On Being Watched...

The clinic that I work at is a small clinic. It's quiet a lot of the time, and we get these weird walk in, emergency type clients that we see once because their regular vet is closed and then never see again. We have a small group of eccentric regulars. But if it's quiet and there are no in-patients for me to tend to, I do busy work, like cleaning and restocking, making surgery packs, and hanging out with the boarding animals. A lot of the time the doctor will run off to do some errands and it will just be me in the clinic, listening to Q107.

And the doctor has cameras. Set up all over the clinic. Technically he's 24 hours so he SHOULD have a camera set up in the treatment area where there might be sick dogs and cats to watch. But he has taken it a step further. He's camera-fied the entire clinic so that he can spy on his employees. I'll let out a dog to run around in the clinic and get some exercise and then leash it up if it's harrassing the clinic cat. One day when I did that my cell phone instantly rang. It was the doctor. Telling me not to leash the dog up, to let him run free, all of two seconds after I'd leashed the dog up. He was watching me. Creepy.

...And I bet he does it a lot too. It's probably like Facebook to him. Let me just go and check in with what's happening at the clinic! I bet he compulsively checks it - just to see if anyone's doing anyone interesting, if anyone's ripping him off, if anyone's doing anything that they should be fired for. To maintain absolute control.

There is a no cell phone policy in the clinic ("This rule will be enforced!" reads a passive aggressive note in the staff area), so I have to send out my text messages from the washroom, where there's no camera.

So, knowing I'm being watched, I manipulate it. I show my best worker bee to the cameras - look how conscientous I am! Always so busy! Always finding ways to make us look better and be more efficient! Plus, I show the lens my goofy side, me playing with the boarding dogs, or cuddling with Princess, the one eyed, totally obese cat who lives there. Alone in an empty vet clinic, I dance around to classic rock, and sing along, while I'm sweeping and mopping. The doctor has never asked me about it, but I know he knows.

No, that still sucks. Cameras at work suck. A lot.

Senor Snuggles

My cat Senor Snuggles has this hilarious personality. He loooves him some attention, but it's gotta be on his terms. Or he might get a little frisky with his claws. He wants the love, but he selects the time. I am at his beck and call.

We're giving him a dental cleaning at school in a week or so, so he's having to do some travelling. He hates travelling. We went to the vet this week so he could be brought up to date on vaccines. The vet that is a five minute walk from my doorstep. He manages to take his characteristic I'm-in-my-carrier-fuck-you shit in that five minutes. When we brought him out to the exam table, he actually peed on the table. Yeah. I was mortified. Poor Snuggles. He's coming to school with me on Wednesday for his work up - blood collection, x-rays, etc. I'm kind of terrified for him, and for me.

He acts like he doesn't care that he lives here, that he loves me and Siris. And then whenever I pull him out of that environment, he can't handle it. But he's gonna have some nice clean teeth as a result, and I'll save money on potential extractions and complications later. So it's for his own good. And he's always super sucky when I get him back home.

(photo is courtesy of my dogwalker, Kim.)