Last week, I mentioned that I had to do a euthanasia where the owner chose not to be present, and it was a little emotionally challenging for me. I was more upset about the day than the fact that the owners left, and I mentioned it only to illustrate that I needed to lean on my techs to help me out with the part that I normally do without a problem (comforting the pet.)
I didn’t mean to set that up as a “oh no these irresponsible owners how could they” sort of thing, but it certainly opened up the discussion of what is and is not considered standard in that sort of situation.
The vast majority of owners choose to remain with their pets when they are euthanized. I do my very best to make the situation a calm and peaceful experience, and by and large it is. Sure people cry, but only twice have I seen someone truly freak out and start screaming. Not the pet, mind you- they were in a happy place by that point and beyond caring- but owners throwing themselves over the pet, yelling at me to stop (too late), that sort of thing.
People always worry that they are going to be that person, but you’re probably not. If you’re like most people, you’re probably going to cry a little, say goodbye to your pet, then go home and lose it.
I get that we, as a society, are not very good when it comes to this whole death and dying thing. People get really weird about it. Some people just cannot handle being there, and I am OK with that. My feeling is, well, we take pets in the back and give them injections without their owners present all the time. The pet is unaware of their mortality, or that this shot is any different from the vaccine or pre-anesthetic sedative.
We, as a staff, are efficient, respectful, and kind when we do euthanasias without the owners present. No pet has to wait, sick and alone in a cage while we do other things. We all get together as a group, and do what we need to do. One of my techs has a drawer of catnip she sprinkles on the blanket for the kitties; the dogs get pets and hugs and reassurance. It’s not ideal, but it is the best we can do.
I used to be a little more critical of people who chose not to be present with their pets at a euthanasia, but that was before I had to euthanize Charlie.
Many years ago, back near the start of my career, Charlie presented to my clinic for vaccines. The doctor who was working that day noted that Charlie, an adorable 2 month old kitten, had a little bit of a fever. “It’s probably nothing,” he told the owner, “but let’s wait a few days and try again.”
Several days later, Charlie came back- still with a fever, and no longer wanting to eat. I looked at his distended belly and frowned. “Where did you adopt him from?”
“The shelter,” replied the owner, as I withdrew several cc’s of straw colored fluid from his abdomen.
She looked at me in disbelief as I spoke to her about FIP, the poor prognosis, the fact that there was no way to have predicted Charlie would have this disease. She just stared as I watched her heart break behind her eyes.
“OK,” she finally replied in a near whisper. “I need to go home and talk to my husband.”
Two days later, Charlie’s dad arrived with Charlie for euthanasia. By this point Charlie was very ill. “Where is his wife?” I asked. The receptionist shook her head. “She didn’t come. He doesn’t want to be there for the euthanasia either.”
I went into the room to make sure Charlie’s dad understood what we were going to be doing. “Are you sure,” I asked as delicately as I could, “that you don’t want to be there with Charlie when we euthanize him?”
He sighed. Then he shook his head, and, staring at the floor between his feet, this is what he told me:
“Last year, our two year old son died of leukemia. My wife was by his side every day for two months. We were both with him when he died.
“Last month, I adopted this kitten for my wife to try and cheer her up a little bit. I just- I just can’t believe this is happening, again. It’s just so cruel.
“I want to be there, but- I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
So. Now I am standing there, with tears running down my face and a giant HEEL sign on my head, trying to reassure this person and telling him to please not worry, that I will take good care of Charlie. He nodded imperceptibly, with the stoic veneer of someone trying as mightily as they can to contain the unwanted intrusion of a memory I just cannot fathom having, and he left.
I don’t know why the universe works the way it does sometimes.
But yes, if someone tells me they can’t be there with their pet, I remember that day, how this passage often brings up memories and emotions that perhaps they are just not capable of facing there, with me next to them. I gather my technicians, and we hold the pet and let them know no matter what, they were loved.
