Life is weird in lots of way. Things happen for a reason, and you have to kind of be open to what life’s going to throw at you because you certainly aren’t going to expect most of it. Even the good stuff. Especially the good stuff, which is often hidden in bad stuff.
When I go to a house for a euthanasia, people invariably say one of two things:
1. This must be so hard.
2. I wish we had this for people.
The answer to both is “I agree.” The interesting part is that they co-exist.
Lots of things we deal with in life are rotten: losing an eyeball, I imagine, would be hard. Crawling through the Amazonian rainforest naked and afraid with no water. Chaperoning a group of fifth graders on an overnight field trip on a boat you can’t escape from. All of them hard, and none of them leading me to say, “gee, I wish I could replicate this experience for my family and loved ones.”
Death is hard. It can also, in certain circumstances, be good. Not always. Sometimes deaths are horrible and tragic and cruel, and when we see that we fear it, and forget that many times it can also be meaningful and loving and bittersweet. We need to cherish those experiences to give us the strength for the times it is not. We need to learn that we can talk about it and lean on each other and be there, really be there, in every way we can.
This is what I do as a hospice vet, and while it is very true that this is in my opinion the best way for a pet to experience death, I have found the ones who benefit the most from the experience are the people, not only for their pet but for their whole idea of what death is about.
Pets don’t know what death is or that it is coming. The fear they exhibit in the clinic euthanasia appointment is fear of the clinic thermometer, because when I go into a home to euthanize a pet I cannot tell you how many very ill pets look up, give me a wag and a lick, and in essence signal to their families that they are ready. It’s quite stunning to see.
When I submitted a talk for Ignite San Diego titled “I’m the Angel of Death, Now Gimme Your Kids” I think I freaked out a good 95% of the attending audience who had no idea who I was or why I wanted to steal their dumplings. By the end, though, I think they all realized that no, really- it’s a good thing to learn to move forward without fear. Pets teach us so much, from the moment they arrive to the moment they leave us. Yes, even then, if we are open to seeing it.
If you want to hear me sum it up in 5 minutes on the nose, here’s the link:
Margot Ahlquist says
This is a great post and fantastic Ignite speech!
Dr. V says
Thank you!
The Nerdy Vet says
Great talk, Death Fairy! But how do you not get compassion fatigue when working as a hospice vet?
Dr. V says
That is an *excellent* question and one probably worthy of its own separate post. There are a few things-
1. I set limits and I’m not afraid to say no. I know how many I can handle in a day, in a week, and I say no if I can’t be there 100% mentally. I put myself first so I can put my clients first. It’s weird how that works, but it does. I mean, I’d like to think NO ONE ELSE can do what I do, but the truth is I am surrounded by many incredible colleagues who can be there too.
2. I am there when I know it is the right thing to do. We only perform euthanasia for pets with a terminal illness.
3. I remind myself my job is to provide reassurance and a peaceful transition, but I am not a trained counselor. If people are grieving in a way I am concerned for their welfare, I know who to reach out to who can give these clients the appropriate support they need.
It seems to help.
The Nerdy Vet says
Thanks so much for your reply! Looking forward to that separate post 🙂
kamnel says
Now with mention of Death Fairy I think of Scrooged and you as Carol Kane 😉
Dr. V says
I’ll take it! With a toaster!
Bonnie Mader says
Standing ovation!!!!!! I admit, when I first saw your title I thought, oh no–Jessica knows her stuff, yet this sounds frightening….. I’m glad the audience was captive because your talk quickly moved from the scary title to captivating–excellent PR for animal hospice veterinarians, and for helping us think about death as not needing to be a scary topic.
Dr. V says
Thanks Bonnie!
JaneK says
Excellent! Fun hearing you talk “in person” and not just through your words on the blog! And you are rockin those 4inch (or are they 6″) heels!
Dr. V says
They have to be 4, tops. I don’t think I could manage 6 anymore, alas.
Von says
Well done, Jessica, that was an excellent, well-composed, and informative speech. That, and this post, have made me re-think why my good dog was so happy to see her vet the night doggy died. That’s a comfort.
Dr. V says
I’m so glad to hear that it maybe added a comforting thought to a memory of an awful time. What a lovely compliment. Thank you.
kipper says
When our vet friend came twice in one year, three months apart, to euthanize our ill/elderly dogs, I did indeed understand that some parts of being a vet are emotionally exhausting. The first time I’d never seen an animal be euthanized, knew I was making the right decision but was scared of what would happen. The vet was so calm, reassuring me and making sure the euthanasia caused the dog no final pain. The dog’s body was put in the back of her VW after the event, to go get cremated. Other dog, months later, was a most beloved, one in a million/still miss her every single day elderly dog. She was in pain, so were those who loved her. Vet came, dog passed very quickly after the injections. That dog’s body went in the passenger seat of the VW on the dog’s blanket. When I asked why, vet friend said “well, because she is —— and she deserves to sit in the front seat”. Vet friend cried/ I cried. When the new puppy arrived, vet friend was one of the first people, called. She insisted on coming to see the pup right away and fell in love with the dog. The dog of course felt the same way. I’m so fortunate to have such a wonderful friend and the pets are as well, to have such a kind and competent vet. Your speech was excellent! Vets may be “death fairies” as you say, but they also are “life fairies”, helping pets to stay healthy and reassuring their sometimes neurotic (pointing to self) owners.
Dr. V says
Wow, your friend sounds like an amazing vet. I’m glad you have her!
kipper says
She is and we are! Your clients and their owners probably/should feel the same way about you.
Cara from Barkocity says
What a great presentation Jessica! This is a topic most people would shy away from because it’s sensitive and painful. People don’t want to think of their dog dying because its a mystery of how, when and why.
You have put a new light on this topic and really opened my eyes. I give you a lot of credit for doing this each and every day and giving peace to families. Excellent job!
Dr. V says
Thank you Cara!
Lisa says
Thank you so much, Jessica. I am currently having a difficult time making the decision to euthanize my 14 year old shih tzu. The things he can do: eat soft food, sleep, pee and poop. The things he can’t do: see or hear well, go for walks, be petted and held (hurts), be groomed (hurts) or go through the day without several episodes of tremors. We have tried almost every medicine for pain, anxiety and seizures. He is the most pitiful specimen of his former self. I keep letting the things he CAN do interfere with my decision; however, in my heart, I know those things only equal quantity – not quality. I am being selfish because I am afraid to let him go. You have helped me today.
Dr. V says
Oh my gosh, that sweet face! I am so sorry this is such a hard time for you. It’s not selfish to have a broken heart- this is an agonizing decision to have to make as a pet owner.
I can share a couple of things I tell people in your position that I have reminded myself of when I was there too: You don’t have to wait until EVERY good thing in their life is gone before you make that decision. And two, it is better to be a week too early than a minute too late. I know whatever choices you make it is from a place of love.
Much hugs to you.