Please decide if you really want to read this. I hate sounding like such a drama queen, I just don't know what else to say.
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Full Version: This Is Punky's Story - Please Be Careful...
I'm writing it right now. I finally got a few hours to myself. I'm sorry for what I am about to post here. I am selfish because I am writing it more for me than for you. The potential for pain it can cause in you is profound.
Please decide if you really want to read this. I hate sounding like such a drama queen, I just don't know what else to say.
.
Please decide if you really want to read this. I hate sounding like such a drama queen, I just don't know what else to say.
.
We are taught and assured that euthanasia is kind, gentle, quick, and painless.
I spent every moment of the last day of Punky's life with him. I mean REALLY savored every hair, every breath, every single touch. EVERYTHING was precious. The breeze through the pine trees, the sunshine, the birds, the windchimes, and us. Time stood still. But earlier that morning he was so restless. I had to keep rescuing him from simply launching himself off the bed. I took him outside but he didn't have to go, I tried to feed him, but he didn't want to eat. I gave him a pill to hopefully calm him, though they did nothing for him the night before. Finally, in a moment of clarity I realised that I had not spoken to him since two days before. That morning, two days ago, I had found him standing, practically leaning against the hallway wall, and as I bent down to him, I thought he communicated to me that he was so tired..so so tired and ready to go....if it was ok with me. In that instant, I told him the only thing I could...Ok, yes, my darling. At that exact moment, his legs fell out underneath him and he collapsed. I shifted him to his side and he laid there in the hallway, calm for once. I just knew he was relieved. Ian (...I'm tired of calling him 'my boyfriend') saw him fall and I looked up to him as I pet Punky laying on his side and implored "Please don't make us go to New York!.....It's over." And I cry, and he says finally with a heavy sigh...Ok.
In the morning of his last day, Punky is restless, pacing, circling, launching, and I realise that all I've been doing is dragging him around from the bed to outside to the bed to the kitchen to the bed, and on the bed, on the bed, on the bed, on the bed...and not communicating with him. Immediately then, I slide into bed next to him and send him this thought: Soon, sweetheart. It will be over real soon. I promise. At this very instant he slept. He laid on his side and slept - just like that morning two days ago when everyone agreed it was his time. He became calm for the first time in hours and hours and hours. I just knew he was restless because he didn't know when this would end. He was uncomfortable and probably getting impatient! I did not leave his side unless I had to and did not even cross our small tiny bedroom unless I was sure that he was not going to wake up. That was at 12-noon. The vet was scheduled to come over at 5:30-6:00 pm. We had maybe 6 hours left together. Time stood still, yet the clock kept ticking. 2pm I was still with him on the bed, and fighting the need to take a nap with him. Why waste these last hours in sleep? I stayed awake with him the night before, watching TV, but aware of his every breath, only suc%%bing to sleep around 5 am, then waking up again at 8am. But at 2pm I decided that this would be our last nap together ever, so be it. I gathered him into me as I have done for years and we napped. Around 3pm I woke up to him waking and pulling himself up to a sitting position. I was desperate for the spell not to be broken. I took him outside to see if he had to go. Unfortunately not. There was nothing in him. I brought him back to the bed and assured him once more that It will happen soon. Rest easy, and have patience my baby. I cried and even told him if he wanted to go right now, he could go. Though he was wide awake, once I said this, he laid down and he slept once again. Around 4:30 this happened again, when we had maybe only an hour left with eachother. Ian had been gone, and had returned home by now. He had been trying to get a confirmation all day from the vet that someone would be able to come out. At this point, 4:30 pm we still did not know for sure who or when or even if! I was desperate to keep my promise to him! The thought of the vet not coming and making Punky go through one more night was simply unbearable! Finally, at 5:30pm the vet calls and says she is on her way. It was at this time that Punky wakes up. I am right there, sitting on the bed, petting him and comforting him. He launches himself into my lap. Again, tighter into my lap. He turns around in my lap and presses himself closer against me. Again and again. He knows!! He knows she is on her way!! I am brave and confident for him and tell him as I hold and pet him......Any moment now...Any moment now. It's almost over..Shhhhhh..baby..shhhh. Though the blood has completley left my head and I feel sick and dizzy and my heart is racing.
At 6pm she arrives. I knew it would be her, but it is not who I wanted. I wanted MY vet..the family vet whom I've known since the 80s. He couldn't come for reasons never explained to me, and he sent her instead. My desperate promise to Punky was too important, so I went along with it. Punky was awake and still pressed so close to me as she sat down on the bed and offered her hand for him to smell. I see her tray on the floor with the bottle of the euthanasia, and my heart is just racing as if I am the one about to die. Without further ado, she has a syringe and she is filling it with the pink toxin. Ian is there too, standing to my right, his hands on me or on Punky, I can't tell.. Ian asks her how long it takes to work. She said "It takes only seconds". I have to scoot Punky partly off my lap to put him on his side so that a front arm is available to the vet. I am transfixed on his arm as she wets it with alcohol and parts the hairs to find a vein. With a couple of touches to the forearm, she believes she has the vein in sight and situates the syringe in her hand. I notice with irony that she is going to inject him with the needle pointed upside down...but she notices it too and turns it around 180 degrees before she touches his skin with it.
I am frozen. I am glad it is time, as I promised him. But I am still frozen. Holding my Punky. I can't hear, I can't feel, I can't breathe. I am gently restraining and holding him, out of habit from my own days as a veterinary technician. He is not calm. Ohhhhh..My poor baby.