This story is heartbreaking. That poor family…
Poor Charlie’s dad and mom. 🙁 I remember feeling guilty after a plant died (that likely was going to die no matter my attempts to save it) right after Andrew died.
Thank you for being so compassionate, Dr V.
Wow! Just when a person thinks they know it all . . . . This was a much needed reminder that we don’t all walk in the same shoes and we should thank God for that blessing! Thanks, Dr. V, for the compassion you show, both to animals and humans, everyday – your clients are very lucky!
This was an extremely touching story. I agree with Cathey – you never know what others are going through, and it’s good to be reminded of that. Your patients are lucky to have a kind and compassionate doctor like you, Dr. V.
And yet I would have given anything to have been able to be there for Blade. The circumstances under which it happened never gave me the closure I needed and still need. 🙁
That story made me cry … how heartbreakingly unfair.
The cat of my heart, Shadow, was euthanized without me there. My vet literally talked me out of staying with him, saying it was for the best that I not be in the room. I was a young adult and Shadow was the first pet I’d ever had put to sleep, so I didn’t know any better. I’ve never regretted a decision more and still think of that day. I have no idea why the vet didn’t want me present, but it kills me that I wasn’t in the room with him when he died. I can only hope that my vet and her techs were as compassionate and caring to Shadow as you and yours were to Charlie.
Your patients, and there owners, are quite blessed to have a vet like you, Dr. V.
*there = their. Gah.
So, so sad! Just want to hug that couple!
And thanks to you and your staff for handling what some cannot handle.
Beautifully written, Dr. V. Reminds me to be kind with people whenever emotions are involved on the theory that “you never know” what is going on from their perspective. Thanks for that….
Dr V , you have this unique way about you when handling patients and their families. Not only do you and your staff expertly handle the medical side you also handle the emotional side with compassion . It cant be easy. Bless you for that.
Three years ago I had to have my beloved “soul kitty” Bobo euthanized. It was one of the most awful days of my life. Bobo had been with me for 18 beautiful, funny and loving years. When it was “time” to let him “go” I felt I had to be there with him. I felt that we shared everything, that he had comforted me in my time of need and I needed to be there to share his. To be honest it is something I am not sure I can ever do again.
I chose to have Bobo euthanized at home. I felt if he were in his own surroundings it would be more “comforting” to him. My vet was extremely sensitive about the situation but there are moments that will forever remain in my mind that I am not sure I can relive again.
One of them was when he had to have his legs shaved (I didn’t know they would do this) and I was told to wait in the hallway. I stood in the hallway crying as I heard my beloved baby meowing in fear. When I was told to come back into the living room our vet sat and comforted my dear boy and I did too, overwhelmed with sadness, wondering if I was doing the right thing (it WAS the right thing, he had gone into kidney failure as a result of heart disease, he had gone deaf, stopped eating) but I was so overcome with grief I kept questioning myself. As he was being comforted I felt guilt that he was being comforted only to be put to sleep.
I held Bobo on the couch as our vet did the procedure. I am sorry to say I was an incredibly loud sobber….I laid on him as I felt his body go limp and felt the life leave. I was shrieking and sobbing uncontrolably. It was awful.
I cannot lose the memory of watching my vet carry my baby away to his van, with his head resting on his shoulder. The only comfort was my Bobo appeared to have a “smile” on his face and I chose to believe that he was in a “happier” place. It tears me apart to even write about it.
Please do not judge others if they feel they cannot be in the room, I now have another cat and a Sheltie who are 3 yrs old. I pray the day they leave this earth is no time soon. When the time comes I am honestly not sure if I will be able to witness it again. It isn’t due to being an unresponsible pet owner, it is just due to loving them so much I am not sure if I can bear being a witness to their departure again.
With love to all who have experienced the pain of losing a beloved pet. To those who have witnessed it and to those who have not, your pain is real and I send love and hugs.
