Mouth filters and rocket cats

I love saying things as descriptively as possible. Sometimes this causes problems in a society where we make up less offensive names for things, which I think is hilarious. It also draws strange looks from people when I laugh at their reactions to my way of saying things.

We're so afraid to face to the things we're saying that we filter words from ourselves. Instead of saying Poor, we say Less Fortunate. Instead of saying Starving to death, we say Hungry. Instead of saying Dying a slow and horrible death, we say Not Well. 

If only we had a universal translator type of device, like the ones from Star Trek, but instead of translating foreign languages, it would take all literal descriptions of things and convert them into safe little happy words before they hit the ears of people around me. In a wearable headphone form factor. I think I might be onto something here.

That being said, yesterday morning I took our cat, who is only 6 months old, to get his balls cut off. I choose that wording, because it's true. I didn't take him to get fixed, because he wasn't broken. I took him to get his balls cut off.

I didn't expect the time I spent waiting for the nurse(?) to come get him in the waiting room to be something to write about, but I was wrong.

First, while filling out the admission papers I heard a commotion, which turned out to be a grown, intelligent woman opening the door of her pet kennel to say goodbye to her kitty cat... He ran out of the kennel, through the lobby, and out the front door into the parking lot, through the grass of the neighboring property, and into a 90+ foot tall oak tree. Two of the nurses(?) grabbed cat nets, which they had within arms reach behind the counter, and bolted through the front door after rocket cat.

I finished the paperwork and sat down on a bench, which faced another bench. There was a sweet middle aged lady there with her dog, who's fur was groomed, except for it's head which made the fur on it's head look like a chia pet afro. It was a sweet, scared dog. I asked her why she was here and she told me that afrodog had cancer in her mouth and had to come every six months to have it removed. I could tell that this dog was her best friend. There was no wedding ring, and she was more than affectionate towards this dog. I've witnessed people who love their pets before, but this was something more, I was honestly a little surprised at how this made me feel. Some people have large families, with kids, grandkids, etc. But this lady had her dog.

As I left, the two nurses(?) with their cat nets walked back into the building, defeated by rocket cat. The owner stood under the tree trying to coax the cat down by meowing at it.

Yep.

I went back later in the day to pick up the cat, walked up to the desk and said "Hi, I'm here to pick up K.J., he had his balls cut off today.", which prompted the elderly Asian lady standing next to me to step a few feet away, which made the girl behind the counter laugh, which made me write this post. If I would have said "Hello, I'm here to pick up K.J., he was fixed today" the lady would have thought nothing of it, but by saying what it was instead of filtering it into a more friendly word for her benefit it became offensive.

There's something wrong with that.