My new vet talks like a muppet.

Also, his breath is terrible, and he’ll tell you from across the waiting room that your poor dog will never NOT need its anal glands expressed. Lovely.

That’s not what bothers me about him, though.

What bothers me is that he shushed me during the exam.

Not when he was listening to my cat’s lungs with his stethoscope. Nope. Just when he was squeezing her around the middle, presumably ensuring all her organs were in the right place. “Wait till I’m done with the exam,” he growled.

So I waited, feeling embarrassed and resentful like I did at 10 when my mom’s best friend scolded me for something, and every cell in my body wanted to scream, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!

And I waited. And waited.

I waited so long in that awkward silence for him to make notes that I thought surely he had forgotten I was speaking in the first place. The whole time, my body engaged in the strange, involuntary act of shrinking and kind of holding my breath so as to minimize distractions. At long last, he turned to me with an expression worn only by old white men who have asserted their dominance in a way that feels like muscle memory and sniffed.

“Yes?”

Did I claw his face off for being condescending?

Will this story teach you how to become a real-life firestarter?

Is what you're about to read a murder confession?

​Mayyyyyyyyyyybe???? Best check out the post and find out...​

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