The truth of the matter

ONE of our vets was minding her own business, checking her phone, when it happened.

She was sitting in her vehicle, parked at a supermarket. Out of the blue, her car was struck by another one, driven by an elderly lady.

No one was hurt and the OAP apologetic and insisted she’d pay for any damage.

Indeed, by the time she had explained that she was very upset and had never had an accident in over 50 years of driving, our compassionate professional was feeling quite sorry for the poor lady.

The latter then checked out her own vehicle, which was scratched at one corner. “Not too bad,” exclaimed the “firsttime” accident causer. “That will T-cut out no problem!”

She then proceeded to her boot where she took out a well-used bottle of T-cut and a duster and set to repairing the damage with some gusto.

The incident got me thinking that we are all, at some point, guilty of blissfully stating the complete opposite to the truth, while really, really believing what we are saying.

There are many examples in the veterinary world.

Some are obvious, such as the owner of the hugely obese Labrador that can barely waddle into the surgery, who states that she “hardly feeds her anything at all”.

Similarly, the proud keeper of the Persian cat that requires to be sedated and clipped out for over an hour because his coat is so badly matted, who assures us that she combs the wee chap every single day.

But clients do not have a monopoly on this type of behaviour. There may be the veterinary receptionist who prides herself on customer care but doesn’t always smile when answering the phone.

Or the vet who thinks his bedside manner is exemplary but is occasionally to be found washing his hands and talking to the sink rather than the anxious client behind him.

As I said, there are so many examples but the one thing they all have in common is that each requires a third party to take a deep breath and point out the delusional nature of the situation.

For everyone’s sake.