The moment the very tip of the needle penetrated his skin he cried out. Not the same cry as when I'd clip his nails. This was different, and he barely had the strength for crying. He cried from deep within, barely making it to his lips, and he struggled to get his leg back. He struggled to get his legs under him and to rise. The vet said "I haven't poked you yet buddy!" And she tried again. But his struggling made her stop. She said "He doesn't like me holding his leg like this". This is not what I am thinking. Failing at the first leg, she went for the other front leg, grabbing it further out from him. He fought back and cried out longer, louder, higher-pitched, and sweeter this time......and I reacted with a Mommy's Instinct. Mommies the world over, of all species, from the beginning of time, know about this. "STOP!!" Wait! No! Nooooo!!!!" Ian said to me "Baby, no." and he leaned over to physically hold poor Punky down, with a good amount of effort. I cry out: "No!! He's not ready yet!! He's Scared!!! No!!! He's scared!!!" Any hopes of holding back tears during this procedure was completely plowed over by the deep, painful sobbing that overcame me at that moment. But despite my protests, the vet had found the vein and began injecting the toxin into him, with Ian forcing him down. I felt like our souls were being RAPED by Ian and this vet! I cried helplessly as it entered his vein and into his system; and he........he threw back his head and he opened his mouth in a brutal combination of a cry and a gasp. He cried and gasped several times quickly, each time pulling his head upwards and away from his leg in convulsions, mouth open and tense, eyes fixated, as if the pain were light-years beyond any comprehension. What was this????? Was it....He could feel the sudden fluid enter his fragile, dehydrated veins? Or..he could feel the toxin burn a destructive pathway?? Or..he could feel it shut down his breathing? Or..it was causing him the excruciating pain of a heart attack?? Or..His body and mind were fighting it?? This was exceeding my absolute worst nightmares! Despite my absolute horror, I put my head to his and cradled him, kissing him over and over, no doubt # his hair with my tears, rocking him, sobbing, telling him its ok. Its ok! Be brave!! Be Brave!!! My baby!!!!!!!!
He seemed to calm down and I thought this would be the end..... I was so pathetically, incompetantly, wrong.
He laid there with his eyes open. Were they cognizant?? Oh God I wish I knew. I wish I was looking at his face and not his chest as it continued to breathe. "Odd...." the vet said. I'm crying "He doesn't want to die! Can't we stop now!!! Ohh Stop!! He's still alive!"
I thought he wanted to die!!! Oh my God ###!!!!!!! I had believed whatever I wanted to believe!!! I misunderstood what he wanted!!!!!
As she filled her syringe again I cried "Why didn't you give him enough the first time!!?!!" to which she replied clinically "I gave him the proper amount for his body weight".
She went for a back leg. As I cried, I prayed that he wouldn't still cry at this poking. I think he jolted but he didn't cry out and struggle. I'm crying my eyes out hysterically, and my hands are still on him. She says "He's a tough little guy" and she says "You know, he senses that your upset too (so he's trying to live)" Hearing this was a big knife through my heart, and I cry more thinking I am betraying him. Ian says to me "Baby, close his eyes". I try, with a shaky hand, then the vet says "Their eyes don't close like ours do". She injects the full syringe into the vein of his back leg. I put my fingertips on his heart. Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Still beating. His breathing strong and sure. "He's a tough little guy!" she says. I detect panic in her voice. She can't believe it, I can't believe it, my dear Ian has actual tears in his eyes for the first and last time. "I gave him enough for four dogs his size!" she says! Still he lives on. "This is Awful! Oh, this is awful!!!!" I repeat in hysteria over and over.....
She fills the syringe for the third time, and then feels for the location of his heart. I wish at this point that she had done this from the beginning. Ian tried to pull my head away so I wouldn't see this. She finds his heart and enters the needle to the hilt. She drew out blood into the syringe first. A flourish of blood that was almost black, before she returned it and the full syringe of toxin directly into his heart. I could not look away. Though now I wish I was looking into his eyes instead to know how much he was feeling. I still had my fingertips on his heart as she injected. After the syringe was emptied, his dear sweet, strong, precious heart still beat strong. And he still breathed. He would not quit, God help us. The vet says "Well this is a first for me!" I was horrified by the fact that I knew she'd been practising for 18 years and she says this is the first time she's seen something like this. And I was mortified that she would run out of poison before he would give up. She had enough in her bottle for one more syringe-full and she put it into his heart. My hand had wandered to the other one cradling his sweet little head as she loaded the syringe. After the forth injection and just a few seconds of silence I asked "Did that do it?" and she said "Yes". I put my fingers to his little chest to feel no more heart beat and no more breathing. Dear God where are you!!! Dear Punky WHERE ARE YOU???? Oh my god! God damn it!! He wasn't ready to die. He didn't want to be TAKEN like that and we forced him! What have I done!??!!!??
I cannot believe that before she left the room with Ian, as I held Punky's warm, still body, I actually had the manners to thank the vet for coming out. What the ###!!!!
I heard them talking in the living room, and I assumed Ian was probably pullling out the checkbook. I didn't know and didn't care what this bitch was going to charge for her "services".
I held my dear baby's body a mere moment and then in the midst of my remorse, I strangely reminded myself that I desperately had to pee. I have been holding it for hours, not wanting to leave his side during his last hours. I got up and walked out of the bedroom, stretching in the hallway, yet completely in shock. 10 minutes later, well after I had returned to Punky's side, the vet long gone, and Ian sitting with me on the bed, Ian and I start having words with one another. And he says "Well you should pet him while he still has brain activity". I jump! WHAT!!!!!!!?? and cry all over again. His brain is still active and I left him!!! He said that although everything shuts down it still takes several minutes for the brain to die. I cry so hard now and pet him and kiss him and pet him. He is still so hot to the touch though his eyes are glazed over. How may more ways can I betray him tonight!??!! Ian tried to comfort me by saying that people do crazy things under duress, such as running away uncontrollably, so Punky understands if I had to step away for a moment. Maybe his spirit was still around and he saw me just simply leave the room!!!
