Viewing entries tagged
pet loss
In the midst of their own grief, her Moms made the sweetest care packages for us. They were filled with things that reminded us...and them...of Whiskey, including...whiskey : ) ...and a lavender candle because that was Whiskey's favorite scent.
Thank you Pamela. Thank you Christian. You are among the best of the best, and we love you <3
My eyes once went two years without crying. I would cry, but there would be no tears. It was at a time in my career when I was burned out, and I think my eyes just had nothing to give.
I only told Trey, a vet tech I worked with at the time, because I thought everyone else would think it was weird. “That’s not weird,” Trey said.
Now my eyes cry again, and they get carried away. When Huckleberry died, my eyes cried for a day. The day after Huckleberry died, as my eyes were recovering, a client came in to tell us thank you for taking care of her dog who had recently passed, and my eyes started crying again. They stopped long enough for another client to come in to show us her engagement ring, and my eyes started up again. It could have been the glare from the beautiful ring, but I am pretty sure they were real life tears.
So if I seem overwhelmed with emotion by the sight of your beautiful, healthy dog...I am...but my eyes may also be still crying over a sad (or happy) thing. Give me a minute...or a day. I always pull it together eventually.
She was a gorgeous grey Standard Poodle who was anything but standard.
She didn't board with us. Rather, she sat in the front area with Hannah or Stephanie or Nicole and greeted everyone who came in. If it was Russ, she barked at him. If it was a client she didn't know, she held back. Everyone else was a friend.
Her hair was crazy, the good and wild kind. She often had it up in clips or a scrunchy, and other times had it out in curls and waves all over the place.
She was living well with an impressive list of conditions. Until she wasn't. Then she was just done.
Whiskey is survived by her Moms, her Standard Poodle friend and her kitty. And she leaves behind a heartbroken veterinary team.
We sure loved you Whiskey Girl. Rest well sweet friend. Until we meet again.
Have you ever loved a patient so much that you know his last day will be your last day in medicine? So you decide that day just can't come. You know if it does, you will set your stethoscope down and walk out the door, never looking back.
But then that day comes, and it crushes you. It crushes the team, it crushes his family and it even crushes his sweet neighbor. The little guy had a huge reach.
And you hold your dear broken client tight, and you vow to be there for her the next time and you put your stethoscope back around your neck, talks a deep breath and step into the next room, never looking back.
Later, in a happier time, you wonder, “could one little dog really have been that extraordinary?”
And you remember Huckleberry and smile. He sure was.
Cotton and Bailey were best friends.
The two dogs boarded at the 120th and Blondo Gentle Doctor location, and we got to know them and their family well.
Cotton was blind. Bailey would walk next to Cotton’s shoulder and guide him, never letting him hit a wall or bonk a doorway (which is more than you can say for me - Sorry Cotton!)
Bailey himself recently went blind. They were both dealing with managable, age related issues, and handling them well. Then Cotton became fatally ill and had to be euthanized. It was that sudden. Cotton's family, his friends and his little partner, we were all devastated.
We humans knew we would survive the heartache, as much as it hurt, but none of us were sure if Bailey would.
He comes in to board. He sleeps with Cotton’s toys and his blanket. He is hanging in there.
We miss him too buddy. And we sure love you.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Proverbs 4:23, NIV
"Don't harden your hearts..." Hebrews 3:8, NIV
“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.”
― A.A. Milne, The Pooh Story Book
Things I have been told during my career:
"You need to toughen up."
"You can not be so emotionally invested."
"You need a harder heart."
No, no and no.
When there is grief, I need to be gentle, I care deeply and I need a soft heart. The payoff has always been that I am emotionally steamrollered. One sad case can flatten me for days and have lasting effects. It has always been worth it. I would rather be there in the midst of the sadness than anywhere else.
But what if instead of our hearts becoming hardened or remaining completely vulnerable to destruction, there were a third option?
We are instructed in the Bible to guard our hearts, but not to to have hard hearts. How is that possible?
I think the key is in developing a stronger heart.
How?
Some of the strengthening of a heart is supernatural. It is not something we can will to happen, but it is something we can allow to happen.
