The Two-Legged One's As Bad As The Four-Legged Ones

The general rule about how to deal with children in the consult room is: don't. Ignore them. Let the parents manage them and stay out of it. As a vet student I'm pretty good at this because while shadowing the vets, all I do is stand in a corner and stay silent, anyway (and subtly get my hands all over the animals doing a quiet physical exam, usually).

Today there was a four-year-old in our consult for a pair of Italian Greyhounds. These dogs were tiny, skinny, nervous, rat-like things that took some time for me to warm up to--even the client didn't like them. She was taking care of them for someone else, and one of the first things she said was "I'd never own dogs like these!" and I couldn't blame her. I ignored her little boy as I'm wont to do, but still enjoyed the progression of his behaviours through the consult.

Stage 1: I didn't notice him at all. I was half-listening to the vet talk about routine vaccination stuff.

Stage 2: I guess he got bored, too, because he decided to be Spiderman (I learned this after the fact). This involved him crawling around in circles on the floor, on four legs, making growly noises, and all of a sudden I found myself trying not to step on him in the same way I was trying not to step on the nervous dog. I wasn't looking at all, and felt some playfulness at the bottom of my pants leg, like a dog pulling on it or batting at it. Turns out it was actually the kid, mock attacking my leg. I still don't understand how this relates to Spiderman, but it was pretty much indistinguishable from what it's like in a puppy consult.

Stage 3: Mom told him not to do that to the lady, and that he can't play Spiderman right now. He stopped, pressed himself against the wall, and became completely still, silent, and sullen. Mom mentioned that he's hiding so we can't see him. At the sound of his name, he complains repeatedly to be left alone.

Stage 4: The vet produced a shiny toy that was as effective in entertaining vet students as little kids. It was a bright, highlighter-yellow, reflective band, of the sort that you smack against your wrist and they curl up. Then you have the pleasure of unfolding them, snapping them into a straight band again, and repeat. Reluctantly, I handed it off to the little kid, and he got as much pleasure out of this as I did. This kept him occupied for a long time, especially since he couldn't figure out how to snap it back straight, so it kept flying out of his hands and curling up again.

Stage 5: He climbed into the empty dog carrier and closed the lid over himself.