I shouldn’t happen to a vet

My husband tells me that one day my vet will write his memoirs and I will feature heavily in them.

I’m the owner who asked the vet to examine a tumour on the bottom of my little poodle. All I’ll say is I know why they are called poo-dles and the tumour didn’t need to be biopsies 💩😳

I’m also the client who got her vet to meet me at the surgery for an emergency appointment for a cat with a blocked bladder who couldn’t pass urine. One looked at the vet and the cat flooded the surgery 🌊

Then there were the visits with Finn the Newfoundland because

“He got the lid of a tin of quality Street and ate them all……papers and all!”

“He opened the fridge door and ate two dozen chocolate brownies”

“He opened the oven door and ate a dozen mince pies that were cooling down”

Or “He got the dogs’ medicine box and ate all Henry’s ( our boxer) beef flavoured heart tablets”

The vet told me not to worry too much about that one…… “They’re vasodilators…….like Viagra…….just don’t bend over in front of him for the next few days”

But not incidents were my fault. What about the time I took the two guinea pigs for a check up? The young vet listened to the heart of the first one and it promptly passed away! He refused to listen to the heart of the second guinea pig 🤷‍♀️

Or the time the vet kept ignoring me as she walked back and forwards through the waiting room eventually asking

“Are you being seen to?”

“I’m waiting to see you”

“Do you have an animal out in the car?”

“No it’s on my knee” I said pointing to a very largesse doing leopard tortoise

“OMG I thought that was your handbag!”

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