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Euthanasia

Why I Support Pet Owners Who Drop Their Pets Off for Euthanasia

December 12, 2017 by Cherie Buisson, DVM, CHPV

If there’s one thing I’ve learned being in hospice practice it’s that every grief journey is different. That’s why it pains me when I hear people pass judgment on a person who can’t or won’t stay with their pet during euthanasia.

Of course, we’d love all pets to pass in the arms of the one they love best, but sometimes that’s just not possible. Before we cast stones from our glasshouses, let’s consider WHY someone might not stay with their pet.

Years ago, I had a lovely family present me with a tiny Calico cat named Little Jeannie. She was 5 years old and six pounds of feisty adorableness. Jeannie hadn’t been feeling well, so she wasn’t her usual self.  We ran labs, all of which were normal. Because she was vomiting and not eating, I hospitalized her.

Nothing I did helped. I watched helplessly as this young, sweet cat deteriorated before my eyes. In a matter of 36 hours, she went from very sick to dying despite treatment.

I talked seriously with the owners about taking her to a specialist all the while knowing that it was very unlikely they could help. I was pretty sure she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis, one of the worst diseases in veterinary medicine. It’s a virus with no cure. The owners and their children were devastated. They elected to euthanize her.

I asked if they wanted to be present and was surprised when they said no. They had done absolutely everything I asked, spent large amounts of money and still I couldn’t save their beloved girl.

They kissed her goodbye (she barely noticed), and left crying their hearts out. I had no doubt of the love these people had for their cat – NONE. They just couldn’t bear to see her leave them. I euthanized her and then broke down, something that rarely happens to me. It was agonizing for me. I can’t even imagine that family’s pain.

We never know what’s going on in a client’s heart, head, or home. That person we judge could have just lost a family member. They could be suffering from depression or feeling suicidal. Maybe they have PTSD. Maybe they are afraid that their anxiety will betray them and they’ll have a panic attack in front of us.

Whatever their reason, it isn’t our place to push, or lay a guilt trip, or sneer. Rather, we can give them the gift of empathy and say, “You don’t have to be here. We will hold her and tell her goodbye for you. We will see her safely to the other side”. Those words could ease their pain. They could save a life. And isn’t that exactly what we are here to do?

A Veterinarian’s Promise

You left your baby with me

I knew you couldn’t stay

I told you I’d be by his side

I promised you I’d say

That mom and dad both loved him

And though they missed goodbye

They held his memory in their hearts

Their love would never die.

Just because you weren’t here

Doesn’t change the fact

That you gave him a gift today,

A final selfless act.

Though my hands held him gently

As he ceased to breathe

Know that YOUR hands gave him to me

For a peaceful way to leave.

-Dr. Cherie Buisson

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Care, Euthanasia

‘Tis the Season For…….Euthanasia?

November 7, 2017 by Cherie Buisson, DVM, CHPV

We all know that there are people who don’t enjoy the holidays.  But did you know that veterinary staff members often dread the holiday season? Why? Well, there’s an odd phenomenon that starts anywhere between Halloween and Thanksgiving and sometimes drags on through March or April – the euthanasia explosion.

There are lots of reasons why there is an increase in pet euthanasia during the holiday season. It’s colder (except here in Florida for some reason), so pets with arthritis or who are very thin are often worse when the temperature drops. There is the stress of changes to the home – decorations, work schedules, visitors.

Pets can be exposed to toxins and foreign bodies that aren’t usually in their environment. Their owners are often very stressed, even if they love the holidays. Stress can cause a flare up of old disease or bring on new diseases in both pets and people. Finances are also pretty tight for many during this festive, gift-laden season. Pet owners sometimes try to wait on veterinary care until after all the chaos (and expense) is over.

Whatever the reason, veterinary teams are performing euthanasia at a much higher rate than usual. Patients we have loved and sometimes known their entire lives are passing. While we band together to provide a peaceful end for our beloved patients and their families, inside we are feeling the weight of grief. For while nothing compares to the loss of your own pet, helping multiple families through this process takes a toll. Compassion fatigue (secondary trauma from helping sick and injured patients and their families) can bring veterinary professionals down, especially when they are trying to navigate their own holiday stresses.

