Why is it never easy.

A sick friend asked me if I minded taking the dog to the vet. Of course, I didn’t mind. I was a bit busy, but I’d be happy to; I know how important the dog is to my friend. The last time my friend was indisposed, about a year ago, I used to take the dog to the local vet quite regularly; even then it was getting on a bit and needed a bit more maintenance than when it was more sprightly. This time the dog needed an injection for arthritis. It had already had one a week earlier to get the stuff, cartrophen (for those, who are into vetty things), into its system. It would be a quick in, injection and out. Easy. I ask for the appointment to be early afternoon so as to avoid getting caught in the Easter traffic, as everyone gets off work early and flees the city. The appointment was made. All I had to do was go to my friend’s, grab the dog, drive over to the vet’s, hand the dog over, pick up a slightly more pissed off version of the dog and drive back. Half hour job, and it would really help out a friend.

I got to the vet’s – on time for the 2.30 appointment- the receptionist looked at the computer monitor and started pulling faces. No appointment made apparently.

Pardon? Impossible. I explained it was for a follow up with the vet called Jo.

Receptionist gets Jo on the phone. Jo has no recollection of this dog being in for an injection a week ago.

On my rapidly dying mobile, I phone the dog’s owner, who is annoyed. The owner spoke to Jo on the phone. Jo asked for a urine sample and handed out some prescription drugs. Jo must have some recollection.

I wait.

Nope, no recollection.

Well, even in spite of Jo’s short term memory problems, can’t the vet just give the dog the second injection and then I can take it home.

Apparently not. Not without a record of the first one.

Which you should have in your computer after your vet gave the injection and dispensed the drugs, which are now on my friend’s dining room table. I think that’s what’s known as physical evidence.

No.

Do what do I do now? I’m just a taxi driver basically. Do I just take the dog home or wait for you to find the unrecorded consultation from a week ago? The money was accepted and recorded on electronic transfer though.

I call the owner to find out if there was a receipt for the consultation, so we can find it on the system.

The owner starts looking for the receipt and says it will be faxed pronto.

I wait. It’s now 3pm. 5 other appointments behind mine have come and gone.

Another customer comes in with a sick dog. Trying to swallow my growing fury at the utter incompetence of it all, and endeavouring to speak through gritted teeth, I explain to the customer to make sure they get a receipt, as this vet, Jo, has no recollection of a consultation a week ago, speaking to the owner on the phone or handing out prescription drugs, and now wants to charge me for another consultation because their system can’t find my last visit and subsequent payment. It’s a fabulous way of making money for the vet – so don’t fall for it. More people are now within earshot of this explanation and interested.

The receptionist comes back from the fax machine. By now, from my body language and expressions, which aren’t happy ones, I’m sure she’ll be glad when I finally leave her alone and go into a consulting room. But she doesn’t have a fax. Instead, she hands me the landline. Apparently, it’s the owner as my phone has run out o charge and is now just weighing my trousers down.

The owner is distraught. And apologetic.

Apparently, the owner had forgotten to mention that, in the year since I last took the dog to the vet, the owner has been taking the vet to a different vet, who, coincidentally, is also called Jo. Jo’s been waiting for me for nearly 50 minutes.

I take a deep breath. And apologise to the receptionist my accusations and unfounded disgruntlement. behaviour. I drive through the rapidly growing Easter traffic to the other vet practice to wait for a late consult after missing my appointment. The injection and consultation do indeed take about 4 minutes. I drive the dog back to the owner through even bigger traffic, and 2 hours after originally picking it up. The owner is too upset at having unwittingly given the runaround for me to be angry. I end up comforting the owner.