sheshistory
Moderator
Today was a pretty tough day.
As many of you know, I lost my older bulldog Linus on Wednesday. Today, I had originally scheduled a vet appointment for both Linus and Truman for their semi-annual physical - but only Truman made the trip this time.
For the semi-annual check up, I usually drop the dogs off in the morning and they run their tests, give any needed booster shots, give them a physical and call me when they are all finished. I was dreading dropping off Truman because I didn't want to be without him for any part of the day, and I knew the vet staff, used to seeing my bullies together, would ask about Linus.
And they did. And I was okay. I told a few of the vet techs who asked about Linus, and had been informed about his death by the emergency clinic where we brought him to have him cremated, about the circumstances of his death. They expressed their condolences and I thanked them, then waited patiently in the exam room for someone to take Truman back.
What happened next was one of most generous shows of compassion by a vet I have ever experienced.
It is Sunday, so Dr. Wright was the only vet on-staff and undoubtedly busy since many like take advantage of weekend hours. Despite this, Dr. Wright came in to exam room (we usually don't see him during the semi-annual check ups), took my hand, and said how sorry he was about Linus. He then proceeded to spend about 15 minutes of his time talking to me about Linus, about Linus' death, about all of the doubts that swirl in your mind after you lose someone you love - did I do enough? Was he in pain? Was he afraid?
Dr. Wright, compassionately and honestly, answered all of my questions and offered his expert insights on Linus, on his life, and on his death. With great certainty, he assured me that Linus died as he lived - in atmosphere of comfort and love. He talked to me about Truman and how he was handling Linus' passing, as he pet Truman -who at this point, was rolling around the floor with glee because of all the attention. I commented to him about how Truman, despite spending time with Linus' body, didn't really react to his death at all. Dr. Wright assured me that Truman was well aware of his old friend's decline - probably before I even was - and had accepted Linus' death as the natural conclusion to his diminishing state.
He closed our time in the exam room by giving me a hug and telling me I had given Linus a life that any dog could only wish for and that he would take the best care of Truman that he could - and if I needed anything, just call.
Of course, by that point, I was in full blown tears. Not only was I extremely comforted by Dr. Wright's words and insights but the fact that our vet, who doesn't own his own practice (we go to a Banfield Pet Hospital), took time out of what I am sure was a super busy and demanding day to express compassion, concern, and care at the passing of one of his patients, was so amazing to me.
I figured most of the time we speak of vets, we complain so it would be good to share a story about a vet going above and beyond his duty to comfort a grieving pet owner for no other reason than that he cared.
As many of you know, I lost my older bulldog Linus on Wednesday. Today, I had originally scheduled a vet appointment for both Linus and Truman for their semi-annual physical - but only Truman made the trip this time.
For the semi-annual check up, I usually drop the dogs off in the morning and they run their tests, give any needed booster shots, give them a physical and call me when they are all finished. I was dreading dropping off Truman because I didn't want to be without him for any part of the day, and I knew the vet staff, used to seeing my bullies together, would ask about Linus.
And they did. And I was okay. I told a few of the vet techs who asked about Linus, and had been informed about his death by the emergency clinic where we brought him to have him cremated, about the circumstances of his death. They expressed their condolences and I thanked them, then waited patiently in the exam room for someone to take Truman back.
What happened next was one of most generous shows of compassion by a vet I have ever experienced.
It is Sunday, so Dr. Wright was the only vet on-staff and undoubtedly busy since many like take advantage of weekend hours. Despite this, Dr. Wright came in to exam room (we usually don't see him during the semi-annual check ups), took my hand, and said how sorry he was about Linus. He then proceeded to spend about 15 minutes of his time talking to me about Linus, about Linus' death, about all of the doubts that swirl in your mind after you lose someone you love - did I do enough? Was he in pain? Was he afraid?
Dr. Wright, compassionately and honestly, answered all of my questions and offered his expert insights on Linus, on his life, and on his death. With great certainty, he assured me that Linus died as he lived - in atmosphere of comfort and love. He talked to me about Truman and how he was handling Linus' passing, as he pet Truman -who at this point, was rolling around the floor with glee because of all the attention. I commented to him about how Truman, despite spending time with Linus' body, didn't really react to his death at all. Dr. Wright assured me that Truman was well aware of his old friend's decline - probably before I even was - and had accepted Linus' death as the natural conclusion to his diminishing state.
He closed our time in the exam room by giving me a hug and telling me I had given Linus a life that any dog could only wish for and that he would take the best care of Truman that he could - and if I needed anything, just call.
Of course, by that point, I was in full blown tears. Not only was I extremely comforted by Dr. Wright's words and insights but the fact that our vet, who doesn't own his own practice (we go to a Banfield Pet Hospital), took time out of what I am sure was a super busy and demanding day to express compassion, concern, and care at the passing of one of his patients, was so amazing to me.
I figured most of the time we speak of vets, we complain so it would be good to share a story about a vet going above and beyond his duty to comfort a grieving pet owner for no other reason than that he cared.
