Customer Service Woes

At present, there are few entities I disdain more than my former pet insurance company. (I know, I know - it's weird to have pet insurance. You see, what happens is that you go and pick up a cute little puppy from the pound, and they offer you a few months of free pet insurance as a thank you for adopting a homeless dog. You think this is incredibly sweet, and you never sleep anymore because you're house training a puppy, so you don't notice when the letter arrives in the mail telling you that you're on a short-term plan, but that it will automatically renew if you don't send a letter, and then, before you know it, they have access to your direct deposit, and they own you. It sucks.) Well, my dog passed away right before last Thanksgiving, and the pet insurance company has not only spent six months taking monthly payments out of my checking account for a policy on a dead dog, but also continually ignores my current claim related to his passing. I have sent the same faxes three and four times over, my veterinarian has threatened to never recommend their policies ever again, and I call and call and call. However, despite all this, what annoys me most is the way that they try to "handle" me on the phone. Every time I call, a customer service agent asks me what happened to my dog. Now, we all know that they know exactly what happened to my dog. They are staring at the computer screen with my claim for euthanasia on it. (In all of my experience, euthanasia has never been a go-to topic for fun and laughs.) But, they make me tell them anyway because I know that they're hoping to move me away from anger and frustration to sadness. What they need to learn is that this will never happen. Just today, I am on a double dose of Tylenol Allergy/Sinus because I can't breathe through my nose, my last paid writing gig was researching trivia about the state of Florida for middle school students, I haven't been on a date in the year of 2006, my downstairs neighbor thinks that everyone wants to hear trance music or Reba McEntire's "Fancy" at all hours of the day and night, and I am doing laundry at my parent's house in an airbrush t-shirt that says "Live the Dream" while watching "Yes, Dear." There's no way Petcare Pet Insurance is going to be the one that breaks me. If I find a reason to cry, I guarantee you that my pet insurance company won't be it. And, considering that I had to fight back the urge to tell one rep that "I would end him" this afternoon, I really do hope for all of our sakes that this matter is cleared up soon.