This gave me a flashback to when I was 14 and interning for a week at the local vet.
Super eventful week where I got to observe operations on animals with everything from handball sized tumors to cysts and even one or two castrations.
Got to go with the vet to slaughterhouses and farms and all that jazz.
I also got to assist in euthanizing a dog and I think that was what made me second guess a career as a vet.
I still think I would have loved that type of work, but in my naive little mind, I thought that euthanasia would be done only out of mercy and necessity. If the animal was too old, too sick or too injured to save.
But I was wrong. It was an 8 month old puppy. I don’t know the breed, but a smaller dog. Very energetic. He was so happy and excited. The owner came and dropped him off and didn’t make eyecontact with either the vet or me. He left, almost ashamed.
I asked the vet what was wrong with the dog and either the vet didn’t give me an answer or I have forgotten what he said.
To my 14 year old self, that dog looked completely healthy and normal. Why were we putting him down? I kept asking if we really had to do it. Couldn’t we figure out a way to let him live and the vet let me know that euthanasia was what was going to happen today.
He asked me to hold the dog. He was such a happy puppy. I held him and he was very hyper. First the vet gave him sedatives. “Then he won’t feel anything.”
The puppy calmed down in my arms and I hugged his warm little body. I didn’t want it to happen, but I was 14 and had no rights to the dog.
The vet filled a syringe with a neon purple liquid and I will never forget that because I didn’t expect it to have a color like that. As an adult, I’m sure the color was to distinguish it from other fluids so that the vet would never accidentally push that shit into an animal that came for shots or sedation. But 14 year old me didn’t know that. Just looked at that purple syringe as he pushed it into the dog and the dog became heavy in my arms.
I didn’t cry because I grew up in the countryside and had already seen my fair share of births and deaths which are both brutal experiences, so I had an emotionally distanced approach to these things.
But I gotta say that it left a deep impact on me that I had helped killing a dog that looked so healthy and happy. I didn’t think I could do that for a career. There was no mercy in killing an animal that had barely gotten to live and was so happy to exist. And maybe there was something wrong with him that I was just too young to understand or not allowed to know. Maybe he just looked healthy but was actually really sick. Maybe the owner didn’t leave so much in shame as he left out of grief.
I’ll never know. But from my perspective at the time, it was just so wrong to kill something just for the sake of it.
It’s over 20 years ago now and I still remember the warmth in the dog’s body and how heavy he became in my arms. He was brown and white. He was such a happy little guy. I don’t even know what his name was, but I’ll never forget.
If I had to guess that sounds like a parvovirus case.
Thanks for sharing , heart breaking stuff. I always like to assume good intent, and vets generally do their jobs because they love animals. So, I’m guessing parvo - super contagious and fatal.
Yeah, I could never say if you’re right or wrong, but yeah. I want there to be a reason and not for it to have been an owner who just wanted to get rid of their dog, so I’ll think it was parvo from now on.
As for the vets in that clinic, they were very nice people. The one who euthanized the dog was an incredibly nice and empathetic man and he took me under his wing all week while the other was a hardcore surgeon and he was utterly hilarious and very intimidating. Which is a great combo, I suppose. I have no doubt these guys cared about the animals they took care of.
My best experience was probably the big operation on an elderly dog with a huge tumor that grew out of the spleen. It legit looked like the tumor was a grey, smooth rock and the spleen was a shriveled slug sitting on top of it. It was incredible witnessing them work on the dog and it took such a long time. Afterwards the intimidating vet took me out to the sink and cut the tumor in half and left me look at it inside. It was one of the ugliest things I had seen. Just all grey and hard and alien and the smell of it was something I have never smelled since. I can best describe it as a cold smell. I dunno.
I was tasked with babysitting the dog after it woke up from surgery. He was so scared and confused and kept snuggling up into my arms despite being a fully grown lab. I made sure he ate some food and got something to drink, but he kept ending up snuggling up against me and wanting kisses and hugs. It felt like i was comforting a little child who was crying. He was such a sweet dog. He was 9 years old and was named Rico. The family that owned him had a bunch of kids and I understood why they had decided to spend all that money to save him instead of putting him down because he was too precious. He was so loved. That tumor was huge. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to carry that around in his body.
Anyways, I loved that dog even though I only got to spend a day with him where for most of it he was unconscious and split open like a hotdog, lol. I legit got to see all of his insides because the tumor was so big, they had to cut him open all the way. They poured water into him before closing him back up and holy shit, so many layers of tissue and skin to sow before calling it a job done. If it wasn’t for the euthanasia of the puppy, then the operation of Rico, would probably have convinced me to become a vet.
This gave me a flashback to when I was 14 and interning for a week at the local vet.
