June 24th, 2006
Saturday. A day of boredom in the extreme (routine well-pet visits) interspersed with heavy-duty end-of-life issues (euthanasia). In other words: a typical Saturday.
I hate typical Saturdays. It makes sense that Saturdays are days when working people plan routine care for their pets. And so it also stands to reason that this is a good day to organize a family trip to the vet to euthanize Fluffy. But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.
Aside from the obvious (everyone else I know is having a nice day off boating on the bay or biking to Key Biscayne) Saturdays just suck.
It’s the one thing about being a vet I don’t like: having to be here on a Saturday because while human doctors are judged by how well they practice medicine, veterinarians have to be both good at their jobs and keep convenient hours.
No one ever says to the pediatrician’s receptionist: I can’t take Mikey in to see you until 4 since I’m at work `till then. Or: How come you don’t have evening hours? How am I supposed to take little Stevie to the doctor if she’s not there after five o’clock?
Our [cheeky] reception staff has a good answer for people that take this attitude with them: Dr Khuly has a life, you know.
