It is with conflicting feelings that I am reaching out to you. On the evening of May 18th, you stepped into our exam room and, quite honestly, dropped some really shitty news. Not by any fault of your own, the role of the messenger is a shitty job.
I want to begin with the fact that we were at a different ER before coming to you. I had a weird feeling we needed to change locations, despite that office having our records and expecting us. Perhaps because I haven't procreated, and therefore have channeled all my pent up maternal energy into my canine companion, I was granted some otherworldly insight. That's all I have to explain how we won the lottery to end up in your care that evening.
I'm sorry you had to see her like that. She was an amazing dog and, had she been well, would have charmed your socks off. But those gentle giants aren't meant long for this world, and her faulty heart made sure she wasn't an outlier in the longevity department.
She had been misdiagnosed with seizures and we spent a very scary and frustrating week caring for her as she fell, wet herself, refused to eat cheeseburgers (her favorite) and slowly lost all ability to function for more than 10 minutes without an episode of unconsciousness.
When you introduced yourself, compassion rolled off you in waves. You were kind and understanding. You gave us options (even when there really wasn't any) and explained the process when we came to that conclusion. You were so gentle with her, she liked being spoken to. In one of my darkest moments, I was grateful for your presence. We fell to pieces before we could properly thank you and didn't get to see you again. I'm sure being the night shift ER vet doesn't bring many joyful outcomes. Please know what you did for us was unreasonably amazing. I thank you deeply and will never forget it.
While my opinion on the divine is complicated, dogs are one of the few tethers to my belief that something in the universe cares. We don't deserve dogs. And I sure didn't deserve her unconditional love. And we're so thankful you were working that night she had to leave, thus becoming another instance that makes me squint up at the sky and think "maybe...".
Thank you.
