How to Conduct Yourself When You are at an Emergency Veterinary Hospital

     I know (and dare I say, hope?) that this article is going to be redundant for most of you. I know, deep down, that most people are normally rational, sane, and considerate, but I also know that people are entangled, distracted, and engrossed by their day-to-day lives. As it is, most of us have several different roles to play, and sometimes those roles in life contradict one another so much that the transition from one role to another alone causes our synapses to delay for a moment or two- it's a complicated process. That said, it is inevitable that we will unintentionally tread on one another's toes from time to time simply because, as a rule, human beings are always engaged with one thing or another. When we are unencumbered, matters of basic etiquette are a complete no-brainer. I'm sure that I can safely assume that you are fairly unburdened with tasks at the moment if you are reading this, so my apologies if this seems obvious to you. The goal of this post, and of this whole blog at the moment, is to call attention to the rude things that we do to one another simply because we're not paying attention. I genuinely feel that if we, as a society, are even slightly more mindful of how our actions affect others, the world will be a nicer place to be.
     High ambitions, you might think, for someone who likes to say "fuck" as much as I do, but that's a blog post for another time. I just want to get across here that I'm not trying to talk down to any of you. I'm not trying to pretend that I can't be just as careless as the next guy from time to time. This is something we all face, so I'd like to make this blog approachable; I'm not going to speak to you as if you are my boss, my new neighbor, or as anyone who I would have to censor myself with. For the purposes of this blog, whoever you are, wherever you are, you are my friend, and I will talk to you as such. Bottom line, I like curse words, and if you ever want to know if I'm lying about a subject that I'm passionate about, count how many vulgarities I've used in my diatribe; if it's fewer than 3, chances are, I'm bullshitting you. Immediately disregard whatever the hell I was just talking about in that circumstance. 
     Now that we've gotten the "Getting to Know You" topic covered, let's get down to the main purpose of this article. As some of you may know, my boyfriend Matt and I recently had to have our rat, Molly, put to sleep due to an incurable illness. If you can't put yourself in the position of loving a pet rat, then by all means, pretend she was a puppy. I'm not here to try to convince you about the merits of pet rats. That said, it was not an easy decision to make, and we really didn't want to let her go, but it was more than apparent that the time had come after we got off work one night. We spent some time with her and said our goodbyes before heading off to the Calumet emergency vet hospital. It was really hard. It sucked, in fact. So understandably, (and again, if you don't understand, just think 'puppy,') we were distraught. We were sobbing, our eyes red and swollen, our spirits broken. We were greeted solemnly and compassionately by the staff and set to work on the Consent to Perform Euthanasia Form. As we did so, the tech behind the counter was asking us questions about Molly, for the dual purpose of showing compassion for our impending loss as well as to gather necessary information for her files. As this was going on, Matt had retreated into himself and was occupied with his own thoughts, while I was trying to focus on the task at hand by speaking with the tech, each of us working through our sorrow in our own way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man curiously eyeing us and our miniature, jaunty-looking pet carrier.  From what I could glean at that moment, despite his obvious (and understandable) curiosity, the man was either very worried about the state of his pet, mildly intellectually disabled, or moderately drunk.
     Either way, the man gave a brief pause before approaching us, then promptly discarded any semblance of convention or common decency by blurting "Whachoo got in there?" whilst pressing his nose against Molly's carrier- all while I was still filling out the form that would essentially be my pet's death sentence. Keep in mind, this was a pet who was suffering and dying as we spoke. She was in a strange place with smells and people that she did not recognize, and she was trapped within the confines of her carrier, making it so that she could not get away from this stranger she knew nothing about, whether his intentions toward her were for good or ill. This is akin, in my mind, to aimlessly walking around a hospital until you find the room of an Alzheimer's patient, entering the room, and shoving the nearest cylindrical object up said patient's nose to see what they'll do. The man then made small talk, asking questions about owning a rat and how we interacted with her. The content of our conversation eliminated the possibility that the man was in any way handicapped. I am still unsure as to whether he was just an inveterate drinker whose few remaining brain cells were simply not enough for him to express or even understand empathy, or if he was, in fact, blind drunk at the moment. 
     All of these things aside, I could have dismissed his transgressions were we not at a goddamned emergency pet hospital. What part of Emergency Hospital implies casual social interaction? What should prompt a person to look into the tear-streaked faces of complete strangers and think, "What a good time to strike up a conversation!" Fucking nothing, you stupid twat, that's what. Keep in mind that one of the first things we had said to the man was that we were there to have our pet's life terminated. At that point, even if you don't feel a damn thing for the people you're talking to, or their pet, you put on your best frowny face, say something trite and generic like, "I'm so sorry to hear that" and move on.
      But this man was apparently as tenacious in his desire for banal discourse as he was oblivious. He continued to converse with us as we finished up the paperwork and spoke with the tech about how the procedure would be carried out- she would be allowed to remain in her carrier which would then be placed inside a sealed enclosure. The enclosure, and subsequently, her carrier (which was a comfortable and familiar environment due to her many vet trips), would fill with a gas which would make her feel relaxed and euphoric at first and would then make her fall into a deep sleep, at which time, the euthanasia agent, which was also a gas, would effectively end her life. As we said goodbye one more time and handed her over to the tech, the man watched us cry for a moment before looking at Matt and remarking, "Boy, he's really upset, huh?"
     Let me simplify this situation for anyone who may not have been able to follow my somewhat winding narrative: man watches us spend last few moments with our pet, has no idea who we are, sees our hearts break and intrudes upon what should have been a very private moment. Incredulously observes aloud to the entire waiting room that we are mourning. If there were ever a *drops mic* moment in my life, that should have been it. If it had been the most important thing to me at the time, I would have verbally eviscerated that brainless motherfucker in the amount of time that it had apparently taken him to decide to encroach upon us in the first place.
      Because he didn't think. Because our situation was, in his mind, secondary to his own (I should add that his dog was totally fine after minor treatment). Not because he meant harm, or because he meant to treat us callously, but because he was too wrapped up in his own situation to consider how his actions might have affected other people. And that, my friends, is the crux of my argument. We all have things that we are carrying around. Not one of us breezes through this life without emotional scars. Our pain reminds us that we are united, so a life without troubles would be a lonely one, indeed. Our pain reminds us that we are alive, of how short and precious those lives are. So be good to yourselves, and be good to others. You may have your engagements, your requirements, your troubles, but that does not allow you to justify unkind or otherwise rude actions taken against another.
     In closing, I'd like to leave you with a video of my rat, Badger, because rats are awesome, and Badger was awesome.