Last week a woman came in to our clinic with a little dog that was unwell. ‘Don’t worry’, the vet told her, ‘it just sounds like gastro. We can pop him on fluids and he’ll likely feel much better tomorrow.’
The woman explained she couldn’t afford the hospital stay. ‘Okay’, the vet said, ‘we can give him an anti nausea injection and some subcut fluids. I’m sure that will perk him up.’
The woman denied this too. ‘He’s unlikely to get better without any supportive care.’ The vet protested.
‘I know.’ Replied the owner. ‘Just put him down.’
What do you do when an owner is flat broke and asks that you euthanise her animal? What more can you offer? You can’t send it home, as it will suffer, but the owner had made up her mind anyway.
The vet brought the 4yr old dog out the back and asked that I help put a catheter in it. He quietly and sadly explained the situation, and expressed how guilty he felt that he couldn’t come to a better agreement.
Being my own chaotic, wilful, naive self - I threw my arms in the air in protest and decided that we were NOT euthanising this dog just yet. He couldn’t go to a rescue as he was unwell and hadn’t had any diagnostics. He couldn’t go home with his owner as she could not afford his care. But he could go home with me.
The owner quickly agreed to surrender, relief thick in her voice, and requested that she could say one last goodbye. After a few moments the little dog was brought back out, put on fluids, and left to get better.
Days passed and he didn’t get better. He refused to eat. He was lethargic, bradycardic (heart rate low) and his temperature was always low; he was so cold all the time. It was like he was suffering with the severest of depressions. I told myself (and my colleagues) that if he did have an underlying condition, if it was something more complicated, that we would let him go.
I have 6 pets of my own and nobody to share the burden - I could barely spare the $$ for fluids, anti nausea and pain relief. It was not feasible to keep fighting for a dog that wasn’t mine - that wasn’t anybody’s - despite how hard it would be to call it quits.
After 4 days in hospital, an additional 2 blood tests and a very sad little dog; we were no closer to an answer, but we were MUCH closer to euthanasia.
I took him home. IV still in, no real plan, I just wanted to get him out of the place where he was abandoned. Within an hour he had found his spot on the couch. Another hour passed and he began eating. After 6 hours I removed his IV as it was clear there was no need for him to return to the clinic; he was bright, lively, inquisitive and almost (not quite, but almost) happy.
Welcome home, Chewie. This is only a halfway house and in due time we will find you your second chance at forever, but for now you are safe and loved and welcome.
This is a happy ending (and beginning) but things could have gone in the other direction, and do on a weekly basis. Chewie was incredibly loved by his owner. She had never skipped a vaccination or a worming tablet, he was well groomed and well mannered, he had a beautiful leather collar with a gleaming blue name tag attached to it. For 4 years she loved and adored him, but because of the current pandemic she had to say goodbye to her little love.
I feel nothing but sorrow for her. I hope she trusts that we will find him another owner who loves him as dearly as her. I hope she doesn’t feel guilty for too long.
As for me, I’m thankful to be in a position where I can help change the life of an animal. I love my job as a vet nurse, but recently it’s become more apparent that my heart will always lie with animal rescue. I miss it, I crave it, it’s what I’m good at in life.
Chewie has fueled my purpose and passion once more, and helped me realise that in a world that’s falling apart, I still have the ability to be good and do good. He certainly helped me just as much if not more than I helped him.
Here’s to a future where we’re both smiling big.
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