Super eventful week where I got to observe operations on animals with everything from handball sized tumors to cysts and even one or two castrations.
Got to go with the vet to slaughterhouses and farms and all that jazz.
I also got to assist in euthanizing a dog and I think that was what made me second guess a career as a vet.
I still think I would have loved that type of work, but in my naive little mind, I thought that euthanasia would be done only out of mercy and necessity. If the animal was too old, too sick or too injured to save.
But I was wrong. It was an 8 month old puppy. I don’t know the breed, but a smaller dog. Very energetic. He was so happy and excited. The owner came and dropped him off and didn’t make eyecontact with either the vet or me. He left, almost ashamed.
I asked the vet what was wrong with the dog and either the vet didn’t give me an answer or I have forgotten what he said.
To my 14 year old self, that dog looked completely healthy and normal. Why were we putting him down? I kept asking if we really had to do it. Couldn’t we figure out a way to let him live and the vet let me know that euthanasia was what was going to happen today.
He asked me to hold the dog. He was such a happy puppy. I held him and he was very hyper. First the vet gave him sedatives. “Then he won’t feel anything.”
The puppy calmed down in my arms and I hugged his warm little body. I didn’t want it to happen, but I was 14 and had no rights to the dog.
The vet filled a syringe with a neon purple liquid and I will never forget that because I didn’t expect it to have a color like that. As an adult, I’m sure the color was to distinguish it from other fluids so that the vet would never accidentally push that shit into an animal that came for shots or sedation. But 14 year old me didn’t know that. Just looked at that purple syringe as he pushed it into the dog and the dog became heavy in my arms.
I didn’t cry because I grew up in the countryside and had already seen my fair share of births and deaths which are both brutal experiences, so I had an emotionally distanced approach to these things.
But I gotta say that it left a deep impact on me that I had helped killing a dog that looked so healthy and happy. I didn’t think I could do that for a career. There was no mercy in killing an animal that had barely gotten to live and was so happy to exist. And maybe there was something wrong with him that I was just too young to understand or not allowed to know. Maybe he just looked healthy but was actually really sick. Maybe the owner didn’t leave so much in shame as he left out of grief.
I’ll never know. But from my perspective at the time, it was just so wrong to kill something just for the sake of it.
It’s over 20 years ago now and I still remember the warmth in the dog’s body and how heavy he became in my arms. He was brown and white. He was such a happy little guy. I don’t even know what his name was, but I’ll never forget.
If I had to guess that sounds like a parvovirus case.
Thanks for sharing , heart breaking stuff. I always like to assume good intent, and vets generally do their jobs because they love animals. So, I’m guessing parvo - super contagious and fatal.
Sad stuff though.
Yeah, I could never say if you’re right or wrong, but yeah. I want there to be a reason and not for it to have been an owner who just wanted to get rid of their dog, so I’ll think it was parvo from now on.
As for the vets in that clinic, they were very nice people. The one who euthanized the dog was an incredibly nice and empathetic man and he took me under his wing all week while the other was a hardcore surgeon and he was utterly hilarious and very intimidating. Which is a great combo, I suppose. I have no doubt these guys cared about the animals they took care of.
My best experience was probably the big operation on an elderly dog with a huge tumor that grew out of the spleen. It legit looked like the tumor was a grey, smooth rock and the spleen was a shriveled slug sitting on top of it. It was incredible witnessing them work on the dog and it took such a long time. Afterwards the intimidating vet took me out to the sink and cut the tumor in half and left me look at it inside. It was one of the ugliest things I had seen. Just all grey and hard and alien and the smell of it was something I have never smelled since. I can best describe it as a cold smell. I dunno.
I was tasked with babysitting the dog after it woke up from surgery. He was so scared and confused and kept snuggling up into my arms despite being a fully grown lab. I made sure he ate some food and got something to drink, but he kept ending up snuggling up against me and wanting kisses and hugs. It felt like i was comforting a little child who was crying. He was such a sweet dog. He was 9 years old and was named Rico. The family that owned him had a bunch of kids and I understood why they had decided to spend all that money to save him instead of putting him down because he was too precious. He was so loved. That tumor was huge. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to carry that around in his body.
Anyways, I loved that dog even though I only got to spend a day with him where for most of it he was unconscious and split open like a hotdog, lol. I legit got to see all of his insides because the tumor was so big, they had to cut him open all the way. They poured water into him before closing him back up and holy shit, so many layers of tissue and skin to sow before calling it a job done. If it wasn’t for the euthanasia of the puppy, then the operation of Rico, would probably have convinced me to become a vet.
I slept next to a Parvovirus infected puppy to make sure it survives, and it did. I don’t see the reasoning.