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Letters to my co-workers
Aug. 14th, 2005 05:58 pmAs this is very likely my last weekend as a kennel worker, possibly my last weekend period, I would like to take this opportunity to send a few messages that my co-workers and clients will never receive.
To the owners of the four extremely geriatric dogs that were boarding this weekend: Your pets are in pain. You are not doing them any favors by keeping them alive, only serving your own desires. It’s time to let them go. It’s not normal to have bed sores the size of oranges on your dog’s elbows, or for him to walk with his back arched and not be able to bend his knees. He looks like a wind up toy. And to the owner of the dog with a watch on him: just because he bit you does not mean that you should leave him with us indefinitely. He has arthritis, bladder cancer, eye problems and god knows what else, let him go. And to the owner of the neurological dog- we are not a nursing home. If you do not want to deal with your animal, find it another home or have it put to sleep. Do not dump it at our office to board every other week, where it will walk in circles in its cage and bark incessantly and soil multiple cages in each day. We don’t want to deal with it any more than you do.
To the groomer: You’re such a hypocrite. You badmouth us to the founding doctor when you loose a client because of the state of the kennel, which we can’t do anything about. We keep it clean, with no help from you. It looks like shit because it’s 37 years old. We can’t do anything about the permanent stains on the cement, the fossilized clumps of hair in the chain link runs, the ever-clogging drains, the air circulation, the mold or the lighting. I am not going to start folding the towels into thirds because it won’t make any difference as to whether the cupboard doors stay closed. If I could venture to make a suggestion, it might do more good to fix the doors so they’re actually attached to the sides of the cupboards. But of course, I’m just a lowly kennel worker, no one listens to me. And you cannot bitch about the kennel not being clean when you leave your workspace covered in hair at the end of a day, and I have to go in behind you and spray it down after you leave. And I’d better not hear anything about the water and your precious instruments. Oh, and the neurological dog is not poor and misunderstood, it’s just pathetic and annoying and I refuse to feed the damn thing by hand when there’s 10 other dogs waiting to be walked and fed. And Rebel was overweight because you persisted in feeding him multiple treats a day, and Mary Jane was very aggressive. I was there when her owner brought her back to us to be euthanized, she had bitten his daughter. Just energetic and cooped up too long, she has a great personality, eh?
To the assistants, techs and doctors who bring their animals in for the day and leave the cages dirty: It is not my responsibility to clean up after your animals. I have this from the top-level management. You are supposed to clean up the messes your dog makes, so do it! And do not leave the cage dirty with a note to leave for Lexi, Lilly, Major, Gorpy, etc. We do have clients that come in and their dogs need cages too sometimes, which doesn’t work if the cages are being held for your own animals.
To the night staff: Your job description does include cleaning occasionally. I know that your primary purpose is to be there when emergencies come in, but that does not mean that you have to sit there twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the night. Please, if a dog shits in his cage, do not simply move the animal over or just leave it where it is. At least take the time to spray the area down with parvasol, so I don’t come in to shitty cages that have had 8 hours to solidify and have to be scrubbed off. The same goes for mats. Contrary to popular belief, I do not like dog shit any more than you do, and 10 seconds taken by you at the time of the soiling saves me 10 minutes of hassle in the morning. The same goes for blood- the longer it sits on the floor the harder it is to get up.
To the mid-level manager who rescues bulldogs: Your dogs are annoying. They are aggressive and they bark constantly, and on the rare occasions when they are not barking you come back and talk to them in that annoying high-pitched voice and they start right back up again. They’re not even that cute, they look more like demented bats.
To all the staff who never move when I am trying to vacuum or mop: Please, take a second to step aside. Given the number of animals that pass though this office in a day, you are almost certainly standing on something that I need to get up, and clean floors are in everyone’s best interest. And I am not invisible, by the way. I do listen to what goes on around me. Some of you seem to think that if I have a trash bag or broom in my hand I may as well not be there. I have heard a lot of interesting conversations because of this, including some that you probably wouldn’t have wanted me to hear if you had realized I was there.
To everyone who took the time to appreciate what I did while I was there: Thank you. There are precious few of you, and if there were more I would have enjoyed this job a lot more. You have no idea how nice it is to simply be acknowledged, to have someone say “Thank you” and “Excuse me.” Even the worst parts of the job become better when someone recognizes that it sucks and thanks you for doing it. And to Tami and Drew, the only tech and assistant who ever took the time to help me out when I was running behind, you guys are awesome. You have no idea how nice it is to come out of the kennel at 6:30, sweaty, covered in hair and running an hour behind, to find that the treatment area has been swept or the dishes have been done. I wish there were more people like you working here, the whole place would run a lot more smoothly if people would take the time to notice if someone else is running behind, and help them out if they have spare time.