I went into hysterics! I thrashed and kicked my legs and pulled at my hair at the thought of what we had just done, and said I wanted to die. I worked myself into madness. Eventually, after I exhausted myself, he left the room to begin digging Punky's grave. We decided earlier that day that he was home. No cremation, no pet cemetary. We would bury him in our yard. Ian felt it would not be healthy for me to hold onto him overnight, so he left to begin digging in our chosen spot. I was alone with the body of my boy. Even though I thought I wouldn't do this, I began to smell him. I absorbed the smells of his mouth, his precious ears, his black and white fur, and his sweet pink and black little feet. I spooned his body with me in that moment, and couldn't get him close enough to me. Tighter and tighter. I covered him completely, as if to protect him. I cried and cried and apologized. I lay with him like this for 45 minutes, while Ian was outside in the cold digging all the while. I finally raised myself up on the bed and looked at Punky's body. In morbid love, flexed all his legs and noticed that one leg was completely flexible, two legs were going stiff, and one leg had grown stiff beyond any normal bending. In horror, I noticed that the hind leg that received the injection had a huge hematoma. Either it was the poison or his blood that completely swelled his joint and showed dark purple through his skin. Either way, this incompetant vet had ripped his vein to ribbons trying to inject him with the poison. In sadness, I lifted his lips to see that his tongue and gums were grayish purple. Though we are taught that the newly deceased will usually defecate or urinate after they die due to lost muscle control, Punky had none of that. His poor, sweet, hard-working body had nothing to give.
I left his body and checked on Ian outside. He was digging and working up a sweat. After I felt he had dug deep and wide enough we returned to Punky's body inside. I didn't know how to lift him. I wanted to carry him like a baby, though Ian wanted to carry him like a corpse, wrapped in a blanket. I won, though I didn't know how to pick him up. He felt SO heavy without his life inside him. I carried him the best I could into his grave. We placed him directly onto the soft fragrant soil, and covered him with a thin white cloth. I know that parts of him were still warm. His chest, between his front legs...and we buried him handful by handful of soft soil, covering the white gauze. As each handful of dirt landed, it outlined his body through the fabric. I cried my apologies for doing this to him. We buried him lovingly and heartbreakingly handful by handful until he was completely covered. Only then did we use the shovel to fill in the rest of the hole. We patted the mound, and I told Ian that it was beautiful.
The rest is trying not to think about what his body - the body that I loved so much - looks like as it is decomposing, and trying to hold back from falling completely apart thinking about this entire experience. I knew if I could write about it here, sparing no details, that I could be purged and healed. If only all I had to do was mourn his passing and simply miss him. That is nothing compared to the burden I have to carry now. This botched euthanasia completely eclipses all normal mouring of his passing. It took FOUR injections, two of them straight into his dear heart, to kill my strong, proud, precious boy!!!!!
I beg and beg and beg his forgiveness and understanding. I love him so much, and both of us did what we did out of love and ignorance.
And that is all.
Whether you had the stomach to read this post or not, I love you all, and I thank you for helping me to get through this.
I spent every moment of the last day of Punky's life with him. I mean REALLY savored every hair, every breath, every single touch. EVERYTHING was precious. The breeze through the pine trees, the sunshine, the birds, the windchimes, and us. Time stood still. But earlier that morning he was so restless. I had to keep rescuing him from simply launching himself off the bed. I took him outside but he didn't have to go, I tried to feed him, but he didn't want to eat. I gave him a pill to hopefully calm him, though they did nothing for him the night before. Finally, in a moment of clarity I realised that I had not spoken to him since two days before. That morning, two days ago, I had found him standing, practically leaning against the hallway wall, and as I bent down to him, I thought he communicated to me that he was so tired..so so tired and ready to go....if it was ok with me. In that instant, I told him the only thing I could...Ok, yes, my darling. At that exact moment, his legs fell out underneath him and he collapsed. I shifted him to his side and he laid there in the hallway, calm for once. I just knew he was relieved. Ian (...I'm tired of calling him 'my boyfriend') saw him fall and I looked up to him as I pet Punky laying on his side and implored "Please don't make us go to New York!.....It's over." And I cry, and he says finally with a heavy sigh...Ok.
In the morning of his last day, Punky is restless, pacing, circling, launching, and I realise that all I've been doing is dragging him around from the bed to outside to the bed to the kitchen to the bed, and on the bed, on the bed, on the bed, on the bed...and not communicating with him. Immediately then, I slide into bed next to him and send him this thought: Soon, sweetheart. It will be over real soon. I promise. At this very instant he slept. He laid on his side and slept - just like that morning two days ago when everyone agreed it was his time. He became calm for the first time in hours and hours and hours. I just knew he was restless because he didn't know when this would end. He was uncomfortable and probably getting impatient! I did not leave his side unless I had to and did not even cross our small tiny bedroom unless I was sure that he was not going to wake up. That was at 12-noon. The vet was scheduled to come over at 5:30-6:00 pm. We had maybe 6 hours left together. Time stood still, yet the clock kept ticking. 2pm I was still with him on the bed, and fighting the need to take a nap with him. Why waste these last hours in sleep? I stayed awake with him the night before, watching TV, but aware of his every breath, only suc%%bing to sleep around 5 am, then waking up again at 8am. But at 2pm I decided that this would be our last nap together ever, so be it. I gathered him into me as I have done for years and we napped. Around 3pm I woke up to him waking and pulling himself up to a sitting position. I was desperate for the spell not to be broken. I took him outside to see if he had to go. Unfortunately not. There was nothing in him. I brought him back to the bed and assured him once more that It will happen soon. Rest easy, and have patience my baby. I cried and even told him if he wanted to go right now, he could go. Though he was wide awake, once I said this, he laid down and he slept once again. Around 4:30 this happened again, when we had maybe only an hour left with eachother. Ian had been gone, and had returned home by now. He had been trying to get a confirmation all day from the vet that someone would be able to come out. At this point, 4:30 pm we still did not know for sure who or when or even if! I was desperate to keep my promise to him! The thought of the vet not coming and making Punky go through one more night was simply unbearable! Finally, at 5:30pm the vet calls and says she is on her way. It was at this time that Punky wakes up. I am right there, sitting on the bed, petting him and comforting him. He launches himself into my lap. Again, tighter into my lap. He turns around in my lap and presses himself closer against me. Again and again. He knows!! He knows she is on her way!! I am brave and confident for him and tell him as I hold and pet him......Any moment now...Any moment now. It's almost over..Shhhhhh..baby..shhhh. Though the blood has completley left my head and I feel sick and dizzy and my heart is racing.
