Lest you think we're all about the bitching about others, I think it's fair to turn the microscope around and point it in the other direction every once in a while.
There's something you should know about Vets. We're disgusting. Nothing phases us. First off, there isn't one of us who hasn't rushed off after an emergency, late for a nice dinner with family or friends, only to look down half-way through the meal at the best restaurant in town to find a giant smear of blood (or WORSE) along the back side of one arm. And that's not the worst of it. We'll get well into a story about pulling a 3-day-dead calf out of a cow before we notice that, during the story, the rest of the dinner party (one by one) have stopped eating, turned green, and slowly lowered their forks to their plates. I usually catch on when they start squirming in their seats. Oh, right. That's inappropriate dinner conversation, isn't it? Mea culpa...
Then there's our tendency to describe everything in food terms. Blood clots found during a necropsy? Well, they're either chicken fat or red currant jelly. Diarrhea? It's pudding or soft-serve ice cream. Anal sac secretions are like gray toothpaste, and I've seen gunk in infected ears that reminded me of peanut butter. Personally, I *really* enjoy a nice juicy cat abscess that pours out strawberry milkshake. And on a long day with no time for a lunch break I once ate pizza while watching two dogs vomit coffee beans and chocolate. They'd raided the presents under the Christmas tree. For a split second I thought to myself, "This should probably make me not want to eat this pizza. Ooh- they put MUSHROOMS on it! Yum!"
Well. Off to lunch. I have a sudden craving for a milkshake.