A very thin, gray line

Most days, I love my job. Even when the animals are sick or die, I feel that we have done our best to help them. Their days of care are filled with love and compassion, and they have been kept comfortable throughout their recoveries or last days.


Once upon a time, I was anti-euthanasia, believing that animals would die when their time came and that we had no right to screw with their life on earth. Since then, I have been exposed to animals that are suffering greatly and have no hope of recovery, lingering in pain for days or weeks past their time. At that point, euthanasia is a gift of peace, and I have reconciled myself with that.


But then, there are days when euthanasia feels like a far cry from a peaceful gift; sometimes it feels more like murder. And I hate those situations, I hate them so much! Now don't get me wrong- the doctor's I work for will not euthanize an animal that doesn't have a medical condition that warrants it. If someone calls wanting their pet put down because they don't feel like moving with them, we refer them to a rescue organization.

The gray area occurs when there is a medical problem that shows no outward signs, is something potentially fixable or is a problem that will not be life-altering for a few more months. For example, a cat that is diagnosed with cancer, but still feels fine and the owners want to put to sleep before it starts to feel badly. It is a loving decision on their part; they don't want their beloved pet to suffer. But, even though the cat has a terminal disease, he potentially could have 6 more months of comfort and normalcy before the inevitable, so why end his life now? Euthanasia is ethically acceptable in this situation because there is a diagnosis, and it is a painful one that will cause a lot of suffering before finally ending the cats life. But morally, how can you perform euthanasia on an animal that doesn't appear or necessarily even feel sick? One that is purring? Or barking, running around and giving kisses? It's just so depressing when you know that euthanasia is the right decision eventually, just not right at that moment.

I know it's not my place to question such a personal, emotionally draining decision, but some days it just breaks my heart to the point that I can hardly stand it. Still, my job is the same as any other day- offer gentle hands and kind words, and allow for comfort in the end. Ultimately, that is the most important thing.