I have some advice for both pet parents and veterinary teams during this time.

Be kind – both halves of a pet’s team of caretakers are under pressure. We all need to remember patience and empathy. Everyone has the same goal: to help the pet. Today I was touched when I thanked a client for her patience because I ran late after performing a euthanasia. She told me she was grateful her pet wasn’t in that position and was happy to sit tight while I helped a grieving family. I didn’t have to apologize for being late, and she didn’t have to give me a gracious response. But because both things happened, we were able to find common ground and help her cat with no conflict standing in our way.

Consider in-home euthanasia – veterinary teams and clients should check and see if anyone offers in-home services in their area. I urge all pet owners to consider having their pets pass at home. It is much less stressful for most pets and clients to not travel to a busy veterinary hospital. So many clients have no idea that house call euthanasia services exist. At the time of a pet’s passing, having options is important. I get referrals from veterinarians all the time, and their clients are grateful that they had the option, even if they don’t take it. To find a list of providers in your area, visit inhomepeteuthanasia.com

Plan ahead – a planned euthanasia is the exception to the rule. Most clients call me the day they need me. We should be staying in close touch with each other when your pet is very ill. We should be talking about the possibility of euthanasia any time there is a serious or chronic illness. The more communication we have, the better off everyone will be. Clients get the support they need and we have a better chance of preventing suffering. If you know a client has a pet that is stressed in the office, consider prescribing some gabapentin, trazodone or other good anti-anxiety drug (NOT ACEPROMAZINE) to use before euthanasia. That way, whether the client comes to you or elects home euthanasia, they can do something to help their pet be less fearful. Leave a little room in the schedule for the inevitable last-minute euthanasia appointment so the team can provide a good passing.

Treat for pain – recognizing pain in pets can be difficult. If your veterinarian says your pet is in pain, please believe them and give their pain medication as directed. Here is some information on pain for pet owners: //ivapm.org/for-the-public/animals-and-pain-articles/ Veterinary teams – please use a multimodal approach to pain control. And please, please, please put down the tramadol. It has been shown to be a poor pain medication for dogs. It does make them sleepy, which can look like pain control. The IVAPM can help you find a better pain control plan. I talk to at least 3 owners a week whose pets are painful and have no pain medications or tramadol is their only medication. We can do better.

“Watch and see” is a gamble. Trying to limp along a pet’s illness until January can have dire consequences. We may be unable to treat or it may be far more expensive to treat once the disease process has progressed. If your pet is having problems, at least contact your veterinarian for advice rather than hope things don’t become critical. Remember that it is against the law for veterinarians to prescribe drugs for a pet they’ve never seen or haven’t seen in a long time. Be sure to keep your pet up-to-date on exams. Vet teams – take the time to figure out how to keep pets as comfortable as possible if their owners can’t or won’t bring them in.

Remember that a pet’s “team” consists of owners and vet professionals working together. We aren’t at war with each other. When it comes to end-of-life care, all of us need to be extra sensitive and try to keep our strong feelings from making us say or do something we’ll regret.

Don’t forget to practice good self-care. None of us can take good care of others if we are not taking good care of ourselves. If you are having trouble, please seek help. www.APLB.org can help with pet loss support before and after a loss. Vet teams, visit this site. Best wishes and many thanks to everyone caring for pets this holiday season.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Euthanasia

The Surprising Reason Pet Euthanasia Increases During the Holidays

December 14, 2016 by Jessica Vogelsang DVM

Ask any veterinarian when they euthanize the most pets, and they will tell you “during the Winter holidays.”  In fact, Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice, the nation’s largest provider of in-home end of life care for pets, will see an increase of 20-50% in home visits for euthanasia or hospice care the weeks following both Thanksgiving and Christmas.  You may not imagine there being a season for this, but there is, for a few reasons:

1. “I just want one more Christmas with him.”

Holidays are a time for family to come together, and pets are sometimes more appreciated than that one uncle that always complains about the food! Kids spend hours playing with the dogs, cats, or other companion animals, and we watch these furry sidekicks age with them over the years.  As a child, I remember being just as excited to see Sandy, my Grandparents’ terrier, once a year as I did the human family members! As Sandy got older, I wanted her to be a part of one last holiday with us, she was such an important presence to me at their house.

