I am facing the loss of one of my own pets very soon. Our 16-year-old pit bull, Nyse (yes, named after the stock exchange; it’s a long story for another day) is fast losing ground. She has no firm diagnosis – she is just wasting away, and spends her remaining days shuffling around the house, searching for something she will never find, like a ghost in a gothic horror tale.
‘Cognitive dysfunction’ and ‘sarcopenia’ are as close to a diagnosis as my wife and I (both veterinary specialists) can come to after several rounds of testing, but those terms are descriptive and not really diseases. There is no shot, pill or form of therapy for either one. My wife and I are struggling to find the right time to euthanize her. She is not in pain (that we can detect), is still eating and gets around, but to look at her is to look at a skin-draped skeleton, and her eyes long ago lost the mischievous sparkle that they once had. She sleeps a lot, and when she is not sleeping she just paces relentlessly and seems perpetually confused. She is alive, but not really living.
How this will play out, only time will tell – I doubt we will get the gift of a peaceful passing in the night; the one that everyone hopes for and no one gets. She’s too tough and crotchety for that sort of namby-pamby end to her life. More than likely, she will continue to grind down and we will have to step in and say enough, time to go. We’ll have to see, and we have made plans for the where and how it will happen (probably at home with meds I have brought from work; I will be the one to give the injection), we just don’t quite know the when or the why.
She used to be able to jump five feet straight up in the air, and if a canine face can express joy that was the expression she was wearing while doing it.
Facing this has made me think of the countless times that I have been with pet owners during their own experience with euthanasia. Euthanasia is a big part of what emergency and critical care veterinarians do. I have seen euthanasia and family reactions in many forms – quiet, angry, distraught, sullen, screaming, accepting, relieved, even (once) morbidly curious. (A family had gathered to euthanize a sick pet. After I gave the injection and their pet had breathed its last, the tween son of the family, who looked to fancy himself a bit of a Goth, said one sotto voce word: “cool.”)
Despite the variety of emotions surrounding these many euthanasias, I have noticed a phenomenon than happens during many of them: the pet owners’ need to tell the story of their pet and the pet’s place in the family. It truly seems like a need – they seem compelled, in many cases, to recount how the pet came to them, notable or funny things that their pet did during its life or some other factor that says "he was here and we loved him." They need to mark the moment somehow and commemorate the loss of a friend.
We lack the formalized rituals for animals that people undergo when they die. Pet funerals happen, but they are definitely not the norm and only a tiny fraction of pets have an actual ceremony. I can only think of perhaps four or five that have happened in the 16 years I have been in practice, and I have been involved in literally thousands of euthanasias and deaths. Pet owners don’t often get societal permission to grieve the loss of a pet; they are seen as emotionally weak, overly attached or somehow defective. For a human, the ritual of a funeral is part of the healing process; pet owners just have to suck it up and move on.
Telling the tale, there in the exam or grieving room, in a private sanctuary, allows them to grieve and come to terms with some part of the loss, if only for a few minutes. I am not a big believer in ‘closure,’ but I do think this ritual that people go through, this recounting, helps them move on and live.
It usually goes like this: The injection has been given, and I have confirmed with a stethoscope that the heart has stopped and the pet has died. When I let the owners know, they often cry for a moment or so, then dry their tears and start in on the tale; “You know, we got him from the shelter at about 3 months old, and he could fit in your hand.”
-or-
“He always slept at the foot of my son’s bed – never left his side, even when he was so sick.”
-or-
“He had this stuffed hedgehog that he loved like it was his baby. Damn thing smelled like a pigpen on a hot day, but he loved that thing.”
-or-
“He loved to chase after cars in the driveway and bark like a madman, but he was so gentle. He would come up when we were watching TV and just put his head in your lap.”
-or-
“She is all I have left of my wife – she died last year.”
The stories are heartbreaking, funny, cryptic, touching. Even if I am very busy, I make time to listen. I rarely say anything unless asked – my job is to pay attention and serve as another person to remember. There will be a hole in a household, and telling the tale makes it a little more bearable. Someone knows, someone remembers, someone retains the memory that she loved to chase dragonflies or he barked at shadows or she would swim in the lake with the boys until dusk.
I have many important jobs as a doctor – making treatment plans, calculating doses correctly, checking for tumors on X-rays – but listening, and in particular, listening when it comes time to tell the story of a pet and a family, is the most important.