At 6pm she arrives. I knew it would be her, but it is not who I wanted. I wanted MY vet..the family vet whom I've known since the 80s. He couldn't come for reasons never explained to me, and he sent her instead. My desperate promise to Punky was too important, so I went along with it. Punky was awake and still pressed so close to me as she sat down on the bed and offered her hand for him to smell. I see her tray on the floor with the bottle of the euthanasia, and my heart is just racing as if I am the one about to die. Without further ado, she has a syringe and she is filling it with the pink toxin. Ian is there too, standing to my right, his hands on me or on Punky, I can't tell.. Ian asks her how long it takes to work. She said "It takes only seconds". I have to scoot Punky partly off my lap to put him on his side so that a front arm is available to the vet. I am transfixed on his arm as she wets it with alcohol and parts the hairs to find a vein. With a couple of touches to the forearm, she believes she has the vein in sight and situates the syringe in her hand. I notice with irony that she is going to inject him with the needle pointed upside down...but she notices it too and turns it around 180 degrees before she touches his skin with it.
I am frozen. I am glad it is time, as I promised him. But I am still frozen. Holding my Punky. I can't hear, I can't feel, I can't breathe. I am gently restraining and holding him, out of habit from my own days as a veterinary technician. He is not calm. Ohhhhh..My poor baby.
The moment the very tip of the needle penetrated his skin he cried out. Not the same cry as when I'd clip his nails. This was different, and he barely had the strength for crying. He cried from deep within, barely making it to his lips, and he struggled to get his leg back. He struggled to get his legs under him and to rise. The vet said "I haven't poked you yet buddy!" And she tried again. But his struggling made her stop. She said "He doesn't like me holding his leg like this". This is not what I am thinking. Failing at the first leg, she went for the other front leg, grabbing it further out from him. He fought back and cried out longer, louder, higher-pitched, and sweeter this time......and I reacted with a Mommy's Instinct. Mommies the world over, of all species, from the beginning of time, know about this. "STOP!!" Wait! No! Nooooo!!!!" Ian said to me "Baby, no." and he leaned over to physically hold poor Punky down, with a good amount of effort. I cry out: "No!! He's not ready yet!! He's Scared!!! No!!! He's scared!!!" Any hopes of holding back tears during this procedure was completely plowed over by the deep, painful sobbing that overcame me at that moment. But despite my protests, the vet had found the vein and began injecting the toxin into him, with Ian forcing him down. I felt like our souls were being RAPED by Ian and this vet! I cried helplessly as it entered his vein and into his system; and he........he threw back his head and he opened his mouth in a brutal combination of a cry and a gasp. He cried and gasped several times quickly, each time pulling his head upwards and away from his leg in convulsions, mouth open and tense, eyes fixated, as if the pain were light-years beyond any comprehension. What was this????? Was it....He could feel the sudden fluid enter his fragile, dehydrated veins? Or..he could feel the toxin burn a destructive pathway?? Or..he could feel it shut down his breathing? Or..it was causing him the excruciating pain of a heart attack?? Or..His body and mind were fighting it?? This was exceeding my absolute worst nightmares! Despite my absolute horror, I put my head to his and cradled him, kissing him over and over, no doubt # his hair with my tears, rocking him, sobbing, telling him its ok. Its ok! Be brave!! Be Brave!!! My baby!!!!!!!!
He seemed to calm down and I thought this would be the end..... I was so pathetically, incompetantly, wrong.
He laid there with his eyes open. Were they cognizant?? Oh God I wish I knew. I wish I was looking at his face and not his chest as it continued to breathe. "Odd...." the vet said. I'm crying "He doesn't want to die! Can't we stop now!!! Ohh Stop!! He's still alive!"
I thought he wanted to die!!! Oh my God ###!!!!!!! I had believed whatever I wanted to believe!!! I misunderstood what he wanted!!!!!
As she filled her syringe again I cried "Why didn't you give him enough the first time!!?!!" to which she replied clinically "I gave him the proper amount for his body weight".
She went for a back leg. As I cried, I prayed that he wouldn't still cry at this poking. I think he jolted but he didn't cry out and struggle. I'm crying my eyes out hysterically, and my hands are still on him. She says "He's a tough little guy" and she says "You know, he senses that your upset too (so he's trying to live)" Hearing this was a big knife through my heart, and I cry more thinking I am betraying him. Ian says to me "Baby, close his eyes". I try, with a shaky hand, then the vet says "Their eyes don't close like ours do". She injects the full syringe into the vein of his back leg. I put my fingertips on his heart. Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Still beating. His breathing strong and sure. "He's a tough little guy!" she says. I detect panic in her voice. She can't believe it, I can't believe it, my dear Ian has actual tears in his eyes for the first and last time. "I gave him enough for four dogs his size!" she says! Still he lives on. "This is Awful! Oh, this is awful!!!!" I repeat in hysteria over and over.....
