I had a very bad, no good, rotten day today. I woke early since I was due at the barn by 7:30, and went to bring my old dog, Nikki in from the garage where she sleeps. She is usually waiting for me, but this morning there was no sign of her. I called. Still nothing. I went into the garage and found her lying on the concrete between the cars. She barely reacted when I spoke to her and petted her. Nikki is a big dog, 64 pounds, and at 14 she is very, very old for a big dog. Pretty much every day has been a gift over the past few months.

And she’s been developing more and more physical problems. Cataracts to the point she is nearly blind, she’s almost stone deaf, she breaths like she’s just run a marathon, arthritis in her hips, incontinence which, despite medicine, has been a continuing problem. Today it was clear she was not a happy animal. I finally got her on her feet and into the house. She does tend to eat like a cat in that she grazes, but she hadn’t touched her food from yesterday. She refused a treat, and there was no tail wag. There was no joy, and I realized that it was time.

I use a vet clinic just down the road that is something of a factory. A lot of vets work there. Turnover is frequent, and there is a focus on convincing people to run massive numbers of tests, and do a lot of very expensive procedures. Since I’m pretty hard headed I have always been able to say no, and since it’s a long way into town I had continued to use this place. So, I call and explain the situation and they tell me to come right now. I call Gilly and cancel my riding lesson, and I managed to boost Nikki into the foot well of the car. I make the drive wiping away tears because I love her and she’s been with me for a long time.

At the clinic they take us into a “euthanasia room” That has little birds twittering in a cage, and a cross on the wall, etc. etc. For me it was more offensive then comforting, but I figured — okay, maybe this works for other people. I sit on the floor with Nikki’s head in my lap and this vet comes in. The woman asks what’s going on. I tell her. She then says she has to examine the dog to make sure. She does a two minute exam — “Well good news, her heart sounds fine, her lungs are clear”, and then she announces it’s not time, and there are _lots_ of treatments we haven’t tried. I point out to her that this dog is 14 and not happy. She ignores me and goes on about this pill and that pill, and this treatment and that treatment. I say forcefully — “I’m not spending hundreds of dollars on a 14 year old dog who is failing.” At which point she gets nasty and says, “Well, we don’t _kill_ animals on just your say so.” I am completely rocked back by this, and I realize that this woman is playing head games with me, and trying to guilt me into treatments. I was breathless, and I sat there trying to figure out if I needed to just go off on her. She then says, “Well, if you just can’t cope we can find her another home.” Yeah, like I’m going to give away my elderly dog who has been my shadow and companion of my heart for 14 years.

I’ve steeled myself for this parting. I had been tearful, but now I’m so enraged that I can’t find the words. The woman tells me she’ll be back with some medication and she leaves. When she finally comes back she says in this snotty voice — “Well, since money is such an issue for you I’m going to give you these pills… _for free_! At this point I just want the hell out of there. We leave, and the desk says “Here’s the wet food that’s been ordered for your dog.” I end up paying for it, and find myself in the parking lot trying to boost Nikki back into the car while she yelps in pain. I debate going in and displaying a red head’s anger, but Nikki is shaking and panting, and we are trained to be polite. I finally get her in the car and take her home.

I called my equine vet who was just speechless over this. She said, “As if a two minute exam can match what you know about your pet!” And as another vet has said, “Better one month early than one minute too late.” The rest of the day was spent dealing with business that couldn’t wait, and truthfully I could not find the strength to prepare for this yet again. So because of this woman’s arrogance I now have to steel myself to face this next week, and prepare to say goodbye because this poor animal’s body is wearing out, and the gift I can bestow on her is never allowing her to suffer needlessly.

The other thing that will happen is a strongly worded letter to the owner of this clinic calling out this woman vet by name. And finding a new vet for my cats who isn’t running a money generating factory by playing on people’s very real love for their pets, or guilt tripping them into letting an old dog linger and decline.

Sorry for the rant, but I just had to vent.