Worst weekend EVER. EEEVVVVEEERRR. So we woke up on Sunday morning and Maya's little post-surgery belly was all swollen and saggy so we took her to the emergency vet right away where I got to experience the kind of blind fury that I haven't felt since my early days of travel on I-4.First off, I am well aware that the emergency places take people on order of importance, so if we're not a big priority, that's actually a good thing. But we got there and were the only people in the waiting room. That's a good sign. While we're waiting some gangly man that resembled a festering boil comes in with his "itchy cat." I heard him explain to the cooing office receptionist how he had let his cat out and it seemed to be itching a lot after coming back in. Maybe it has fleas or had been bit by ants? Then we were called into a waiting room. While we were waiting, I commented to mike that it was weird that not a single person was making a big deal over Maya. Not because she was sick but because usually she is the star of the room wherever we go. For example, our regular vet passes her around so that everyone can see "just the cutest dog ever" before she even gets checked in. This was clearly a place for cat lovers. It was only confirmed by the fact that the ONLY magazines to read while you wait were cat fancy and the walls were covered with cat art. Whatever, anyway. So after a little over an hour of sitting on a crappy wooden bench that would only be more uncomfortable if one of the wooden beams was jammed up my ass, I started getting angry. THEN... I hear this laughing. Some lady had come out of her appointment and was holding her cat (shocker) and explaining to the receptionist lady what had happened. "Oh my goodness, the vet said we got here just in time! If it had been any longer Lady Carmelita could have died!"She said this as if reading headlines off of the enquirer in line at the grocery store. The front desk lady LAUGHS and says:"Oh, lucky Carmelita, what happened?"Crazy lady says: "Well, she woke me up at around one in the morning struggling to breathe.""Well, its a good thing we got you all fixed up then!"Let's examine this for a moment. This conversation took place at 1:17 in the afternoon on Sunday. What kind of stupid MORON wakes up at one in the morning to their pet gasping for breath and doesn't rush straight to the emergency vet in their PJs? Okay, lets give this housewife the benefit of the doubt and say that she never in her wildest dreams would have figured out that the emergency vet is open all night. Don't you think she would be here FIRST THING in the morning and not the MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON? And what the hell is up with the receptionist laughing about it? I would have hit her in the face and turn the cat in to the SPCA. See, look, I'm feeling the rage all over again.NEXT to my COMPLETE AND UTTER DISMAY, Mr. Itchy cat checks out. You have GOT to be kidding me. Some itchy cat is a bigger priority than my puppy who is bleeding out the stomach? From this point on a constant strain of steady obscenities cam out of my mouth and I'm pretty sure they heard every word since I could hear every word they said out there. After waiting for close to three hours, we saw a vet for 9.7 seconds, paid over a hundred dollars and I had to leave work to go back to my regular vet this morning. Words can't express my urge to kill right now. Seriously, your cat hasn't take a normal breath in over 12 hours, emergency. Okay. Your cat sat on an ant hill = not my problem. I have never been so pissed in my life. I am going to go hit something.