She fills the syringe for the third time, and then feels for the location of his heart. I wish at this point that she had done this from the beginning. Ian tried to pull my head away so I wouldn't see this. She finds his heart and enters the needle to the hilt. She drew out blood into the syringe first. A flourish of blood that was almost black, before she returned it and the full syringe of toxin directly into his heart. I could not look away. Though now I wish I was looking into his eyes instead to know how much he was feeling. I still had my fingertips on his heart as she injected. After the syringe was emptied, his dear sweet, strong, precious heart still beat strong. And he still breathed. He would not quit, God help us. The vet says "Well this is a first for me!" I was horrified by the fact that I knew she'd been practising for 18 years and she says this is the first time she's seen something like this. And I was mortified that she would run out of poison before he would give up. She had enough in her bottle for one more syringe-full and she put it into his heart. My hand had wandered to the other one cradling his sweet little head as she loaded the syringe. After the forth injection and just a few seconds of silence I asked "Did that do it?" and she said "Yes". I put my fingers to his little chest to feel no more heart beat and no more breathing. Dear God where are you!!! Dear Punky WHERE ARE YOU???? Oh my god! God damn it!! He wasn't ready to die. He didn't want to be TAKEN like that and we forced him! What have I done!??!!!??
I cannot believe that before she left the room with Ian, as I held Punky's warm, still body, I actually had the manners to thank the vet for coming out. What the ###!!!!
I heard them talking in the living room, and I assumed Ian was probably pullling out the checkbook. I didn't know and didn't care what this bitch was going to charge for her "services".
I held my dear baby's body a mere moment and then in the midst of my remorse, I strangely reminded myself that I desperately had to pee. I have been holding it for hours, not wanting to leave his side during his last hours. I got up and walked out of the bedroom, stretching in the hallway, yet completely in shock. 10 minutes later, well after I had returned to Punky's side, the vet long gone, and Ian sitting with me on the bed, Ian and I start having words with one another. And he says "Well you should pet him while he still has brain activity". I jump! WHAT!!!!!!!?? and cry all over again. His brain is still active and I left him!!! He said that although everything shuts down it still takes several minutes for the brain to die. I cry so hard now and pet him and kiss him and pet him. He is still so hot to the touch though his eyes are glazed over. How may more ways can I betray him tonight!??!! Ian tried to comfort me by saying that people do crazy things under duress, such as running away uncontrollably, so Punky understands if I had to step away for a moment. Maybe his spirit was still around and he saw me just simply leave the room!!!
I went into hysterics! I thrashed and kicked my legs and pulled at my hair at the thought of what we had just done, and said I wanted to die. I worked myself into madness. Eventually, after I exhausted myself, he left the room to begin digging Punky's grave. We decided earlier that day that he was home. No cremation, no pet cemetary. We would bury him in our yard. Ian felt it would not be healthy for me to hold onto him overnight, so he left to begin digging in our chosen spot. I was alone with the body of my boy. Even though I thought I wouldn't do this, I began to smell him. I absorbed the smells of his mouth, his precious ears, his black and white fur, and his sweet pink and black little feet. I spooned his body with me in that moment, and couldn't get him close enough to me. Tighter and tighter. I covered him completely, as if to protect him. I cried and cried and apologized. I lay with him like this for 45 minutes, while Ian was outside in the cold digging all the while. I finally raised myself up on the bed and looked at Punky's body. In morbid love, flexed all his legs and noticed that one leg was completely flexible, two legs were going stiff, and one leg had grown stiff beyond any normal bending. In horror, I noticed that the hind leg that received the injection had a huge hematoma. Either it was the poison or his blood that completely swelled his joint and showed dark purple through his skin. Either way, this incompetant vet had ripped his vein to ribbons trying to inject him with the poison. In sadness, I lifted his lips to see that his tongue and gums were grayish purple. Though we are taught that the newly deceased will usually defecate or urinate after they die due to lost muscle control, Punky had none of that. His poor, sweet, hard-working body had nothing to give.
I left his body and checked on Ian outside. He was digging and working up a sweat. After I felt he had dug deep and wide enough we returned to Punky's body inside. I didn't know how to lift him. I wanted to carry him like a baby, though Ian wanted to carry him like a corpse, wrapped in a blanket. I won, though I didn't know how to pick him up. He felt SO heavy without his life inside him. I carried him the best I could into his grave. We placed him directly onto the soft fragrant soil, and covered him with a thin white cloth. I know that parts of him were still warm. His chest, between his front legs...and we buried him handful by handful of soft soil, covering the white gauze. As each handful of dirt landed, it outlined his body through the fabric. I cried my apologies for doing this to him. We buried him lovingly and heartbreakingly handful by handful until he was completely covered. Only then did we use the shovel to fill in the rest of the hole. We patted the mound, and I told Ian that it was beautiful.
The rest is trying not to think about what his body - the body that I loved so much - looks like as it is decomposing, and trying to hold back from falling completely apart thinking about this entire experience. I knew if I could write about it here, sparing no details, that I could be purged and healed. If only all I had to do was mourn his passing and simply miss him. That is nothing compared to the burden I have to carry now. This botched euthanasia completely eclipses all normal mouring of his passing. It took FOUR injections, two of them straight into his dear heart, to kill my strong, proud, precious boy!!!!!
I beg and beg and beg his forgiveness and understanding. I love him so much, and both of us did what we did out of love and ignorance.
And that is all.
Whether you had the stomach to read this post or not, I love you all, and I thank you for helping me to get through this.
I am so unbelieveably sorry. From the very bottom of my heart and soul, I am so sorry. There are no words I can say except PLEASE know that Punky does not blame you for what happened and that you did nothing wrong. NOTHING! As horrible as that experience was, you did end his suffering and he is healthy and happy where he is now.
You will be in my prayers tonight.......I wish there was more I could do.
Kristie
You will be in my prayers tonight.......I wish there was more I could do.
