I appreciate all the thoughtful comments yesterday, and especially I appreciate everyone who sent me a picture of their beloved pets to be included in yesterday’s video. It was wonderful to see how many people knew what this day would mean, because you all have had this kind of day too.
Yesterday was shaping up to be the same type of day I have been (thankfully) having for quite a while lately: simple and uneventful.
And then.
Then, my routine cat spay turned out to be pregnant. She was very early- there was no way to have known until I was actually in the abdomen, and she couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks along. That was fortunate, but still, it’s not an easy thing to do and it kind of made us sad. She was only 8 months old and semi-feral. It was the right thing to do.
Then, I met with a client whose 14 year old cat was nearing the end. He’s not quite there yet, but it could have gone either way. It was a melancholy conversation.
Then, I met with another client whose 13 year old dog was at her end. She was ready and so were the owners. They couldn’t bear to stay, so as the receptionist was escorting them out I fulfilled my promise to get this over with as quickly as possible. I haven’t had to do a euthanasia for some time, and it made me a little sad to have to do it on this of all days.
I went into the room, where the dog waited as she was unable to walk on her own. Her head was raised, wondering where she was, all alone, if only for a few seconds. That got me.
I brought my techs in to hold her head and give her hugs, and talk to her as by this point I was a little choked up and not able to comfort her myself. She left, peacefully and surrounded by loving if unfamiliar hands.
THEN I went into my next room. It was this fellow on the left:
I took this picture the last time he was in our clinic, struck by his resemblance to Emmett (on the right.) Of all days for him to make a reappearance.
AND THEN, after fixing up his issues and getting him ready to go, the owner of course remembered me and my love of Goldens and how much her Golden and my Emmett could be related and made polite conversation:
“And how is your beautiful Golden?”
“Oh, dead,” I said, only not quite in those words. Then I went in the back and teared up.
Then I brought Brody out to meet him. It was a little surreal to see him nosing up to an elder statesman who bore such a resemblance to the dog I was coincidentally mourning that day, but it was a comfort all the same. I was reminded of what I wrote the day before: Things are as they should be.
Then I went in the back again, looked up at the sky, and muttered, “I get it dude. Now GO AWAY because I still have to work.” š
Thank you for not letting that dog go without hugs. It was a awful day for you but you continued to do right by your patients. Thank you so much for taking care of all of them and for loving them so well.
+1 from me. <3
I am sure the sweet baby you helped over the bridge yesterday was greeted by your good boy Emmett. What a comfort to know that Emmett is by your side every day and especially during the tough days. xoxo
Sending you hugs for your hard day at work. š
*hugs*
thanks for making me cry at work at my desk
Thank you for being such a compassionate vet. How can people leave their pets to face the end alone? I will never, as long as I live, understand that.
You know, Libby, I’ve wondered that myself.
But I also question whether I made Bailey’s passing harder on her because I was so upset. In my case, it wasn’t euthanasia, though we had planned it for the following day. I had been crying for days because her health had declined so precipitously that I knew the end was near. In the few minutes we had between the start of her seizures and her death, I was holding her and telling her how much I loved her, but I was nearly hysterical as well.
So if their dog was in a place she knew well and she was comfortable with the people who were with her, part of me wonders if it might not have been better for her. Dr. V, any take on this?
(Allow me to say that, despite my hysterics, I could not have left Bailey to pass without me. Guilt either way, I guess.)
You make a very good point, Lisa, and please accept my apology for my knee-jerk comment above, and for making you feel bad.
Circumstances like yours — when your pet is in huge distress and being calm for them is all but impossible — are different. In the situation described by Dr. V, the dog wasn’t seizing, it was “time” but it was not a crisis, if you know what I mean. It just seemed cowardly for the family to leave her there because it would be hard for “them,” you know?
We’ve had to say goodbye to a dog and a cat in the last two years, and in truth I know that we were lucky in that there was no seizure-like crisis — we knew it was time and we knew they were ready, and we had a day to arrange for the vet to come to our house (to avoid the stress of the vet office; we didn’t want their last half hour to be full of fear and anxiety) and we could gear ourselves up to be calm and loving and make it peaceful for them.
Not everyone has that luxury, I know. Again, Lisa, my apologies for that knee-jerk comment I made above.
I know many loving pet owners that have just not been able to handle being there at the end. Maybe they don’t want to lose control in front of someone else….maybe they can’t take the guilt. I don’t know…..Myself, I want my dog or cat to know the feel of my touch and sound of my voice as they are leaving this world.
Thanks for being so caring Dr V.
What a terrible day. You’re absolutely right – things are as they should be. But it doesn’t make it any easier.
Couldn’t respond when I first read this because I just needed to cry. Sorry about the rough day, Dr. V, but Emmett sure was there with you yesterday! And things ARE as they should be.
Now let’s all find something to smile about! š (A nice pic of Brody and/or Koa would do the trick!)
Well said Tonya!
I couldn’t reply yesterday…my heart is still broken over the death of my Brody. He’s only been gone for a few days over a month, and it’s still like a knife in my chest. I could only watch that video, cling to my Sweetie, and cry.
I used to have a norwiegan forest cat named Lotus, and she started having really bad seizures one night. She was having full-blown Grand Mal spasms, and by the time the vet opened, her mind was gone and she was a shuddering wreck. I couldn’t watch them put her to sleep…but, I could see in her eyes that she was already ‘gone’. She’d left in the dark hours of the night, cradled in my arms.
I’m so sorry for your bad day, Doc V. I seem to be having one too. /shares her tissues
It’s just a weepy week all over. That is a very tough work day on top of a very tough personal day in your grieving timeline. This being a grown-up is tough sometimes. Hang in there.
Oh, Jess…
I’m late with the anniversary hugs, so here’s a double dose to cover the hard day at work, too.
(((hugs))) and (((hugs)))
just wanted to tell you that your last few posts on remembering emmet have been exceptional. They evoke some painful memories for me, but are also helping as I see another dog through his last days/weeks/months. They make me just want to weep. which is not a bad thing. thank you.
I, like others, cannot fathom not being there for your pet when they need you most. It’s hard but it’s part of loving a pet. And I’m grateful you and your techs were there to comfort the dog.
On a lighter note, I love unexpected visits from our furry loved ones. Like the Golden showing up. It was Emmett. He was letting you know he was still there.
Wow, DrV, great posts and video. Emmett is really watching out for you – and a welcoming face at the Bridge too. I hope you are feeling that comfort.
That’s really wonderful that you had your vet tech comfort the older dog as she passed on. Bless your animal loving heart.You really made a cranky, hardened broad shed a few tears.
Oh My , what a day on top of everything else in your life. You are wonderful Dr V.
Hugs and love to you and your whole family. I hope you feel some comfort today.