144 Comments
Pavani V
December 27, 2022
Suprina Kinsey
November 30, 2022
JD
November 25, 2022
Shelly
August 11, 2022
Bryan
September 7, 2021
Alla
July 31, 2021
Karen Dynarski
April 16, 2021
Nicholas
April 7, 2021
Sage F
March 26, 2021
Stephanie
March 13, 2021
Manuel Martinez
January 23, 2021
Sheila D Phariss
January 22, 2021
Stephanie Carafa
December 25, 2020
Cathy
November 26, 2020
Ashley
November 10, 2020
Jensen
November 6, 2020
Karen
November 4, 2020
Shirley J. Howe
October 18, 2020
Chelsea
October 11, 2020
Ashley
September 29, 2020
Lynn
September 18, 2020
Eden
September 4, 2020
Jason
September 1, 2020
Phil
August 16, 2020
Kamaya
July 29, 2020
Vda
July 9, 2020
Betsy Frazier
June 18, 2020
Ben Hound
June 20, 2020
Manuel Vega
June 5, 2020
Michael
May 23, 2020
Alison Swann
May 13, 2020
Rosa
April 23, 2020
Sheri Grace
April 18, 2020
Linda
April 14, 2020
Robert Verholek
April 8, 2020
Susan Griffin
March 26, 2020
Corry
February 28, 2020
Kina
January 18, 2020
Grant Gaffney
November 26, 2019
Sheri
November 23, 2019
Keun-Wan Park
November 2, 2019
Linda
August 10, 2019
Jaime Blunier
February 11, 2019
Jannette
January 10, 2019
Kayla
December 29, 2018
Gloria Skinner
December 29, 2018
Jane
November 14, 2018
Aleigh
November 8, 2018
Samantha
October 21, 2018
Phyllis DeGioia
September 14, 2018
Tim Stack
September 14, 2018
Gine Oquendo
September 9, 2018
Rhyzen
July 24, 2018
Tina
April 8, 2018
Ricki
March 29, 2018
Emma
March 27, 2018
Hope
March 22, 2018
Stella
March 7, 2018
Kelly Yang
September 29, 2017
Bruce Bosche
September 27, 2017
GG
September 18, 2017
Carl
February 17, 2017
Kayla
October 23, 2016
Tiffany
November 26, 2014
Tracey
May 25, 2014
Cathy Moore
August 2, 2013
Susan
August 2, 2013
Karen
August 1, 2013
Rick Christmas
July 31, 2013
Angie
July 31, 2013
Diane Suddeth
July 30, 2013
April
July 30, 2013
Cheryl
July 30, 2013
Janet E Kropat
July 30, 2013
Mary Dehart
July 30, 2013
Teresa
July 30, 2013
Helen
July 30, 2013
Jeannette Pastrana
July 30, 2013
Dee Douglas
July 30, 2013
Lee T.
July 30, 2013
Marilyn Williams
July 30, 2013
Liz
July 30, 2013
Sandra Peters
July 30, 2013
Adrianne Welborn
July 30, 2013
Cindy C
July 30, 2013
Kay Burnette
July 30, 2013
Janet.falcon
July 30, 2013
Tawny Maus
July 30, 2013
Terri
July 30, 2013
Carole Elderton
July 30, 2013
L. Haynes
July 30, 2013
Lorri Redmon
July 30, 2013
Sharon B.
July 30, 2013
Alice Antonelli
July 30, 2013
Teresa
July 30, 2013
Debbie
July 30, 2013
Renee
July 30, 2013
Linda Virnig
July 30, 2013
Carla M
July 30, 2013
Marilyn E
July 30, 2013
Debbie McGee
July 30, 2013
Catherine Messina
July 30, 2013
Becky S
July 30, 2013
Patty Gross
July 30, 2013
Robin Yale
July 30, 2013
Sue M
July 30, 2013
Vicki
July 30, 2013
Mallory Cook
July 30, 2013
Terry Hill
July 30, 2013
Germaine Rihacek
July 30, 2013
Linda
July 30, 2013
Vickie
July 30, 2013
Cindy
July 30, 2013
Debbie
July 30, 2013
Kathy Tracy
July 30, 2013
Linda Kitchens
July 30, 2013
Chris Dorman-Fox
July 30, 2013
Donna L
July 30, 2013
Susan
July 30, 2013
Heydelray
July 30, 2013
Eva Flores
July 30, 2013
Katie
July 30, 2013
Deb
July 30, 2013
Tamara L. Keegan
July 30, 2013
Jacqueline M. Jakle
July 30, 2013
Melissa
July 30, 2013
Sara Bajger
July 30, 2013
Anita Epperson
July 30, 2013
Peggy
July 30, 2013
Karen
July 30, 2013
April
July 30, 2013
Linda Hilferty
July 30, 2013
Pat Lerch
July 30, 2013
Michelle Nelson Statham
July 30, 2013
Jane Clements
July 29, 2013
Jennifer Z
July 29, 2013
Ellen Wildfeuer
July 29, 2013
Sally
July 29, 2013
Cath
July 12, 2013
Amy
July 29, 2013
Carol
July 29, 2013
Carol Clark
July 29, 2013
Dr. Nancy Kay
July 29, 2013
Virginia Rudd
July 29, 2013