Kristie
Oh, Dear God in Heaven, Punky's Momma. I am so very sorry you and Punky had to go through this. My heart is just breaking for you both. I do not understand it, but one thing I want to say right away is there is NO WAY IN THIS WORLD you could have known it would turn out this way! It is not your fault. I also know at this moment there is not much anyone can say that will help stop this pain right now. It will take TIME. You will in time come to know and realize that you took the best care of your Punky his whole life, you loved him as your own child, HIS WHOLE LIFE LONG. I know that you will think about this and you will think about this and it will drive you crazy if you let it. You will feel like you are going crazy, but you won't. I don't know if you know, but Hannah's euthanasia went really badly too -- she screamed and tried to jump out of my arms. I know your scream. I did it too -- NOOOOOOOOOOOOO, no you are hurting her -- maybe this isn't supposed to be!!!!!" Your heart ripped right out and you just wish it were you instead of your "child." I know.
Another important thing for you, I never heard and no one ever told me that their brains live on for a few minutes or anything like that. I do not believe that is so.
Punky's precious momma, you did not let Punky down, you did not betray him. I believe with all my heart from all that you've said that Punky was ready, Punky was tired. It's okay. You did NOT betray him. I do not know why in the world all of this happened. Have you talked to YOUR vet about it yet? This is something you probably will really want to do. He can or at least should be able to help you some. That is part of his job too! I am so sorry he did not come to be with you and Punky.
Also, he needs to be made aware of what did happen, I think.
We all have thought those thoughhts about those "little bodies that we loved so much." We have all had thoughts that we felt others might think were "morbid," but we DO have those thoughts. That is the way it is. It is okay.
You have nothing in this world to be forgiven for, sweetie. Nothing at all, I promise you. I KNOW you loved Punky. I KNOW you did what you did out of the unselfish love you had for your little Punky. You will know it again too one day. Punky will always live in your heart. The times ahead will be so difficult, there's just no way around it. It's a long, seemingly unbearable time in your life, but you will make it, and we will be here when you need to talk. We do understand and we care tremendously. I too am sorry from the bottom of my heart. I don't know why it had to happen that way. I just don't understand either. I just know it was not your fault, and I know Punky felt and saw and cherished all the love you gave him on that last day and in all the years of his life. Remember that. You and Punky were blessed to have each other.
Love and A VERY BIG HUG TO YOU!
Marcia
Another important thing for you, I never heard and no one ever told me that their brains live on for a few minutes or anything like that. I do not believe that is so.
Punky's precious momma, you did not let Punky down, you did not betray him. I believe with all my heart from all that you've said that Punky was ready, Punky was tired. It's okay. You did NOT betray him. I do not know why in the world all of this happened. Have you talked to YOUR vet about it yet? This is something you probably will really want to do. He can or at least should be able to help you some. That is part of his job too! I am so sorry he did not come to be with you and Punky.
Also, he needs to be made aware of what did happen, I think.
We all have thought those thoughhts about those "little bodies that we loved so much." We have all had thoughts that we felt others might think were "morbid," but we DO have those thoughts. That is the way it is. It is okay.
You have nothing in this world to be forgiven for, sweetie. Nothing at all, I promise you. I KNOW you loved Punky. I KNOW you did what you did out of the unselfish love you had for your little Punky. You will know it again too one day. Punky will always live in your heart. The times ahead will be so difficult, there's just no way around it. It's a long, seemingly unbearable time in your life, but you will make it, and we will be here when you need to talk. We do understand and we care tremendously. I too am sorry from the bottom of my heart. I don't know why it had to happen that way. I just don't understand either. I just know it was not your fault, and I know Punky felt and saw and cherished all the love you gave him on that last day and in all the years of his life. Remember that. You and Punky were blessed to have each other.
Love and A VERY BIG HUG TO YOU!
Marcia
I am so very sorry. What a horrible experience. You did what you felt was right for your baby. My heart goes out to you.
My experience with Seymour about 2 weeks ago wasn't the best either. The vet should have tranquilized Seymour first before we attempted to use the final drug. We did tranquilize him after the first attempt and than the procedure went as planned.
It should have been painless and quick-not what you had happen. It is hard enough when it is quick. But the agony you went through.
Be gentle with yourself. You did nothing wrong.
Punky now, however is at peace, healthy and whole. Maybe keeping that picture in your mind will help you a bit.
My experience with Seymour about 2 weeks ago wasn't the best either. The vet should have tranquilized Seymour first before we attempted to use the final drug. We did tranquilize him after the first attempt and than the procedure went as planned.
It should have been painless and quick-not what you had happen. It is hard enough when it is quick. But the agony you went through.
Be gentle with yourself. You did nothing wrong.
Punky now, however is at peace, healthy and whole. Maybe keeping that picture in your mind will help you a bit.
Oh my God! I am so very sorry. There are no words that can describe how bad I feel for you...and for Punky.
By no means did you betray Punky. I agree with Marcia when she said that Punky was ready. He was ready...he was tired, he was in pain, and he was ready to go. Try and let go of those awful images (I know, easier said than done) and think of Punky playing and running pain free and cancer free. The decision you made to set his spirit free was a decision you made out of love...Punky knows that. He knows how much you love him and that it was not your intention that his life end in such a traumatic way.
As far as the body that's buried in your yard...it's just his shell...the most important part of Punky, his spirit, is with you...watching you, following you, and loving you always.
You're in my thoughts.
Love,
Kathleen
By no means did you betray Punky. I agree with Marcia when she said that Punky was ready. He was ready...he was tired, he was in pain, and he was ready to go. Try and let go of those awful images (I know, easier said than done) and think of Punky playing and running pain free and cancer free. The decision you made to set his spirit free was a decision you made out of love...Punky knows that. He knows how much you love him and that it was not your intention that his life end in such a traumatic way.
As far as the body that's buried in your yard...it's just his shell...the most important part of Punky, his spirit, is with you...watching you, following you, and loving you always.
You're in my thoughts.
Love,
Kathleen
Dear Punkys Mommy, I am so very sorry for the horrible time this woman had putting little Punky to sleep. It had to be so traumatic for both you and for your precious baby. She must not have put the needle where it belonged and then it didn't do it's job.
