To have a dog is to know unconditional love.
Opening your home and heart to a dog is incredibly rewarding, but can also be so, so heartbreaking.
Today I took my eldest pup Jasper to the vet for his annual checkup.
Jasper is not a big fan of the vet.
Things were hectic when we arrived.
There was a small collie in the waiting area with her owner. The poor dog had blood dripping down the white of her chest and a giant black tumor growing out the side of her mouth. The blood was from the tumor. A piece had dislodged from the pup. She seemed chipper, but her poor owner was obviously distraught. He was scheduled to fly somewhere today, so was trying to get medical help for his girl before leaving town.
We spoke for awhile. He told me his dog was 12. He told me the tumor was cancer and that it had appeared and grown so very quickly. The man let me know he was in a palliative care situation with the dog - trying to keep her comfortable and her quality of life high - but that her days left were likely few.
The collie was taken into an exam room, while Jasper and I continued our wait.
Finally a vet tech called Jasper’s name.
The vet tech was friendly, asking me questions about Jasper’s health. Had his eating habits changed recently? Would I like a refill on a flea preventative? She took my answers and disappeared into the back of the clinic. We waited for the vet to arrive.
Time passed.
🕑 🕜 🕒
When the vet tech returned she seemed flustered. She was apologetic about our long wait. Her eyes looked watery. I asked if she was OK. She mentioned it had been a rough morning in the office. I assured her we were OK waiting. My dog is healthy and I had seen the poor pup with the tumor. She thanked me for my patience and disappeared into the back again.
Our vet finally showed up. She seemed a little flustered too. She finished Jasper’s exam and declared everything to be in tip top shape. The little man and I made our way to reception to pay for the morning’s visit.
That’s when I saw them.
Coming from around the corner I spotted a family - looked like a dad, young daughter and grandpa. They were with my vet. Their eyes were red and puffy. Each was sniffling. In the dad’s hands a collar and leash... no dog. 💔😪
The whole time I had thought things at the vet clinic were off because of the poor collie, but then it turns out this other family was there to say final goodbyes to another beloved dog.
Of course I started crying too.
It was a combination of things... heartbreak for the family, pms (which by the way seems way worse for each year I progress past 40 🙄) and worry about my own dog’s mortality. But I was also amazed and thankful for all the staff at the clinic. I can’t image how hard it would be to have part of your job be sharing in the profound sadness that comes with losing a pet. Seeing the staff’s compassion made me incredibly grateful that know they will be there for my family when it is our time to say goodbye.
