by Rachael Joseph

Created on: August 21, 2009   Last Updated: May 29, 2010

Saying Goodbye

You may think my work as a veterinary technician over fifteen years would make euthanizing a pet easier for me. I have seen clients wait, when no spirit remains in a dog's sunken eyes. I have helped clients make their pet's final appointment. I must protect confidentiality and can only share with you two of my experiences with loss. I loved both dogs deeply, one I held onto much too long and because of that experience, I learned how to let the next go with dignity.

He was perfect....sort of. Actually, he was hell on wheels. He peed everywhere despite my religious crate-training, he ate everything that fit in his mouth (and some things that didn't) resulting in his first foreign body surgery at 16 weeks of age. I entered him in puppy kindergarten and he blossomed. We continued with obedience training until one warm spring day playing Frisbee in the backyard, "Kelev" began to pant furiously.

I ran to his side and saw that his gums were bright red. I yelled to my roommate for a thermometer and Kelev's temperature was 107 degrees. He was certainly suffering and I was concerned that if I didn't act quickly, he would die right there with the Frisbee at his side. I grabbed the hose and cooled him to 105 degrees and rushed him to the hospital where I worked. He suffered brain damage and was diagnosed with malignant hyperthermia. He would no longer be able to exert himself in even moderate temperatures. He was an active dog and bottling him indoors spring, summer and fall seemed like torture but Kelev was a joyful dog. Winters were heaven for him and we spent every day at the dog park.

We dealt with malignant hyperthermia and brain damage from age two until he developed epilepsy at age four and began having seizures about 6-7 times a year. I would hold his helpless body as it went rigid and his eyes became vacant. His paws paddled as if running through a vast field. I stabilized his head in my lap and if the seizure was severe, I gave him Valium. When the seizing ended, a state of confusion followed. He would stumble around the house, sometimes blind, as I followed like a mother follows a child taking its first steps.

A year later at age five, I noticed he was losing weight at a rapid pace. I checked for intestinal parasites and every other explanation but received the inevitable diagnosis-gastrointestinal cancer. Kelev's normal weight was about 70 pounds. Over the next year, I loved him so much that I remained oblivious to the fact that I was feeding

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>