…whenever you get talking to someone new they whip out a picture of their puppy/kitten/corn snake and give you the full history. Plus the history of the rest of their pets. Oh, and their family’s pets. And friend’s. And neighbour’s.
I’ve heard that this one doesn’t change!
…you go to buy petrol, not realising you still have your Faculty of Veterinary Science name badge on, and rather than being asked the usual, ‘do you have a Nectar card?’, you are asked, ’small or large animals?’
Took me by surprise, but made me smile.
Hehe, this is fun. Add your own if you have them!
Excuse the truly awful pun.
It’s amusing watching the different reactions of animals as they come into the vets. Some love it, and will get so ridiculously over-excited that it’s impossible to examine them because they just want to give you a great big slobbery kiss. Others go the opposite way, making it impossible to examine them without using heavy-duty gloves, a large towel and a crush cage. Pets seem to have a sixth sense for detecting ‘vet time’, and even before the box is brought down from the loft, owners have often told me how cats mysteriously hide at the top of the garden in the few hours before their appointment.
I dread to think what it’s like if you’ve got, say, a field full of sheep with one that needs examining… but won’t go anywhere near you. Perhaps it would be like my recent experience of chasing one recalcitrant sheep down a country lane, because it wouldn’t follow the other 150 sheep into the next field. As Alf Wight (aka James Herriot) would say, that’s one area where I will have to learn the ‘art’, rather than the ‘science’ of a veterinary career!
Me: “I’m going to the vets soon!”
Friend: “Oh? Are you ill??”
I can’t tell you the number of times that I’ve heard that joke, or the equivalent in the last few weeks. Aha – you’re funny people! 
