Here's what happened. I had to take Olivia, my tabby, in for a checkup. Last week she was having some bleeding around her teeth and gums and the vet had us give her medicine for a week in the hopes that would take care of the infection and we wouldn't have to pull a tooth. So she was there just for a simple check-up.
We walk in to my normally serene vets office and there's chaos. Dogs in the back are howling, practically screaming. Two dogs in the front office are trying their hardest to break away from their leashes and greet everyone. When they can't, they pee on the floor instead. The phone is ringing, rooms are full, there's nowhere to sit, and my poor kitty is just huddling in her carrier, trying to disappear.
But fine, things happen. Dogs pee, I can live with that. I eventually find a little corner to sit down in and try to shield Olivia from the sight of the dogs across the room.
Then SHE arrives. An older woman with one of those trembling, high-pitched yappy dogs that barks at everything.
Before I continue I want to be clear that I don't blame the dog for anything. If owners don't take the time for training, the dogs can't be blamed. So I have no problem with the yappy dog, just with the way his owner handled things.
So we're sitting in this tiny cramped space and the second this dog spots another animal (and hello, it's a vets office so animals are coming in and out constantly) it goes insane. Supersonic high-pitched constant yapping for minutes on end. The receptionist was plugging her ears, trying to hear whoever was on the phone. I had my fingers in my ears. My poor cat was trembling.
And this idiot woman sat there and every few seconds said something brilliant like, "Now Charlie, hush." Two more minutes of ear-breaking yapping. "Hush now."
I finally turned to her and in the snidest tone possible with a dose of superiority thrown in yelled (so as to be heard over the dog), "Could you take your dog out of here?" She just gave me one of those blank stares like she couldn't imagine what I might be referring to and so I glared at her and said, "He's freaking my cat out."
And so she took the dog outside.
I STILL think I'm right. What sort of moron sits there and lets people suffer? And I'm not talking about a couple of barks. This was ear-shattering and nonstop. It just floors me that she had to be asked to do something about it. Maybe she's gone deaf with living with this animal. Who knows?
Really, I'm resentful that she put me in a position to be the bad guy. And yes I did have the option to just sit there and be polite and take it, but I'm like a mama bear when it comes to my cats. Do anything to try and harm them and I will take you down.
We got back from the vet's around 3:30 and we didn't see Olivia until this morning. She hid all night. Usually she'll hide for about 2 hours after a vets appointment and then decide the coast is clear. Blair thinks I'm turning into my mother, worrying so much about the cat's mental health, but here's another area I refuse to concede. The fact that she disappeared for over 12 hours indicates that she WAS freaked out by the whole day.
Mama bear. That's me.
If anyone has any opinions on whether you think I handled this situation properly, was rude for no cause, or had other options, I'd love to hear your feedback.