you in with her hyper-vacuous b---s---.

In the waiting room: I don’t need to fill out all that paperwork. Grungy was in to see you six years ago. (Oh my God—how could it be that I’ve forgotten you already?)

In the exam room: You don’t need to check him all over. I worked for a vet in high school and I know you people charge more for checking him all over. Just look at this cut on his face, OK? (I charge the same but I might be persuaded to charge extra if you don’t lose the attitude.)

After mentioning the word, `hot spot`: It’s not a hot spot. I know hot spots and I would never have brought him in for just a hot spot. (OK, we’ll call it severe, focal dermatitis with underlying allergic skin disease and otitis externa. Like that better?)

Next thing I know I’m trying my hardest to just get her out the door. I tried hard to charge as much as possible for each and every thing I did so she’d never come back.

Unfortunately, after paying the bill ($145 for a mild yeast infection of the ear and an area of superficial hair loss due to its itchiness), she asked for an appointment for her other dog. I’ll be seeing her again on Saturday morning.

Oh well. You can’t win `em all.