Clients

A friend of mine at school sometimes likes to depress us all while studying for finals by saying things like, "Good thing we're studying THIS, since for the rest of our lives all we'll be doing is vaccines, spays and neuters."  Her comments always get us moaning and groaning, and in the past have caused me to become overwhelmed with a sense of doom and depression.  However, when she made this comment most recently (after proudly announcing her desire to specialize to avoid said monotony), I brought to her attention the fact that clients and pets are as varied as any special surgery or procedure, and keep life interesting for everyone.  Clients always come in with their own sets of stories, and I've always enjoyed listening to and collecting them like small treasures.  My Father once said I should write them down, and I only sporadically have throughout the past.  However, this past week brought an assortment of interesting clients, one of which stood out especially.

I arrived at work at the luxuriously late hour of noon the day after Thanksgiving, grumbling because I had so much Christmas stuff to finish and not being in the mood for work.  I hadn't just but walked through the door when I was called to help hold a kitty that was objecting to having her blood drawn.  I entered the room to see a pretty little tortoise-shell who was politely, albeit determinedly, objecting to being held still for her blood draw.  The owner was a pleasantly round middle-age woman with crossed eyes and a smiling, laughing demeanor had to leave the room, as she couldn't stand the sight of blood.  Her friend opted to stay and comfort Miss Kitty during her minor procedure.  The friend, who's name was Francine, was a thin and petite woman with dyed dark brown hair and a deeply wrinkled face.  She wore no makeup, but had a pair of thick, black false eyelashes haphazardly glued to her eyelids.  Francine wore navy blue leggings, yellow canvas slip-on shoes, and an enormous fake fur coat.  She spoke with a heavy, heavy french accent.

"My friend cannot stand the sight of blood.  She is a wuss."

This earned a set of glances between the other technician and I as we discreetly smiled, knowing we were in for an interesting couple of minutes.

"I tell her she'd better bring her kitty in to the vet, or else I would have to call the authorities.  'She's throwing up all the time now,' I say to her!  Poor kitty, poor kitty.  You are so brave!  My dog, I have to take him to the vet, and I feed him zees cookies the whole time.  Last time, he ate 8 cookies!  They were small, but 8!  I must feed him zees cookies or else he is too...how you say...rrrrambunctious."

She rambled on like this for a solid five minutes, all in her thick accent.  When we finished drawing the blood, she clapped her hands together and started talking to the kitty like we had molested her just for the fun of it, and then peeked over at us and winked.  I swear, it's clients like these that make me so passionate about the work I'll be doing.  I love the patients and I love the array of clients we get to see.  It's such a personal thing, treating one's animals.  You get a little glimpse into the very intimate parts of a person's life when you're allowed to do such a thing.  I love it, and can't wait to start practicing.