Some Days…
…work is actually work. I love my job (pet health counsellor AKA veterinary receptionist) most of the time, I get to educate people about pet care, I get to help people make informed decisions about their pets…but some days…sure, the ignorant assholes drive me crazy. The “it’s just a dog” people make me want to smack them. But then you get nice guys like one client today, whose spouse died earlier this year, and who can’t face his dog dying too, so he’s doing whatever he can, spending a ton of time and effort and money, and it seems like we’re on the verge of losing the battle. He stood there in the lobby today, crying and talking to me about how he doesn’t know if he’s doing the right thing, if he’s being selfish, but he can’t face his dog’s death on top of what’s already happened to him. And I did what I hope was right, what I hope he needed: assured him that we would tell him when we thought it was time to stop; told him we would support him; told him not to give up just yet. But damn…it’s hard. Some days I’m a therapist more than anything else.