Just recently, I was confronted with a situation that I dread: being overwhelmed by emotion while providing end-of-life care. How can I explain this?
Decision-making
When you observe or encounter an animal whose quality of life is clearly deteriorating, the question of whether to stop there arises. A dog or cat that no longer eats, vomits everything it eats, or no longer moves to relieve itself are signs of a clear deterioration in its quality of life.
Whether the decision is made after multiple meetings or after the first consultation, it is always made after open discussion between the caregivers and the veterinarian. When a veterinarian performs the act of accompanying an animal to the end of its life, he or she always agrees with the decision made. If this is not the case, we are allowed to refuse.
When emotion takes hold of us, it is not a matter of regret or doubt about the validity of this decision.
The process
Once the decision has been made, the process may vary depending on the context and the animal. Whether we are in a clinic or at home, whether the owners wish to be present, whether the animal is lively or, on the contrary, very tired.
At home, most companions wish to be present, at least during the initial stages. The animal is first sedated: it gradually relaxes, lies down, and sometimes falls asleep. Once relaxed, an anesthetic is administered, followed by a drug that stops the heart and breathing.
The procedure is therefore gradual and painless, allowing those present to gather their thoughts if they wish. The overall impression is that of an animal falling asleep until it stops breathing.
Isn't that ultimately the ideal: to pass away surrounded by our loved ones, drifting off to sleep?
The fate of the remains
Once the procedure is complete and the heart has stopped, there are several options.
The remains can be buried: in France, this practice is prohibited by law, unless it is carried out under certain conditions by a specialized service provider (funeral home). Veterinarians have a duty to provide information only.
The other option is cremation, either collective (with other pets) or individual with the ashes returned to the owner. This cremation is carried out by independent service providers specializing in pets.
I have visited the crematorium I work with and have no doubt about the professionalism of the team. It is even possible to attend the cremation of your companion animal on request.
The care of our animals is therefore not an issue either.
So how can this emotion be justified?
I can only speak from my own personal experience here, but perhaps some of my colleagues will relate to my explanation.
For my part, I am always overcome with emotion when certain words are spoken by those accompanying the pet. Words that make me realize what a void this loss will leave in their lives, how strong the bond was between them and their companion.
A child, whose age corresponds to that of his dog, crying bitterly for the animal he grew up with. A lady who euthanizes her husband's dog, who died last year; this dog was all she had left of her husband, her last connection to him. A couple weeping bitterly over the remains of their cat, with whom they had slept the night before.
At times like these, I sometimes have tears in my eyes. I have no doubt that this is the right decision, that the procedure went well and that the animal passed away peacefully, and I know that he or she will be well cared for afterwards. I am just overcome by the sadness felt by those accompanying them.
A few breaths, a few pats on the eyes, a discreet wipe with a handkerchief: the goal is to remain discreet, not to make those accompanying the patient uncomfortable, not to steal their last moments with their companion. This is probably unprofessional, I realize that.
And then finally, when I think about it, I tell myself that there's no point in trying to change. In fact, that's probably why I chose to work from home...