Hospice care is hugely valuable at this time. Families know their elderly pet is reaching the end of their life, and they want to spend just one more holiday together.  Hospice allows that to happen; we help their pet remain as comfortable as possible for as long as possible, coaching the family through the euthanasia decision based on the medical condition of the pet and the family’s wishes.

2. “My family will finally be able to say goodbye together.”

Children come home from college, relatives come to visit, family and friends are finally together. For some pets, especially those outgoing elderly Golden Retrievers or Labradors, this is pure heaven!  Having family gathered around, sharing memories of a life well-lived may be the best “goodbye” any of us can imagine.  And for some lucky pets, this is how they make their exit from their failing bodies.

Some of the most peaceful experiences I’ve had with families include everyone gathered around, sharing stories, giving a toast to their pet, followed by the delivery of that final euthanasia medication. Then everyone hugs each other, and I leave the home knowing their support system will get them through the grief of loss,  and it’s simply beautiful.euthanasia

3.“Wow, he looks way worse than the last time I saw him.”

Another interesting phenomenon happens when long distance family and friends see an elderly pet for the first time after an extended absence. They may be happy to see the aging furry family member, but at some point make the comment, “wow, he looks way worse than the last time I saw him.”  This might be met with guilt or surprise by the primary care taker, who sees the pet everyday.  This realization sometimes brings to light the rapid decline of the pet, and the decision to say goodbye becomes easier and more supported than it had been previously.

4. “I’m so worried about her being alone while we’re gone.”

This is a valid, and surprisingly common concern for pet parents during holiday travel.  With an extended absence away from a senior or geriatric pet, owners may feel guilty or stressed about asking someone, even a close friend, to watch him/her.  In some cases, they may even be considering saying a final goodbye before they leave town simply because the stress is too much on their elderly pet, and/or an immense burden on a caregiver.  No, this is not a selfish decision, and sometimes this holiday time away from home is a safe, supported environment to grieve with family and friends.

Losing an elderly pet is never easy, especially during the holiday season.  There are always numerous factors affecting a pet’s quality of life, and also the pet parent’s quality of life. These are all valid concerns and must be weighed within the boundaries of the disease process that the pet is experiencing; some diseases can be extended with hospice care, some cannot.  Talk to your clients about their options, fears, and concerns.  There is also a great deal of information including video tips and quality of life scales, on my website, LapofLove.com.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

Dr Dani McVety is co-founder of Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice, the nations largest network of veterinarians dedicated solely to end-of-life care. She is also a certified body language instructor and frequently writes and speaks on related topics empowering listeners to provide the highest standards of care and communication. Dr. McVety and Lap of Love have been featured on numerous local, national, and professional media outlets including The New York Times, CNN, The Doctors Show, and many more.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Euthanasia

How euthanizing my own cat changed me as a Vet Tech

October 22, 2016 by Kelsey Carpenter

Yesterday, I sent my childhood friend of 18 years over the rainbow bridge. I’ve lost pets before, but none since I started my career in veterinary medicine. I’ve come away from this experience as a changed Technician, and I believe it to be for the better. Here are just a few of the things that changed my perspective.

1. I carry a new burden of responsibility.

When we lost our dog 10 years ago, I was in high school. The decision was based on the recommendation of the medical staff, and it was made as a family. The weight of that decision was shared among the four of us, and was guided by compassionate Veterinarians and Technicians that we trusted. Now, I am the Technician that my family trusts and looks to for guidance.

As Veterinary professionals, we all get the usual influx of calls, texts, and messages from friends and family asking for medical advice. But when it comes to quality of life and whether or not to say goodbye, suddenly the weight of being a Veterinary Technician is much heavier. The weight is both an honor and a burden. I know how much it meant to my family to have someone they trusted to look to for advice and guidance and answers. I know it meant my cat was spoken for in the best possible way. I am honored that I am trusted and that my family recognizes how valuable my knowledge and experience are. The decision to let our cat go was one that was made as a family, but the guidance and suggestions came from me. That was a new weight for me to carry, and I didn’t realize until now just how heavy it would be.