I am just floored by where this post went – I never saw that coming about the little boy dying from leukemia and I have to thank you for shedding on light on individual decision. I was one of those owners who was present when her little baby girl, boy weakened and ravaged by illness, was taken from this world via euthanasia on 10/11/08. Not a day goes by I don’t miss her and ache for her. I can cry on a dime thinking about the day and her void in my life. I cried and shook and nearly passed out in the waiting room of the vet afterwards. I knew my girl was at piece but the whole life in my life and my heart are eternal. I am glad we as humans are capable of loving again, as my heart is once again filled with dog and it forever shall be.
People always ask me about the difficulty of this part of the job. I have to say that being with a pet from start to finish of their lives with those who care for their pet are the rewarding parts of being a veterinarian, no matter how difficult. I always feel for those pets that are euthanized but don’t have a family or have never known the love of a family–compassion for those pets in shelters especially–a very difficult task for those staff members no matter what the public may feel about how it is handled. It’s always important to be understanding of the animal and the family and your caring staff at times like this.
That is so so sad. I’m sure you took good care of Charlie.
We were there with our yellow lab Hudson and the moment still saddens me. Although it was peaceful and the staff was compassionate, Hudson looked up at me with those big, trusting eyes that we would help him, and, well, the end result being what it was–even though it was for the best—it just tears me up.
Several years ago our rescue took in a very under socialized and fearful stray Beagle. Shortly thereafter he became very ill with an idiopathic autoimmune dissease. During the next 6 months he underwent several surgeries had multiple infections and was on various medications. He also became increasingly fearful, suffered insomnia, would bark for hours on end both day and night, and in my opinion was misserable. I likened his emotional state to that of someone suffering from PTSD. As his caregiver, the ordeal took a severe toll on me both physically and emotionally. I had several other foster dogs to care for as well. When I finally made the heartbreaking decision to euthanize him I could not bring myself to stay with him, even though it that’s what I have done for my own pets and other foster dogs that were sick and/or in pain. I was confident that the “procedure” would seem no different to him than any of the numerous vet visits he had already been through. I was an emotional wreck. I felt that despite my best efforts to make him well and offer him a better life, I had failed him. I am sure he went peacefully. It took me a long time to recover. I’ve never asked my vet what they thought of me not wanting to be there with him after everything we had been through. I hope they were as sympathetic and understanding as you and your staff are.
I still remember when they came for my first dog who was beyond help and the condo president told me I shouldn’t be sitting in the lobby with a dog. I will never understand people who do not respect animals because they feel they are a nuisance, etc., and this is still a never ending problem. These people are the true animals for how they treated my dog and myself. I will never be without the pain of this memory.
So true. Judgment is too easy, with virtually no information. I learned this working at Bellevue Hospital as well and it has also stayed with me and makes me pause and KNOW that I know very little about anyone else.
Great post, DrV. I’ve been there for many of those situations, and Charlie’s story is a good reminder that there are always two sides to the story.
Excellent post, Dr. V. I have experienced many euthanasias with other people, as well as my own pets. I have been present for my own, and I have left them without staying also. Now, knowing what I do, I regret not being present for the pets I left.
I’ve also been the person to “stand in” for the owner who could not (would not) stay. In working at the Argus Institute at CSU’s vet hospital, I learned about euthanasias by being present. I would absolutely encourage most people to stay with their animals, but I certainly understand the reluctance to do so. It is a mysterious process to many pet parents, and it is a scary, difficult thing.
Beautiful post. It’s hard not to be judgmental about owners who can’t handle being present for a pet’s final moments after receiving a lifetime of love from the pet, but, as your heartbreaking story so perfectly illustrates, there are two sides to every story. And what comfort for those who choose to not have that final moment be their last memory of a beloved pet to know that caring veterinarians like you are there to ensure a loving and gentle passage.
