I don’t know if Kafka ever wrote about animal hospitals

The future of animal hospitals will be the ones that generate transparency. All the gutless uncertainty at the front desk will disappear, replaced with glass walls—no longer will you hear, “I’m not sure”, “maybe”, or “He just vomited again but it could have been because he was tugging too hard on the leash when we walked him to the back room.” Yeah, maybe my lifeless pup who had to be carried into the waiting room tugged too hard on the leash, but who can really say? “We just don’t know! But we do like casting aspersions to fill the air and watch you writhe!”

Note the sprightly look of wickedness in someone’s eyes when they deliberately withhold the smallest, most minute elements of clarity that can help you breathe. When can he be seen? I’m not sure. Where are you taking him? Um, we’ll let you know in a bit. Can I expect that report by Friday? Maybe! Is this dish definitely free of nuts? I think so! The abject refusal to commit to any kind of detail allows the ripples of trauma to keep spilling out into the world, as people inflict tiny, imperceptible wounds on each other—all of them thinly cloaked in a veneer of politeness—while you continue to sit in the waiting room, searching your bag for your epipen, waiting for your throat to close up.