When the vet put Chili Bean to sleep it was so quick. She fell asleep in my arms and less than a couple of minutes was gone. She did not fight, she did not cry just went to sleep and slipped from this world.
I am appalled that the women vet you had would be so crude about it. You did not need anymore pain. Your regular vet should have came to your house if he told you he would. I don't know how I could have stood it had Snookie not died on her own and something like that happened to us. I am so very sorry for your final act of love to have gone so wrong.
Love, Ann
When the vet put Chili Bean to sleep it was so quick. She fell asleep in my arms and less than a couple of minutes was gone. She did not fight, she did not cry just went to sleep and slipped from this world.
I am appalled that the women vet you had would be so crude about it. You did not need anymore pain. Your regular vet should have came to your house if he told you he would. I don't know how I could have stood it had Snookie not died on her own and something like that happened to us. I am so very sorry for your final act of love to have gone so wrong.
Love, Ann
I am so sorry that happened. Something the vet was doing was definatly wrong. That would have been a very heart wrenching ordeal to go through and my heart goes out to you.
I was with 3 of my precious cats when they had to be euthanized and each time was very fast. It was so fast that they had passed almost before the vet pulled the needle out of their arm. It almost seems like the vet either didn't get the vein, or the barbituate that was given wasn't strong enough.
I am truly sorry that it was such a horrifying experience. Know in your heart that punky is with you in spirit and is not in anymore pain.
I buried one of my cats and I also had terrible thoughts of him in the ground. I kept thinking he was cold and alone out in the backyard.
I actually went to the extreme of telling my boyfriend that if we move we have to exume tommy's body so he can go with us.
I was with 3 of my precious cats when they had to be euthanized and each time was very fast. It was so fast that they had passed almost before the vet pulled the needle out of their arm. It almost seems like the vet either didn't get the vein, or the barbituate that was given wasn't strong enough.
I am truly sorry that it was such a horrifying experience. Know in your heart that punky is with you in spirit and is not in anymore pain.
I buried one of my cats and I also had terrible thoughts of him in the ground. I kept thinking he was cold and alone out in the backyard.
I actually went to the extreme of telling my boyfriend that if we move we have to exume tommy's body so he can go with us.
Punky's Mom-I am so sorry for your loss of Punky and the awful experience of euthanizing Punky. That woman vet should have tranquilized Punky first and I, too, feel that your regular vet should be notified of how horribly wrong it all went. Punky is at the Bridge pain free, running, and playing with all his new friends but he is also missing someone that he loves very much. It helps me to visualize how healthy my precious furkitty, Fuzzball, is at the Bridge and that he's running and playing with all his new friend's. I miss him terribly!
My heart, thoughts and prayers goes out to you!
Love
Wanda
My heart, thoughts and prayers goes out to you!
Love
Wanda
Oh, I am SO, SO sorry that you and Punky had to go through that!
For many weeks (or months) we seem to remember the final moments, they seem to "haunt" us. This is such a TERRIBLE way to remember your last moments together. I just cried and cried as I read your story. Gosh, I don't know what I would have done! As I am reading from some of the replies, not everyone's furbaby got to experience a "quick" peaceful passing, like we are told. My Rachael jumped at the pain the needle produced too. The first injection didn't work right, but at least the vet explained to me why. She told me that since Rachael had stopped eating and drinking, she was dehydrated. That was causing her veins to collapse, which prevented the fluid from making it into her system. So, although it just ripped my heart apart to have to watch my loving Rachael endure another injection, at least I was informed of the reasons, so I still had confidence in my vet. Maybe that is why Punky wasn't getting the full dose too. However, this woman was NOT confident and made some TERRIBLE comments to you! She showed her own fear and doubts, and that should NEVER have happened.
I just KNEW I felt a bond to you....I used to be a veterinary technician too! I knew exactly what you meant when you described "holding off the vein" for the her during the injection. My vet gave Rachael her injections in her back legs. So, I was in the front of her, hugging her and holding her precious face next to mine. Otherwise, I may have been tempted to assist!
As you know, I am STILL dealing with the guilt and pain myself. I can't promise you that this will fade away and bring you peace any time soon, but I pray that it comes for you. I thought I had dealt with all my guilt, but it came back stronger than ever! There is just NO formula for getting through this. Everyone has to come to terms in their own way.
The one fact that I CAN reassure you about, is that you DID do a loving act for Punky. Even though those moments were just horrible for him, it was STILL a shorter amount of time to suffer than it would have been if he did not go through that. He was STILL spared much more pain and suffering past those moments. You did everything perfect for him! He had you close to him when he was fearing the procedure. He still felt all your love and knew that you were doing the best thing possible for him.
Punky is at peace now. It's now time for you to heal and find peace within yourself. Although I am still dealing with emotions concerning my loss, I can tell you that I no longer dwell on the final passing of my Rachael, and someday, I pray, you will reach that point too.
In my thoughts,
Cheri
For many weeks (or months) we seem to remember the final moments, they seem to "haunt" us. This is such a TERRIBLE way to remember your last moments together. I just cried and cried as I read your story. Gosh, I don't know what I would have done! As I am reading from some of the replies, not everyone's furbaby got to experience a "quick" peaceful passing, like we are told. My Rachael jumped at the pain the needle produced too. The first injection didn't work right, but at least the vet explained to me why. She told me that since Rachael had stopped eating and drinking, she was dehydrated. That was causing her veins to collapse, which prevented the fluid from making it into her system. So, although it just ripped my heart apart to have to watch my loving Rachael endure another injection, at least I was informed of the reasons, so I still had confidence in my vet. Maybe that is why Punky wasn't getting the full dose too. However, this woman was NOT confident and made some TERRIBLE comments to you! She showed her own fear and doubts, and that should NEVER have happened.