What a sad, touching lesson in not judging other people… (now I have to figure out how to stop sniffling, and no, the other comments do not help 🙂
Greetings and gratitude for doing this noble work with care and compassion, from another Dr. V (dr. of the teaching, not the healing, kind. That’s what my students call me 🙂
When I began working in the veterinary field (as a grief counselor), the normal paradigm was to NOT be present when a pet died. In fact, when we began to suggest to the vets at the CSU teaching hospital that people may want to be there, most were horrified. It was a long, slow journey to shift that paradigm and to help the vets feel comfortable enough with grief (both their own and their clients) to “allow” client-present euthanasias to occur. Once we developed a protocol that could be standardized, plus the support tools like comfort rooms, clay paw prints, lowered lighting, etc., it got easier and far more acceptable.
I am so gratified to hear younger vets like you, Dr. V, talk about euthanasia is such comforting, accepting ways. You take for granted that people want and will be present with their animals. And you are aware of your own feelings when they are and when they aren’t! The veterinary medical field has come a long way in this regard and I applaud your work and attitude. Thanks!
Thanks for the reminder, Dr. V. I am going to print your post and put it up at our hospital so that we all can remember not to jump to conclusions regarding an owner’s decision to stay or leave.
When an owner decides not to be present, I take it as a HUGE personal responsibility to give the pet love and and hugs during the procedure. Even though it is not the owner who is with them at the very end, I take comfort in knowing that I did my best to surround them with love and compassion, and *hopefully* help.
That was incredibly moving. Thank you for sharing today’s post.
I never enjoy taking part in euthanasia, but I find comfort in knowing that a pet is at peace and no longer suffering.
I recently read an article in ‘Veterinary Economics’ or one of the like, it gave an example of a beautiful quote and an inked pawprint of the deceased pet. I’ll have to email you a photo of the ones that we re-created. They’re very beautiful and touching for those people that can’t be there with their pet.
That would be great. I’d like to see that.
Thank you for this post. I was distraught when my cat I had as a teenager was euthanised. I didnt stay with her and I have always wished that i had. I dread to think how i will ever cope with that with my kitty now (my ‘once in a lifetime’ pet, to refer to your earlier post), and it helps to hear what is common with other people.
thank you Dr V. I’ve been on both sides. my puppy developed epilepsy and ended up with severe brain damage so my parents decided to euthanise. I was present, at age 8, and it was one of the most educational experiences of my life. I will never forget the way that she went from being a shivering, fitting, twitching ball of misery to the most calm and peaceful looking pup. we stuffed her belly full of treats before she went and she looked so happy and relieved.
I’ve also been the shelter worker who has had to make the decision to euthanise a cat. she was about 8 years old, was severely depressed, wasn’t eating and had developed renal insufficiency. I made the decision to euthanise her before her kidney problems got any worse and started causing her pain. I couldn’t be there. I felt so guilty about the decision I made. I still wonder whether the right person for her might have walked in the door the next day and taken her home to spend her final years in comfort and with the best care that the vet could provide.
so thank you Dr V. for reminding us that everybody has their reasons.
Our former vet always discouraged Mom and/or I being present when our pets were euthanized. The way I understood it was that we would be more in the way and upset the pet. I went with Mom when her heart cat had to be put to sleep. He was beloved by all of us. Tinker was 16 years old white domestic shorthair cat with kidney failure. I’d been taught how to do IVs to rehydrate him and went to Mom’s house daily for a week. We then realized that he was suffering and there was no hope. Mom said she couldn’t handle being present for the euthanasia. The vet had us wait in a room while they did the procedure. Then she brought Tinks to us, in a box, all curled up and at peace.Mom cried, her husband cried and took the box. Tinker was buried by his favorite observation station in their front yard. I’ve never cried so hard about someone else’s pet and don’t know if I could emotionally handle witnessing a pet being euthanized.
My heart Broke a little when I read this. I dread the day my wonderful little sam goes to greet Kevin (He’s reaching his 13th year So I fear it will be sooner then later) I just wish we had amazing Vet like you in Perth, Australia. Thankyou for writing this to make me see that I’m lucky for every moment I spend with my Dog sam 🙂
What a lesson for us all. I used to think people were awful for leaving their old and sick pets at our shelter, but now I wonder… what was their back story? Thank you for sharing this story Dr. V. I am humbled.