When the next appointment is a euthanasia or a quality of life consult, do you open the door and walk in prepared to be fully emotionally engaged? Already, with each experience your heart grows stronger.
Our hearts can also be strengthened through repetition. Keep walking into difficult situations over and over. Not that we have a choice as veterinary professionals. Guard your heart. Do not let it become hardened. Let it grow stronger with every experience.
You are already stronger than you know and becoming even stronger.
"Don't Let Your Heart Be Hardened" by Petra
Don't let your heart be hardened - don't let your love grow cold
May it always stay so childlike - may it never grow too old
Don't let your heart be hardened - may you always know the cure
Keep it broken before Jesus, keep it thankful, meek, and pure
May it always feel compassion - may it beat as one with God's
May it never be contrary - may it never be at odds
May it always be forgiving - may it never know conceit
May it always be encouraged - may it never know defeat
May your heart be always open - never satisfied with right
May your heat be filled with courage and strengthened with all might
Let His love rain down upon you
Breaking up your fallow ground
Let it loosen all the binding
Till only tenderness is found
ONE YEAR AGO
TWO YEARS AGO
I am thankful I was with my pets when they died.
I tell people that the day itself will be difficult no matter what, but a year from the day they say goodbye to their pet, they will be glad they had stayed. I have never thought of that in relation to saying good bye to our own pets.
I held Buttercup Rat as she struggled through the end stages of fulminant pneumonia. She is buried at Ledges State Park in Boone Iowa. Both the day she passed away and the day of her funeral are sweet memories.
I got to tell Benji the Poodle it was okay to let go when the fibrous connections in his heart broke down and it could no longer function. Russ and I were holding him. Our friend Beth's giant dog Mesa passed away at the emergency hospital the same night. We got to go across the street and tell her dog good bye hours before she died.
As traumatizing as Obie's death was, I was there with him, and that is priceless to me.
Dr. Munger euthanized Herbie with us.
Dr. Wittler euthanized Ebony for us.
Max lay between us and gently fell asleep on our pillows.
Noodle got a Big Mac, and we laughed through our tears.
That last day truly is sacred. I had never thought to tell it to myself until now.
Noodle the Poodle passed away in the spring of 2016. I wasn't ready to write about how supportive you all were until now. Thank you so much. Now looking back at your kind words and remembering Noodle makes me mostly happy, not mostly sad. That has to be a step in the right direction, right?
Here are some of the things I keep close...
Jaime Williams and Ross Nelson brought me this beautiful stone right after Noodle passed away. I love it so much. At the risk of being punched, I gave Ross an unwanted hug. He either was too slow or was feeling poodle pity because instead of punching me, he hugged me back. Thank you guys so much! You are the best! (((hugs)))
This beautiful handmade card was from my former coworker Jan Green. I still miss you Jan!!
Janie Helt and her family gave us a beautiful Easter Lily and a sweet card.
From work friends <3 The inside reads, "The Arbor Day Foundation has received a donation in memory of Noodle. As a tribute, a tree will be planted and registered in Tahoe National Forest. This memorial was given by Gentle Doctor Animal Hospitals. May this living monument to your friend comfort you during this time." Thank you guys. I love you.
I hate when a family comes in with a friend and I send them home with only a collar.
"So he's in heaven, and his body's still here?"
I sat on the floor and gave my patient all my chocolate and half the treats from the cookie jar one by one.
Losing a pet can be as difficult as losing a person.
Do you think...sometimes…pets stay as long as we need them to stay?
Honey, I promise to get you to heaven soon.
The love is worth the sadness.
Answering these questions may help as you walk your pet through this last stage.
Sometimes, quality of life flow charts and pain charts and exact laboratory test results can be your rock at the last stage of your pet’s life. More often than not, life, as you know, is not so black and white.
The most difficult time for a pet lover…the most difficult time for a veterinarian…is the last stage of life – the good-bye, and more times than not, euthanasia.
Don't say "one more beer" to the vet!
At 2 am the soreness in my hand wakes me up, and I remember. Nine hours earlier, I failed to revive a dog with emergency treatment.
