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What Some Vets Don’t Know
By Kathleen McGrath |
| I’m angry. So angry in fact,
that I haven’t really had the chance to grieve. A few days ago I got
an email from my brother telling me about his dog Molly. I don’t know
if he was asking for my advice or my approval, I’m the baby sister so I’m
not used to that role. Molly has lived a long life. She was a
rescue that my brother and his family adopted. A scruffy, silvery little
Cairn Terrier mix with a heart three times bigger than her body. He
hadn’t intended to adopt a dog, but his daughters and his wife, pleaded with
him. I was not setting a great example as I had just adopted my second
rescue dog. They used that as their “in.” That was roughly 14 years ago. We didn’t know exactly how old Molly was because she was a stray, but she couldn’t have been more than two. My brother’s email told me how Molly had been ill for a long time. She’d suffered a few strokes. Her tiny body had lost 1/3 of her bodyweight. She couldn’t keep food down. She was mostly blind. Her quality of life was very low. He had two main concerns. One, that she did not deserve to suffer and he wanted to do the kindest thing and give her peace. Two, he wanted to spare his daughters the experience since they were now returning home from college. He knew it would break their hearts. With a very heavy heart, he took Molly to the new veterinarian. His usual vet had sold the practice and now he had to deal with new people who did not know Molly very well. Vets who think they had her best interest in mind. They confirmed that she had renal failure. She could live for a few days or a few weeks. He asked the question that he did not want to ask, if perhaps it was kindest to euthanize Molly now. Not only did the veterinarian tell him no, she did not think it was necessary, that they could continue to treat Molly; she also lectured him on how terrible she felt when her parents put her dying dog to sleep while she was away at school and how she had never forgiven him. She made him feel ashamed and guilt-ridden that he had even asked the question. He told me that he walked out of the vet feeling like Doctor Kevorkian. I replied to him that there are veterinarians that are only concerned with the money they make. That they just keep bleeding everyone dry emotionally, physically and financially. I had the misfortune to meet such a vet when my dog Chelsea was dying. In fact his words to me were “I’m in the business of saving dogs, not putting them down” in response to my tearful question about euthanasia. I’m not saying this particular veterinarian is consumed with money. Perhaps she is simply lacking in life experience. Perhaps she believes that she must keep all animals alive at any cost. But this is something that all veterinarians need to know. A true veterinarian knows when to say “she’s had enough, it’s time to let her go”. I am fortunate enough to have a veterinarian like this in Dr. Schema. She has been taking care of my dogs since my first adoption 15 years ago. She has felt the sorrow when she looked me in the eye and explained the situation and explained the options and then told me what she felt was right in her heart. She did this when I took Chelsea away from that horrid man at the Emergency Hospital and told him that under no circumstances were they going to experiment on my little girl. The next day I took her to Dr. Schema who took one look at her and cried. And together, we made the decision. While I know it was the right thing to do, that experience with the other vet has plagued me four years after Chelsea’s death. Wondering, what if? And Dr. Schema had the same compassion and wisdom four short months ago when my eldest dog who had been rapidly declining, succumbed to a stroke. He was 15. My first rescue. Bono was and always will be my inspiration. Sadly, my brother and his wife left this weekend to help his daughters move back from college. He left thinking that Molly had time. I’m Molly’s pet sitter. Tonight I went to visit her. She didn’t bark when I opened the front door. I walked over to her bed, I called to her. She didn’t move. She had soiled her blankets. I touched her, she was stiff. Poor little Molly was gone. So there I was, hyperventilating and sobbing and trying to regain my composure. I called her vet and explained the situation. I was too distraught to tell the vet what I really thought. I wrapped up her tiny, lifeless body and carried her to my car. Drove her to the vet and made the arrangements. And I sobbed all the way home. It did not have to be this way. She did not have to die alone. She did not have to suffer. And my brother did not have to suffer, feeling like a monster for wanting to ease her suffering and give her the peace that she deserved. I am eternally grateful to Dr. Schema for allowing me to give Bono and Chelsea the peace and the comfort they deserved, for allowing me to hold them in my arms as they breathed that last breath, so that they never had to be alone. What some vets don’t know, is that part of life is death. And sometimes the answer is not more meds and more surgery. Sometimes, “she’s had enough; it’s time to let her go”. |