Charlie’s story gave me chills. I am so happy that there are good vets and vet techs like you and your team to step in and comfort the pets in their final moments if the owners can’t do so. Death in pets, just as in humans, makes everyone react differently but I think those final moments it’s just nice that the pet has someone giving it a hug and a kind word.
Very coincidental timing with this post- I am a tech and yesterday morning read this before starting my shift. While I’d like to think there isn’t anyone who works in this field who is completely apathetic about euthanizing pets, admittedly it becomes a regular part of the job and we don’t always have the time or energy to dwell on it. However, yesterday we had an owner decide to end her poor sick kitty’s suffering. She was not cold or uncaring, she was actually sobbing the whole way out of the hospital but for one reason or another decided not to stay. My boss handed me the cat wrapped in a blanket, gave him the injection, and said “Please just go love on him in the side room, it’s the least he deserves.”
I carried him away from the hectic treatment area, dimmed the lights in the side room and petted, kissed, and whispered to him until he slipped away. Although we deal with death at work on a frequent basis, I had tears down my face by the time it was over. I’ll admit that sometimes I have felt judgmental toward those who leave their pets, but in this situation (and in reflection of this post) I just felt grateful that I was in the right place at the right time to take over where the owner left off, and give a sweet kitty a proper farewell.
I’ve always felt honored to be there when it came time to have one of my pets euthanized. It’s important to me that I be there at the end, that they hear me and feel my arms around them as they move onto a better place. But having worked 9 years in vet clinics I understand that it is not an easy choice for everyone. Some people don’t want that as the last last image of their pet, some people feel guilty at having to make the decision even when it is done to end suffering. Their reason didn’t matter to me, everyone deals with death in their own way, , I always assured them it was okay, that we would there and their pet would not be alone.
This is such a sad story.
In April we had to put our dog Abbie to sleep after a year-long battle with something we could never figure out, but ultimately she had cancer in her lungs and a large tumor on her shoulder that was making it extremely difficult for her to walk. My husband and I were not good about discussing how we would handle things beforehand, but he told me that he would have to drop her off because he didn’t think he could handle being present during it. I knew I would never let that happen, so in my mind, I was preparing myself to have to take her in and be there while they euthanized her.
As it turned out, she took a drastic turn for the worse overnight one night and I was actually afraid to let her continue til morning. She was having some difficulty breathing and I was afraid she would be suffering horribly by the next day. So we made the decision (that I still feel guilty about) to have my husband take her to the 24-hour vet and have her euthanized that night.
When he came home I totally lost it. For some reason, I kept envisioning her rebounding and him walking in the door with her. I still cry thinking of it. But he did stay with her, and this particular vet office has a special room that is very serene where they do euthanasia. He said she was so peaceful when she died and I think it was actually a good thing for him that he was with her. Four months later, I don’t have closure about it and still question our decision and everything about it, but he is totally sure about it and peaceful.
This vet also took her pawprint and when I picked up her ashes (hardest thing ever) they handed me two poems with her pawprint on them. I think one was the Rainbowbridge and the other was something equally nice. I was so grateful that they did that. They were just great about everything, especially considering that we had only brought Abbie there for a second opinion a week earlier and then had her euthanized there.
I’m happy to know that other vets and techs take such great care of those pets that the owners aren’t able to stay for whatever reason.
Dr. V,
What a beautiful, and beautifully written post. I’m am just heartbroken for that poor couple!
We had to euthanize our Schnauzer Fred a few years ago and we stayed with him while he passed. I still believe it was one of the worst moments of my life, but we had to be there. We stayed out of respect to Fred and as his family we owed it to him to be there while he left this life. After all, he had given us so much – surely I could endure this for him.
But boy, was it awful.
I certainly understand how everyone wouldn’t want to do it. After reading your article I really understand that a lot more.
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful story!
Cheryl