I worked at a veterinary clinic for a few years. It was a good experience.

But I remember some awful dogs by name. One that comes to mind every once in a while was “Dave.” I hated Dave. He was a medium-sized black Lab mix who had been adopted from the shelter. He was an asshole. Any time you had to do anything, like cut his nails or examine him, he had to wear a muzzle.

Well, his owner was helping me lift him on the examining table one day, and he wasn’t wearing a muzzle (owners generally don’t like them). And the damn thing snapped around and chomped on his owner’s hand. And I don’t mean a little warning nip or an automatic reaction to pain. I mean he aggressively sunk his tooth in so hard that she had a hole in her hand and it started gushing blood.

As I scrambled around gathering medical supplies, she proceeded to excuse Dave’s behavior. Would she have done the same if he had bitten me? I think so.

Had he been my dog I would have euthanized him on the spot. “Sorry, Sparky, but I would have thrown my husband out of the house for less.”

Advertisements