2. Grieving looks different outside of the hospital.

As a Veterinary Technician, I feel I can confidently say I’ve witnessed the full spectrum of grief within an animal hospital. But what I learned is that the experience of grief changes outside of the walls of the hospital. I easily participate in at least two or three euthanasias per day at my job. I always admire people for their strength and their ability to make the difficult decisions that need to be made. But what I don’t let myself think about is everything those people experienced up until the moment they are sitting on the couch in front of me, and everything they will go through as soon as they leave the hospital without their loved one.

Honestly, it’s something I can’t afford to think about – my emotional capacity won’t allow for it. But in saying goodbye to my own cat, I experienced it firsthand. There was sadness, there was anger, there was doubt, blame, camaraderie, isolation, love. I felt the weight of all of these emotions, many of which were even directed at me specifically in my unique role as the guidance counselor for my family. We all grieve differently, and I know this, we all know this. But we only witness a limited spectrum of grief in our work. This experience offered me a reminder of just how much people endure prior to euthanasia and afterwards – those parts we don’t see. As a Technician, it has made me respect pet owners for their difficult and compassionate decisions even more than I already did.

3. It’s important to have a plan.

I knew this already. I tell clients on a regular basis to have one ahead of time. But I learned firsthand just how important it truly is. My cat was in chronic renal failure. We were lucky in that she lived with it comfortably for over 3 years. But we said from the start we would never do subcutaneous fluids at home. We had tried it on numerous occasions, but every single time she would fight and cry and growl and struggle and then hide under the bed for the rest of the day.  Fluids are brilliant for many, many cats. But they just weren’t right for ours. It wasn’t what we wanted for her. We made this decision as a family years ago, shortly after her diagnosis, and we were confident in it, because it was made in her best interest. In the past couple weeks, when she started to decline quickly, we lost perspective and were grasping for straws because we weren’t ready to lose her. But the decision not to do daily fluids had already been made, and we could look back and know that our reasons were valid.

Had we been presented with that decision in the moment, when she was struggling and we were emotional, our choice may have been different. Without the plans we made ahead of time, we may not have had the strength to make the right decision for our cat. As a Veterinary Technician, I’ve always said that I lose all sense of reason when it comes to my own pets. It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it also could not have been more true in this scenario. The plans we set in place ahead of time helped me just as much (if not more) than they did the rest of my family.

4. I have plenty to learn.

I thought I understood CKD. I thought I knew what my stance on quality of life was. I thought I knew what the options were and how it would all happen. I was wrong. Experiencing something like this with your own pets gives you a deeper and more thorough understanding of it. Talking to my family about all of the different medical conditions our cat was experiencing and what we could and couldn’t do for her gave me new perspective into how difficult it can be to process information in an emotional situation.

I know that my ability to communicate with clients will be stronger and clearer. I know that my thoughts about euthanasia and quality of life will be even more confident. I know that my level of compassion and patience has grown. I know that I have plenty more to learn, and I also know that I am a much better Technician today than I was a few months ago. I’ve learned things about myself, about my family, and about my career that will aid me greatly in years to come.

5. I work with beautiful people.

I’ve always admired my coworkers and the amazing work that they do. They are a group of compassionate, patient, brilliant, and genuine people, and I feel honored every day to work alongside them. Through this experience, I’ve grown to appreciate them that much more. In the past few months, I have leaned on my coworkers in ways I’ve never needed to before. I cannot count the number of texts I sent or the hours of conversations I had.

Each of my teammates spoke from both their medical knowledge and their personal experiences. They comforted me in ways I cannot describe. In a period of time in which I felt my family was looking to me for answers, I was looking to them. My logic had gone out the window and been replaced with emotion and doubt, but they were there to be the voice of reason for me. I consider myself to be a pretty independent and confident person, but in the face of incredibly difficult decisions surrounding my cat and her quality of life, that was challenged. My coworkers were there for me when I truly needed them, and I was able to experience a side of them that is usually reserved for clients.

These are absolutely beautiful people I work with. They are selfless and supportive, and I was lucky to be on the receiving end of that. I’ve always thought of many of my coworkers as friends, but I now see them as family. I know for a fact I would not have been able to do this without the love and guidance they gave me, and it has exponentially increased the respect I already had for each of them.

