From Confessions of A Pet Store Employee

One day a few months ago, I was standing out in front of the puppy window, looking over the kennel. I do that sometimes just to get my thoughts in order.

This disheveled looking lady came up to the puppy window, made a bee-line to a black and tan Chihuahua puppy we had and said, "Is that a Yorkus?"

That's how she pronounced Yorkies. So it rhymed with orcas. Yorkus. I learned long ago never to correct someone's pronunciation. People who say dash-hound are convinced that it is supposed to be pronounced dash hound and no crash courses in German or the meaning of the root word "dach" in the word Dachshund is going to make a difference. Same with people who refer to millet spray as mullet. No use telling them mullet is a fish, they don't care. The world, in general, likes to remain ignorant.

So I just said, "No, that's a Chihuahua puppy."

She was unconvinced. "That don't look like no Chihuahua. Looks like a Yorkus to me. You sure that's not a Yorkus?"

Please note, there is a cage card that says, very largely, CHIHUAHUA. Also be aware, this dog looks exactly like a damn Chihuahua and nothing like any Yorkie you've ever seen. She was a smooth coated Chihuahua, not even a long-haired, so the lady didn't have that as an excuse, either.

I just said, "Yes, I'm very sure. That's a Chihuahua puppy."

"Someone could have made a mistake," she says confidently.

"Nope," I reply. I'm getting sort of amused at this point. "That's a Chihuahua. Other dogs besides Yorkies can be black and tan."

"Oh I know," she snaps back, peevishly. "I've had lots of 'em. I even had a white one, oncet."

A white Yorkie? Ooookay. Sure.

"Oh?"

"Yeap. And dont'cha know, I bred her to my male.. Oh, lots of times. Over and over and over again, but not one of them pups ever come out lookin' like a Yorkus?" This said with a slightly probing questioning tone, as if she might like me to throw light on the mystery of why her extraordinarily rare white Yorkus never produced pups that looked like a purebred Yorkshire Terrier.

"You don't say," is all I would give up.

I wasn't about to tell this lady that if her dog was pure white it was not a Yorkie. I'll let someone else fight that battle. Clearly, she wouldn't know a good looking Yorkie if it bit her in the ankle since she's convinced that a Chihuahua is a Yorkie, so what's the point?

"Nope. I could only ever get 'bout 150 dollars for 'em," she said sadly.

I didn't reply, and she didn't say anything for a minute or two, inspecting all the puppies. Suddenly, she hollers over her shoulder at me, accusingly, "What they doin' for water if you let 'em sleep in their water bowls?"

This mistake happens frequently. For the little dogs, I put very large dog bowls in their cages to sleep in. For some reason, people only see the puppy sleeping in a very large dish, completely ignore the other dish filled with food in their cage and the water bottle hanging on the outside, and freak out, saying things like this. Why people think that we would give a 2 pound dog a food bowl big enough for the largest Great Dane in the world, I have no idea. But they do. All the damn time.

"That's not their water bowls. They have water bottles on their cages."

"Well what in the hell is it in there for, then?" She demands.

"For them to sleep in."

"... Oh."

At this, either she felt extremely foolish or she had run out of things to say, because she wandered away, leaving me wondering what in the hell just happened here?

--Confessions of A Pet Store Employee

From MrWhiteLabCoat, TalesFromRetail

While I no longer work in retail, I have some doozies for stories. So why not share some? I used to be an associate manager at a chain pet supply store where we also sold smaller animals.

One day an entire family (Dad, Mom, 5 kids ages between 6 and 13) come into my store and since I was working “customer service” that day I needed to help out anyone that came in the store with any questions and direct them to the right product. No problem, I’ve done it hundreds of times before. So I ask them if they needed help with anything.

All of my discussions from here on out were with the dad.

He told me that they were looking to purchase a rabbit.

OK. No problem. First I bring them over to where we had the rabbits. The kids take a few minutes and pick out the one that they want. I pull him out of the cage and hold him for the kids to pet. I ask the dad if they have ever owned a rabbit before to which he tells me no. After a minute or two we move on our way to get him everything for first time rabbit ownership. I drop the rabbit off to one of the stock guys to box up and take to the cash register for when we are done. Everything goes smoothly. I show him exactly what he needs to properly care for his rabbit. We even grab all items and put them in his cart.

After about 30 min of explaining proper care and everything that is involved he tells me thank you and that he is going to look and shop around a bit more in the store. We part ways and I go onto helping other customers.

Now is where the fun begins.