To the owners of the four extremely geriatric dogs that were boarding this weekend: Your pets are in pain. You are not doing them any favors by keeping them alive, only serving your own desires. It’s time to let them go. It’s not normal to have bed sores the size of oranges on your dog’s elbows, or for him to walk with his back arched and not be able to bend his knees. He looks like a wind up toy. And to the owner of the dog with a watch on him: just because he bit you does not mean that you should leave him with us indefinitely. He has arthritis, bladder cancer, eye problems and god knows what else, let him go. And to the owner of the neurological dog- we are not a nursing home. If you do not want to deal with your animal, find it another home or have it put to sleep. Do not dump it at our office to board every other week, where it will walk in circles in its cage and bark incessantly and soil multiple cages in each day. We don’t want to deal with it any more than you do.
To the groomer: You’re such a hypocrite. You badmouth us to the founding doctor when you loose a client because of the state of the kennel, which we can’t do anything about. We keep it clean, with no help from you. It looks like shit because it’s 37 years old. We can’t do anything about the permanent stains on the cement, the fossilized clumps of hair in the chain link runs, the ever-clogging drains, the air circulation, the mold or the lighting. I am not going to start folding the towels into thirds because it won’t make any difference as to whether the cupboard doors stay closed. If I could venture to make a suggestion, it might do more good to fix the doors so they’re actually attached to the sides of the cupboards. But of course, I’m just a lowly kennel worker, no one listens to me. And you cannot bitch about the kennel not being clean when you leave your workspace covered in hair at the end of a day, and I have to go in behind you and spray it down after you leave. And I’d better not hear anything about the water and your precious instruments. Oh, and the neurological dog is not poor and misunderstood, it’s just pathetic and annoying and I refuse to feed the damn thing by hand when there’s 10 other dogs waiting to be walked and fed. And Rebel was overweight because you persisted in feeding him multiple treats a day, and Mary Jane was very aggressive. I was there when her owner brought her back to us to be euthanized, she had bitten his daughter. Just energetic and cooped up too long, she has a great personality, eh?
To the assistants, techs and doctors who bring their animals in for the day and leave the cages dirty: It is not my responsibility to clean up after your animals. I have this from the top-level management. You are supposed to clean up the messes your dog makes, so do it! And do not leave the cage dirty with a note to leave for Lexi, Lilly, Major, Gorpy, etc. We do have clients that come in and their dogs need cages too sometimes, which doesn’t work if the cages are being held for your own animals.
To the night staff: Your job description does include cleaning occasionally. I know that your primary purpose is to be there when emergencies come in, but that does not mean that you have to sit there twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the night. Please, if a dog shits in his cage, do not simply move the animal over or just leave it where it is. At least take the time to spray the area down with parvasol, so I don’t come in to shitty cages that have had 8 hours to solidify and have to be scrubbed off. The same goes for mats. Contrary to popular belief, I do not like dog shit any more than you do, and 10 seconds taken by you at the time of the soiling saves me 10 minutes of hassle in the morning. The same goes for blood- the longer it sits on the floor the harder it is to get up.
To the mid-level manager who rescues bulldogs: Your dogs are annoying. They are aggressive and they bark constantly, and on the rare occasions when they are not barking you come back and talk to them in that annoying high-pitched voice and they start right back up again. They’re not even that cute, they look more like demented bats.
To all the staff who never move when I am trying to vacuum or mop: Please, take a second to step aside. Given the number of animals that pass though this office in a day, you are almost certainly standing on something that I need to get up, and clean floors are in everyone’s best interest. And I am not invisible, by the way. I do listen to what goes on around me. Some of you seem to think that if I have a trash bag or broom in my hand I may as well not be there. I have heard a lot of interesting conversations because of this, including some that you probably wouldn’t have wanted me to hear if you had realized I was there.
To everyone who took the time to appreciate what I did while I was there: Thank you. There are precious few of you, and if there were more I would have enjoyed this job a lot more. You have no idea how nice it is to simply be acknowledged, to have someone say “Thank you” and “Excuse me.” Even the worst parts of the job become better when someone recognizes that it sucks and thanks you for doing it. And to Tami and Drew, the only tech and assistant who ever took the time to help me out when I was running behind, you guys are awesome. You have no idea how nice it is to come out of the kennel at 6:30, sweaty, covered in hair and running an hour behind, to find that the treatment area has been swept or the dishes have been done. I wish there were more people like you working here, the whole place would run a lot more smoothly if people would take the time to notice if someone else is running behind, and help them out if they have spare time.