I owe a lot to my cat. I grew up with her. She gave me 18 years of friendship and love. I am eternally grateful for her life and the honor of being a part of it. There is something to be learned from every relationship, and I think some of the most important lessons come from our pets. Thank you, Kiwi. Even in your final days, you made me a better person.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Euthanasia, Vet Tech Life

How Much of Yourself Do You Give To Euthanasia?

June 25, 2016 by Jessica Vogelsang DVM

The worst feeling in the world is euthanizing a patient. It is heartbreaking to listen to the owner cry. It is hard to watch the tears fall and see them at their most vulnerable. Before they walk out the door after saying good bye to their best friend, I have had many owners say to me, “This must be the worst part of your job. I don’t know how you do it.”

 

To be honest, it truly is the most difficult part of my job, and it has taken me many years to make peace with how I handle euthanasia. I came to the conclusion a few years ago that I wouldn’t just be the technician assisting the veterinarian for euthanasia. I was going to embrace it. I was going to give 100% of myself to keep the patient as comfortable as possible. I was also going to allow myself to be open, vulnerable and genuine with a client. I am sure that those sound like simple things. But truly embracing euthanasia is anything but simple.

 

It starts with the patient. When a pet comes in to be euthanized, I think about how this is their last moments on this earth. They shouldn’t be scared, anxious or stressed.  I am a huge advocate for sedation for euthanasia. I discuss giving a sedative with the owner and allow them the ability to choose if they feel their pet needs it. Very rarely will an owner decline sedation. I explain how it allows the pet to be calm, less anxious. This is a stressful time for the pet and the owner. I also explain seeing their pet relaxed, may help the owners feel more relaxed in the situation.  I also try my best to provide warm blankets, lots of pets and definitely lots of treats for the pet.

 

Euthanasia

This ends with the owner and how they perceive their experience.  Some owners have had previous traumatic experiences with euthanasias.

 

Some owners haven’t experienced having to put a pet to sleep.  The most important thing I can do is make sure that this is a smooth, peaceful and comforting event for them. I will talk with them about what consists of.  I explain that their pet will peacefully fall asleep. I will answer any questions they may have.  I provide them with as much time as they would like to spend with their pet before we proceed. I also will listen to any stories and help them navigate any guilt that they are feeling. I will provide an endless supply of tissues.  I will put my hand on their shoulder or give a hug if needed. I will walk them out to their car and tell them to “Take care.”  I will do this all holding back tears, although sometimes they will fall.

 

Euthanasia is the ugliest part of our job. But we can make it a beautiful thing by being present, supportive, open and vulnerable for our clients. We can give them the peace of knowing they made a necessary choice. Not every client will remember their first puppy visit at a clinic. But all of them will remember having to put their pet to sleep. It will be burned into their memory. Do your best to make it as smooth of a transition as possible.  So to truly embrace euthanasia, you have to always give everything you have to give emotionally to your patients and clients.

 

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.


Guest Author JADE VELASQUEZ LVT

About the Author

Jade is a licensed technician of 9 years who lives in Port Orchard, Washington. She enjoys emergency and critical cases, dentistry and creating a bond with her clients and team. During her off time she is busy keeping up with her two crazy Basenjis!

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Euthanasia

The Ugly Truth About Animal Shelters

June 5, 2016 by Andy Roark DVM MS

An article caught my eye the other day. It told the story of a vet, Jian Zhicheng, who worked at an animal shelter in Taiwan. She had euthanized 700 animals in two years – many of whom were healthy and perfectly adoptable. The fact was there was no space to keep them and no one to want them. She worked hard to promote adoption over buying. But animal rights activists threatened her and called her a butcher.

She took her own life. Distraught by the overwhelming burden of euthanizing animals who have nowhere else to go and being labeled nothing short of a killer by her fellow humans, she injected herself with euthanasia drugs from the shelter.

This story hit me hard. Anger swelled inside me: this woman’s life has needlessly ended. She took on the weight of other people’s criticism, the weight of solving a problem that came to feel insurmountable.  The problem that Jian Zhicheng faced is one that many, many shelters in our own country face daily. Too many animals, not enough homes.

