BC Dick’s Cat Dies

Losing a loved one is never an easy thing. Regarding pets, I’ve been on both sides and neither side is fun. When you’re on both sides at once, it can make you downright suicidal.

When I was a Junior in Vet School we did our first surgicals. Back in those days, the dark ages now, surgeries would be performed by the students and by default the animals would be euthanized before recovering from anesthesia because most of the students could not surgerize (what, it could be a word) their way out of a wet paper sack. It was considered more humane, and it frankly probably was. These animals were going to be put down in shelters anyway. Fortunately technology happens and they don’t do it that way anymore.

But this one day, our surgical groups (three ppl each group) were getting ready to perform what is called a FHO, or Femoral Head Ostectomy. It’s a cheap way to reduce pain for Hip Dysplasia. The groups were all gonna fuck up…that’s how we learn unfortunately…. and these dogs would all be put down before they experienced the pain of their shitty student orthopedic surgeons.

Now, surgery wise I was somewhat of a “Gym Rat”. Meaning every spare moment of my first three years I spent in the surgical ward learning. I wanted to be the best Veterinary Surgeon who ever lived. One of the advisors even let me cut as a Sophomore. He could have been fired had he been found out to have let me do that. But the point is, one of the student surgical groups comes to me. Three girls, one of whom I was dating at the time. And they present this dog to me, the dog they were supposed to cut that day and then euthanize. They beg me to go to Dr. XXXXX and plead for him to spare this dog. He’s gonna say no, I tell them. Not if YOU ask him.

Crap.

I examine the dog. Nothing wrong with his hips or anything else. And there’s something about this dog. His eyes kinda just bore through me.

Who’s gonna take this dog if by some miracle Dr. XXXXX says yes?

You are, they say.

Crap.

I look at the dog again and get the eyes.

Crap.

So I go to Dr. XXXXX and explain the situation. I’ve garnered a bit of respect in the surgical dept up to now, but I’m about to fuck it up, I’m thinking. Dr. XXXXX smiles and says let’s go examine the dog. And we do. We repeat everything I’ve already done, and Dr. XXXXX agrees the dog is physically and orthopedically sound. And his disposition was amazing. Smartest and most gentle dog I’ve ever owned.

Dr. XXXXX gives his approval. Now I have a dog I never expected to have.

But he was the best dog in evar. He was a Golden Retriever/Lab mix. I named him Murphy.

A few years later, when I had bought my first clinic, I was very busy. Murphy would sleep in my office during the day, but I never went anywhere without him. One day, we drove out to visit my parents. We had done this often, but on this day he didn’t want to leave with me. I guess he was aging now and didn’t like the up and down out of the truck and the constant movement type stuff. When it was time for us to leave that evening to go home, he hid behind the couch and would not come out. We all laughed about it, but I knew. I told Mom that he’s made his choice…take good care of him.

A couple of years laterer, his age caught up to him completely. It was during a snow and ice storm. Mom’s habit was to let him out for the bathroom, then he’d come back and let her wipe his feet before going back in the house. But on this day he went down on the ice and couldn’t get back up. And his size made it such that Mom couldn’t do that indefinitely.

Mom called and told me I needed to come to the house, and gave me a brief synopsis. I showed up and took blood and went back to the clinic and ran it. Kidney failure. In a big way. I didn’t want to believe it. He was a dog that should have lived forever. Anyway….then went back to Mom’s house with “implements” in hand.

He was back in the house by now, but he couldn’t get up on his own. And if you got him up, he couldn’t stay up. There was no choice. It had to be done. And as silly as it might seem, I looked him in the eyes, and he looked back. He got a decade more of life than he would have otherwise, and it felt like he knew and was ready for what was coming. I wasn’t ready for it though. But that doesn’t change the simple facts.

When I inserted the needle into his vein, I told him he was the best dog I ever had (And even to this day he still is) and he’ll never be forgotten. He went peacefully. And he hasn’t been forgotten. We still talk about him all the time.

That dog was a human trapped in a dog’s body.