I stood in the room and watched as Mrs Jansen realized that she had to let Moe go.  Her demeanor changed from distraught to calm as she stroked his head. The tears never stopped, but the reason behind them changed.  

She had come to realize the unconditional love between her and Moe allowed her to be at peace. His body was failing and she needed to let him go.  

More tests or treatments would not change the fact that his body was failing. He needed her help to cross the rainbow bridge. She lovingly gave me permission to help him as well.

I can’t tell you the number of times I have had the quality-of-life and end-of-life discussion with clients. It’s part of the job.  But how I have handled it has grown and evolved over the years. I am old enough to have witnessed changes in how we perceive pet ownership and the amazing growth in our medical knowledge and resources.  

The number of decisions that we are faced with when our pets are ill can be overwhelming:

– How much to spend?
– What lengths to go to?
– How many medications can we give?
– How many veterinary visits will they tolerate?
– What is best for my pet?

The question we all want an answer to is “What would my pet want me to do?”

As our society has become more removed from nature and busy with activities and technology, we have lost the most vital form of communication–that communication we have with our soul, our higher-self, our innate knowledge of what is best for us in the highest sense.  This knowledge resides in our body and is found in that sensation you feel in your body when you sit quietly and ask the question, is it time to let my loved one go. Your body knows the answer. The art is in listening to it.

We get so wrapped up in our human needs, desires and egos that we forget we are all part of a larger connected non physical realm that has the knowledge of the ages locked into our bodies. We have forgotten how to listen to it.

The reason I still go to work every day is because I believe I make a difference.  Not just with my medical knowledge or surgical skills. I make a difference because I believe in listening with my soul to my clients and patients.  I empower my clients to make the decision that is right for them. I encourage them to take the facts and options I give them and make an informed decision.  I am not alone. My colleagues around the world are amazing individuals who have the unique task of balancing this dance of the human <-> animal bond. I am so grateful to be part of this profession as we move forward into a new age of recognizing that the advanced medical capabilities can be balanced with our inner wisdom and that of our pets’.    

I believe we all have the ability to make the difficult decision to euthanize our pets when we tune into our higher self.  A judgement free environment knowing that your pet loves you no matter what decision you make is a powerful place to stand.  

A willingness to tune into your higher self allows access to wisdom not clouded by ego, judgement and fear.  It allows you to make decisions that are best for you and your fur-baby. Create your own no judgement zone, tap into that inner wisdom when faced with the difficult decisions of euthanasia and be at peace with the decision you make.  

I would love to hear your experiences with euthanasia and how you handle it as a veterinary professional or as a person.  If you would like to talk more about accessing your inner wisdom, please contact me by CLICKING HERE to set up a free, 1 hr personal call with me.

This is a topic near and dear to my heart and I am always willing to explore what it means to you.  

I have many emotions swirling around me over this situation and the predominant emotion changes from hour to hour.  I wanted to explore some of them with you as I know they are not unique to me, but common to all of us who have animals in our lives.

The predominant overarching emotion is FEAR.  

Fear of the future-me not being able to handle the absence.
Fear of the future-me missing the soft fur, the eyes, the purr.
Fear of the pain this loss will create in my heart, my body, my soul.
Fear of judgement of others for how I handled his disease and when I chose to end his life.  

I feel GUILT, as well.

Guilt that I didn’t do everything I “could” have done to keep him here longer.
Guilt that I missed some doses of medications.
Guilt that I waited too long to start treatments.
Guilt that I didn’t do regular monitoring.

I also feel UNWORTHY of his love.  

I know all the things I have done that he can’t possibly know about. That if he did, he would surely not love me.  If he knew the real me, he would not love me the way he does.

I cannot look in his eyes anymore without crying, due to the absolutely crushing weight of emotions that I feel – FEAR. GUILT. UNWORTHINESS.

LOVE.

How can I possibly come home to a house empty of his presence?  How will I fall asleep at night without a good night snuggle with him first?  

How do I admit how much I needed him to listen to my fears and my worries.  He was so strong to listen to all of my emotional dumps on him and not once did he walk away from me in a huff.  Not once did he tell me to get a grip. Not once did he tell me he couldn’t listen to me any more. There were no eye rolls, no huffing, no disengaging.

How do I go through with his euthanasia?  When do I know it is the right time?

If I strip away the fears for just a moment I know it is time now.  I know I am delaying the inevitable hoping that there will be a way of avoiding the emotions I know are coming.

I am delaying because I hope he will just… die in his sleep. Why don’t more of our pets die in their sleep?   

I believe their last gift to us is that they allow us to face all of our fears, with shaking knees and tears, because they know we can handle it and grow.

The only way I know to deal with all of this in a healthy manner is to be brave and wade right into the emotional whirlpool that surrounds death and especially the choice of euthanasia.

I can only feel the depth of loss if I have felt the abundance of love.  

Can I be brave enough to feel the pain in my heart? Really feel it. Allow it to be with me in any way that it needs to be.  Can I find some part of me that realized the pain could not be there if I had not opened myself to the love in the first place?  There could be no pain if there was no love. That is the price of being human.

We love and therefore we grieve.  They are the two endpoints of the pendulum swing.  

Can I allow myself to grieve as much as I allowed myself to love?
Can I grieve harder than I loved, knowing that I also held back some of my love as a protection against this day as well? 

Facing his death, can I admit that I didn’t love him to the fullest because I knew this day would come and I wanted to protect myself.  It didn’t work. Now I hurt for the loss as well as the knowing that I held some love back and now it is too late.

So the only way out I know is to be willing to feel all of these emotions and love myself for them.  They are the indicators that I am human. They are the indicators that I am capable of love and worthy of being loved.  

Some damn black cat came into my life and look what happened.

He loved ME.

He loved the doubts, the insecurities, the lies, the shame, the failures, the me that is messed up and human.  

He loved ME.

He is my teacher, he has confidence in me and I hope to honor his memory with the lessons I learned from him.

I am a veterinarian, who — when faced with the challenges and burdens of our profession — found a way to stop feeling hopeless and instead see the beauty and peace in those challenges.

Our profession has forgotten how to center our humanity in the veterinary clinic.

Watch the video to see how you can re-ignite your love of veterinary medicine by reconnecting to your higher self!

http://www.healthyselfdvm.com/support-veterinarians/