Having worked in animal shelters, I have heard no end of criticism of the “kill shelter.” I have seen the distrustful glint in the eyes of the public and even volunteers. I guarantee that if you’re an average member of the public, you hear the words ‘kill shelter’ and a shiver runs down your spine. You automatically think of a horrible place filled with horrible people that murder animals rather than try to find them a home.

Let’s break it down, okay?

shelter cat

Kill shelters are in truth open admission shelters. An open admission shelter is required to take in whatever animal crosses its doorstep. Let’s say they have space for 100 dogs and 100 cats.  On Monday, they start out the week with 80 dogs and 80 cats. Someone comes in to surrender their 13-year-old golden retriever that has lived with them forever. They’re moving and can’t be burdened by an arthritic dog with a weak bladder any more. Right behind the golden comes a mama dog with a litter of 6 puppies. Twenty minutes later, two dogs that were adopted on Saturday have been brought back because they peed inside the house. Three cats come in – all from the same place – their owner died and the daughter wants nothing to do with litter boxes. Two 1-year-old labs are dropped off – baby on the way so no more time for high-energy dogs.  A litter of kittens come in with their mama, still nursing. Five minutes later, another litter of kittens come in but there’s no mama – and they’re only four weeks old. So, we’re up to 86 dog kennels needed (the pups stay with mama in one kennel) and 84 cat kennels (the motherless kittens have been frantically placed with the last available kitten foster). Whew. Still space, right?

Then the animal control officers come in. Officer One has brought in  7 cats – three from traps and four abandoned – and 4 dogs, all without collars, tags or microchips. Officer Two has brought in 3 more dogs who were reported for chasing chickens. Officer Three has been very busy – 2 abandoned kittens, 3 cats roaming at large and 9 stray dogs nosing through the trash at the landfill. That brings our grand total up to 102 dogs (plus the puppies with their mama) and 96 cats. Two dogs more than the shelter can hold. A rolling cage is wheeled into the laundry room to hold one of the dogs – a chihuahua shaking with fear. A staff member takes home the elderly golden retriever to administer meds and free up a kennel.

It’s only Monday. And the shelter has room for 4 more cats and no more dogs. And yet Tuesday will come with more dogs and more cats. Followed by Wednesday with more dogs and more cats and a couple of parakeets.

Potential adopters stroll up and down the aisles, peering into kennels. The mutt with a gentle soul and good manners is given barely a glance as one couple shakes their heads and leave, complaining that there were no yorkies. or pomeranians. or westies.

A young woman brings her son to see the animals, only to turn right around and leave when she finds out it’s a ‘kill shelter.’ She pauses just long enough to look over her shoulder in disgust at the front desk workers, her gaze saying,”How can you be so cruel?”

Another potential adopter wants a dog who is housebroken and already knows commands for sit, stay, lay down, shake, roll over, play dead. Yet another wants a puppy and the puppy must be fluffy. The little pittie-hound mix pups are totally ignored.

In the background, a shelter worker crosses her fingers that her favorite, a 10-year-old border collie with a heart murmur, weak hips and the sweetest disposition will finally find a home. She’s been here a long time – longer than she has any right to be.

Thursday comes. Adoptions were good this week but with so many owner surrenders and strays, the shelter is at capacity – technically over if you count the three rolling cages stuffed into the back hallway to hold the three little dogs who did not get along with their family’s new puppy.

It is euthanasia day.

Who gets to live and who will die?

And who are the people behind that grim decision?

They are the ones who everyday open their hearts to the sure prospect of hope mingled with a bitter disappointment. They are the ones who look past the mange, the stinky ears, the overgrown nails, the tangled hair to see animals who were created with intention by God. They see the souls – the sometimes gentle, sometimes fearful question in the eyes of those animals: is it going to be better now?

Shelter dog

As they bathe 6-week-old puppies, frail from blood loss because they have been covered in so many fleas, these shelter workers vow silently to show these creatures that yes, it is going to be better now. When officers bring in an emaciated dog, abandoned inside a kennel for weeks – they passionately swear that yes, it is going to be better now. When a recently adopted dog is picked up as a stray and the ‘owner’ says to just keep him, the worker who did the adoption kneels down in front of those questioning eyes and promises, it will be better.

And when it isn’t – when no one chooses them, when the shelter runs out of space – their hearts break completely. And these workers go home and smile for their families and try to bury the guilt they feel that they were not able to help that one. and that one. and that one.

