The art of reading the room
Before last week, I hadn't ever really brought this thought to consciousness, but last week I had an experience that made me realize what an integral part of my practice reading the room is.
You may have seen that recently we had to put our dog down (RIP, Sue 😭). We did what we thought was the right thing and called an at-home euthanasia vet. When the vet arrived she was loud and disorganized, carrying a tote bag full of empty boxes, trash, and other miscellaneous supplies - it just wasn't professional and put me off, but that's not really the point of this story.
She briefly introduced herself to us and our dog and we got started. But while she was working on filling syringes and measuring supplies, her focus was not on us or our dog at all. Like… at all?
She wasn’t aware of my profession but noticed our horses in the pasture and spoke of her daughter who rides jumpers, her own experience riding horses, and how she had to go hand-walk a horse on a rehab protocol after she finished with our dog. She audibly squealed when our horses walked up closer to the house and talked about how beautiful they were and commented on each of their colors. No questions of our dog, if we'd like to say goodbye, or reading our uncomfortable and quiet body language during her dissertation about her horse experience.
Now, under any other circumstances, I obviously would love to talk horses! Especially a horse in rehab. But in this situation, I was the client and these were my last moments with my dog. She was oblivious to my discomfort and went on and on about her daughter's horse experience and fancy internship with a jumping trainer last summer, etc. etc.
A little after 5 minutes in, I finally lost my patience. I interrupted one of her horse stories her to say "I'm sorry, can we work in silence for a few minutes? I'd like us to place our focus on Sue". She was a bit taken aback but agreed and continued to fill syringes and communicated that we were just waiting for the sedative to kick in.
I was furious. At this point, during her stories, our dog had been administered his sedative with no communication to us that our opportunity to say goodbye had passed. He was sleeping now, but the euthanasia hadn't been administered yet, as she still had to insert the IV to administer the euthanasia itself.
The rest of the story is traumatic. Reader warning advised.
She spent more than 30 minutes trying to insert the IV into the vein. For 30+ minutes we watched as our dog got shaved and poked on all 4 legs, repeatedly. Granted, he was sedated so he didn’t feel a thing - but it was awful to watch. Getting closer to losing my patience again, I asked if this was going to happen or if we should consider alternatives. Ultimately, she conceded that she would not likely be able to get the vein to administer the euthanasia itself and we should seek alternative arrangements. She left, which, oddly, was a relief.
We were left with just myself, my husband, and a sleeping Sue.
Ultimately, my husband had to finish the job of escorting Sue across the rainbow bridge (which is absolutely awful but I'm so grateful for a ranch husband who is capable of doing such hard things 💔).
While it's a sad and traumatic story, my biggest takeaway was being flabbergasted at this vet's inability to read the room.
We made it so clear with both our body language and our words that this was a solemn day for us, that we loved this dog and it was hard to say goodbye, and we wanted our final moments to be quiet and peaceful with him. Yet the message didn't get across to her.
AND THIS IS HER JOB. She reiterated a few times that she's done "10,000 euthanasias". Well, that's great but this was the 1 that's important to me.
So, how does this relate to business, and especially to equine bodywork?
The art of reading the room. The importance of reading the room. The necessity of it to foster a postive professional -> client relationship.
Reading the room is something I’ve now realized that I do at each session, unconsciously. And I also now realize how important that is to the success of my business, to the relationships I build with my clients, and to the integrity of my work with your horses.
I hope when I arrive at your barn, you feel that my energy matches yours (and your horse's!) and I hope that I make you feel like your horse is the most important thing to me while I'm there - because your horse is the most important thing to me while I'm there ❤️ The art of reading the room is imbedded in my practice and I attribute so much of that to my success in bodywork - my clients feel my genuine support and love for them and their animals.
In loving memory of our big boy named Sue. Love ya forever, Slobber Goof 💖