I get a page from one of our cashiers to come to the front. All staff is taught that if you think an animal might be in danger after it is sold that we contact a manager and they can decide to go through with the sale or not.

So the dad is trying to ring out and the cashier tells me that she doesn’t think what he is buying for it is appropriate. This guy put almost everything we had gotten for the rabbit back. It was apparently too expensive.

Instead he was trying to buy a finch cage, no water dish/bottle, hamster food dish. He also informed me that after we had already discussed that he was keeping the rabbit inside, that his wife felt it better to keep it outside. Which is fine in the right environment, but not in northern Ohio in February without proper dwelling.

I kindly explained that what he was purchasing was insufficient for proper care and that I would not sell him the rabbit if he does not purchase the right products to take care of it.

Guy explodes in anger that I am ruining his son’s birthday and I know nothing about animals. He requests to speak to a manager.

Trying to suppress my rage at being yelled at I tell him that I am the manager.

More yelling ensues.

I kindly tell him that due to his yelling and attitude that he should leave the store and that we would not be selling him any animal at any time. But instead he points at the office where our store manager is sitting and demands to speak with her.

Our office was open half wall, so she has heard this whole exchange with the dad. She walks down and without even letting him speak tells him he can either leave on his own or have the police remove him in handcuffs. It was his choice.

The stifled rage in his face was golden. A stream of obscenities came from him as the family left the store. Without a rabbit.

--MrWhiteLabCoat

From pseudomugil, TalesFromThePetShop

Hello tales from the pet store, I just stumbled across this community from a post at tales from retail and thought I might contribute.

I used to work at an awesome little mom and pop pet store in the fish area (really the only live animals we sold), and among other shenanigans which happened there, there was this lady who would come in roughly once a month on a Saturday.

She would, no matter how busy it was, ask question after question about the fish, waiting for you to mess up your facts even a little bit. then she would spend the next twenty minutes just tearing you a new one; things like "how am I supposed to trust you if you don't even know what you're talking about" and "you're lucky these fish are even alive with how incompetent you are" let alone that it took fifteen minutes of constant grilling to get me to mess up.

I think it was her Saturday entertainment, and she never bought anything.

One very slow summer Saturday she came in and was the only customer in the store, so I made it my goal to stump her. She ended up grilling me for the best part of 45 minutes and then hurriedly leaving in a huff.

The next time she came in was on a Saturday I wasn't working, and apparently she was especially mean to the girl working the fish room that day who (from what I heard) spent much of the rest of her shift in the break room crying.

Thankfully we had supportive managers and after it became apparent that this was a pattern, she was banned from the store for harassing staff members.

--pseudomugil

From dumbpetstorecustomers, justpetstorethings

 Me: Thank you for calling your local Petco, this is Customer Service, how may I help you?

Customer: I want to schedule my three year old Pomeranian, Fluffy for a groom. How much does it cost?

Me: Let me transfer you to grooming.

Customer: Can't you just let me know and schedule me now?

-------------------------

Customer: I've had my bearded dragon on sand for three years and I haven't had a problem until now.

Employee: You should take them off of sand. Here are a few safer alternatives.

Customer: I don't want to switch him off sand. He was fine until now, just tell me how to fix it.

-------------------------

Customer: I cleaned my tank out and all my fish died!

Me: Did you wash your tank with soap?

Customer: Yes?

Omfg stop, two days out of the week I have to ask my customers this.

They are fish you ding dong, do you see lakes naturally making dawn dish soap?!

Frick.

Water change once a week people it’s not rocket science.

--dumbpetstorecustomers

From dumbpetstorecustomers, justpetstorethings

Me: Did you need help finding anything today, ma'am?

Customer: I'm just looking for a tiny container for my red eared slider.

Me: There is no such thing as a little container for a red eared slider.

Customer: Well, he's super tiny so I don't need anything big.

Me: If you don't provide him the proper size enclosure with a basking platform, filtered and heated water, a basking light, UV lighting, and a proper diet with added calcium and vitamins you WILL kill him.

Customer: If you aren't going to help me find a little container I'll just take my business somewhere else!

--dumbpetstorecustomers

From dumbpetstorecustomers, justpetstorethings

Customer: continues to walk as their dog poops on the floor

Me: Excuse me, your dog seems to be making a mess.

Customer: Oh! Sorry! *customer waits for dog to finish and then starts to walk away*

Me: *hands them a bag and paper towels* Here you go.

Customer: Wait, isn't this your job?

Me: No, because that is not MY dog.

--dumbpetstorecustomers