The ugly truth of the animal shelter isn’t the workers pulling up the syringe of pentobarbital. It isn’t the shelter director who is agonizing in his office about the high intake and low adoption rate as he brainstorms new ways to attract potential adopters.

It’s you.

The person who thinks it’s fine for their intact male dog to roam the neighborhood, spawning litter after litter of unwanted puppies. Puppies that end up at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The person who thinks they’ll make big bucks by backyard breeding … until the inbreeding starts creating puppies with deformities … puppies no one wants. Puppies that end up at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The person who spends $500 on the puppy for sale in the back of the truck at Wal-mart, encouraging that backyard breeder to keep right on breeding, never knowing the mama lives a mostly neglected life in a filthy cage outside until she becomes so covered in mammary tumors that she ends up at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The person who takes that puppy home and loses interest once the puppy reaches 7 months old and starts digging or chewing or barking – time to drop her off at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The person who decides they’d like to travel more and it’s time to dump their senior dog, the one with lumps and sores, at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The hunter who abandons the gun-shy dog on a back road, driving away in a cloud of dust, leaving him for someone else to deal with.

The nice middle-class family who refuses to get their dog spayed and complains when a wandering intact male leaves her with a litter of unwanted puppies. Puppies that end up at the shelter for someone else to deal with.

The person who hides behind a computer screen and leaves nasty messages, calling the shelter employees cruel, cold, unfeeling … all while petting the dog they purchased from a pet shop – shelter mutts are for someone else to deal with.

The person who complains that too much of their tax money has gone to the shelter – how could they possibly want to increase their budget for things like spay & neuter clinics or humane education or microchipping? That should be left for someone else to deal with.

The person who complains about the massive and daunting problem of animal welfare in this country … without offering any solution or any help. That’s for someone else to deal with.

For someone else to deal with.

The ugly truth is that so many people want to pass off their responsibility to someone else, anyone else. That’s why animal shelters exist. The emotional burden of what happens to those unwanted animals is passed off too – to sit squarely on the shoulders of the shelter workers and the volunteers and the rescues trying their damnedest to make a difference, to save lives.

The ugly truth is there is no easy answer. The real answer is simple but it is so hard because it requires persistence and endurance – there is no instant gratification. The only answer is spay and neuter. Pet overpopulation is an overwhelming problem and the only way to solve it is by reducing the population. Right now, society’s answer has been to reduce the population on the back end – i.e. killing. According to the Humane Society of the United States, 2.4 million adoptable cats and dogs are euthanized every year – that’s an animal every 13 seconds. The ASPCA reports a higher estimate of 2.7 million euthanized animals per year.

That’s madness, isn’t it?

Let’s change that.

Spay and neuter your pets – there’s no excuse for Rex to be accidentally spreading unknown litters around the neighborhood.

Adopt, don’t shop – shelter pets have every bit as much love to give as one from a breeder.

If you must buy, do your due diligence and fully inspect the premises of the breeder. See where mama lives full-time, not just when buyers come by. Ask about mama’s vet care. Ask for references.

Accept responsibility for the animal that you brought into your family. Dogs and cats don’t speak our language – they have to learn what we ask of them and that requires patience and consistency from you. They want to love you and that requires attention from you. They will get sick, they will get hurt, they may be inconvenient to care for – but that’s what you signed up for when you picked out the puppy with the waggly tail and the kitten with the fluffball fur.

If you do none of these things, then do this at least – look closely at those shelter workers and think – THINK- about the pain they willingly take on every day because someone else chose not to hold up their end of the bargain. And swallow the criticism that can float so easily to the surface. They are in the trenches – and what’s more, they repeatedly choose to be there because if not them, then who?

And that is the thought of every committed person involved in animal sheltering – if not me, then who?

 

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.


HeatherHunt_photoforbioABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heather Hunt is a writer based out of Corvallis, Oregon. Having worked for open-admission shelters on both coasts, she has seen the nitty gritty of the animal sheltering community – both the good and the bad but mostly the good. She is a proud foster failure, sharing her home with five rescue hounds (and her patient husband). You can read more of her writing atwww.thesimplelens.com.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Euthanasia

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