Today was our monthly trip to the vet to have Saki’s claws clipped. This is the highpoint of the month for neither Saki nor me, but since the choice is dragging him off to vetland or having him customize the furniture with long, shaggy rips, kitty pedicure wins out.
Our vet’s waiting room is smallish. As I was standing at the counter, a woman on the other side of the room was having trouble controlling her dog, a kind of boxer/pit bull mix. It was growling and barking, lunging at the techs, other dogs, and me. Have I ever mentioned that when I was younger, I was really scared of dogs? I’m much more comfortable around them now, but a big dog snarling and snapping at me is still not my idea of a good time.
The vet and I both told the woman to reel him in. She yelled “He’s just a puppy.” It had the sound of a declaration she has made before. Look bitch, I’m over six feet tall and your dog stands taller than my knee, looks like he weighs 80 – 90 pounds, so let’s not try to define “puppy,” OK? The problem was that she was holding him on a slack leash while my cat is doing cartwheels in his carrier trying to get away and the other dogs in the room can’t get enough of the action. Reel. Him. In.
Also, Saki wants me to make clear he was not afraid. I was afraid. He was just offended by the woman’s bad manners.