I just KNEW I felt a bond to you....I used to be a veterinary technician too! I knew exactly what you meant when you described "holding off the vein" for the her during the injection. My vet gave Rachael her injections in her back legs. So, I was in the front of her, hugging her and holding her precious face next to mine. Otherwise, I may have been tempted to assist!
As you know, I am STILL dealing with the guilt and pain myself. I can't promise you that this will fade away and bring you peace any time soon, but I pray that it comes for you. I thought I had dealt with all my guilt, but it came back stronger than ever! There is just NO formula for getting through this. Everyone has to come to terms in their own way.
The one fact that I CAN reassure you about, is that you DID do a loving act for Punky. Even though those moments were just horrible for him, it was STILL a shorter amount of time to suffer than it would have been if he did not go through that. He was STILL spared much more pain and suffering past those moments. You did everything perfect for him! He had you close to him when he was fearing the procedure. He still felt all your love and knew that you were doing the best thing possible for him.
Punky is at peace now. It's now time for you to heal and find peace within yourself. Although I am still dealing with emotions concerning my loss, I can tell you that I no longer dwell on the final passing of my Rachael, and someday, I pray, you will reach that point too.
In my thoughts,
Cheri
Oh my God! I can't believe that you had to experience such a horrible thing. I sit here sobbing at the thought of what you, punky and Ian had to go through. It's one thing to have to make such a decision for your little one, but another completely to have it go soooo horribly wrong!!! I was fortunate that the vet gave Dieter a tranquelizer and put an iv in his vein first so that it would go smoothly. I also have never heard of the brain being aware after the heart stops beating, so please don't torture yourself over this. I know that it's easier said than done.
I know in the beginning it is so very hard to get the vision of Punky's last moments out of your mind, but in time I promise this memory will be replaced with all the happy times you had with your boy. Be kind to yourself and cry and grieve for Punky, all the tears you shed are healing tears and you really have to make your way through it, and I won't lie to you and say its easy, it does take time. He was your little boy and I know how much you miss him. You were a wonderful Mommy and did absolutely everything to get him well, it was just his time, like one day it will be our time too. I don't know if I'm making any sense. Just know I'm thinking of you and Ian.
Libby
I know in the beginning it is so very hard to get the vision of Punky's last moments out of your mind, but in time I promise this memory will be replaced with all the happy times you had with your boy. Be kind to yourself and cry and grieve for Punky, all the tears you shed are healing tears and you really have to make your way through it, and I won't lie to you and say its easy, it does take time. He was your little boy and I know how much you miss him. You were a wonderful Mommy and did absolutely everything to get him well, it was just his time, like one day it will be our time too. I don't know if I'm making any sense. Just know I'm thinking of you and Ian.
Libby
Dear Punky's Momma,
I am so very sorry you, Ian and Punky had to go through that horrifying experience. As the others have said, it is NOT YOUR FAULT. How were you to know that the vet would do everything wrong? (When you get your thoughts straight, you should not hesitate to talk things over with your regular vet so he is aware of just what you went through.)
I believe when you had your talks with Punky, he was telling you that it was his time and that he was very tired. Each time you spoke with him, he was able to sleep and rest peacefully. You did the right thing because you loved Punky so much. My heart goes out to you. I will say a special prayer for you tonight and for everyone here at LS.
(Kimberly - I told my husband that if we move, we have to take Rusty with us. I cannot stand the thought of him out there in the backyard instead of in his nice warm house. I, however am going to try to convince myself of what Kathleen said about the body in the backyard being just a shell and that his spirit remains with us. Sometimes, I feel I am going crazy.)
Love,
Lynn
I am so very sorry you, Ian and Punky had to go through that horrifying experience. As the others have said, it is NOT YOUR FAULT. How were you to know that the vet would do everything wrong? (When you get your thoughts straight, you should not hesitate to talk things over with your regular vet so he is aware of just what you went through.)
I believe when you had your talks with Punky, he was telling you that it was his time and that he was very tired. Each time you spoke with him, he was able to sleep and rest peacefully. You did the right thing because you loved Punky so much. My heart goes out to you. I will say a special prayer for you tonight and for everyone here at LS.
(Kimberly - I told my husband that if we move, we have to take Rusty with us. I cannot stand the thought of him out there in the backyard instead of in his nice warm house. I, however am going to try to convince myself of what Kathleen said about the body in the backyard being just a shell and that his spirit remains with us. Sometimes, I feel I am going crazy.)
Love,
Lynn
Punky's Mommy,
I agree with Ann and Kimberley - that vet was so awful! I am so sorry you had that experience, the whole thing was so horrible. I don't know if It helps, but my cat had a not-so-peaceful euthanasia recently, and your post has helped me. I was suprised when I posted about Whiskers, how many emails I got about similar and even worse euthanasias gone wrong - and usually the vets fault. You are not alone.
I don't think Punky changed her mind at that moment - I think the vet made a dreadful mistake. Remember in your post how you said how relieved she was, how she just flopped to the ground and finally slept when you told her - when she told you - she did want to go. After Whiskers passed on, I wondered if I had done the wrong thing...but now I know she was telling me, "I just don't want to go on." Someone else posted somewhere on here (and I'm sorry my memory doesn't serve me well to give proper credit to that individual) that we give the ultimate gift when we let our loved ones free from their pain - and take it on ourselves.
This was not your fault! Punky knows it too. Words can not express proper sympathy in this situation - I was crying when I read this, I can't imagine the pain...thank you for being so brave to share this.
Kat
I agree with Ann and Kimberley - that vet was so awful! I am so sorry you had that experience, the whole thing was so horrible. I don't know if It helps, but my cat had a not-so-peaceful euthanasia recently, and your post has helped me. I was suprised when I posted about Whiskers, how many emails I got about similar and even worse euthanasias gone wrong - and usually the vets fault. You are not alone.
I don't think Punky changed her mind at that moment - I think the vet made a dreadful mistake. Remember in your post how you said how relieved she was, how she just flopped to the ground and finally slept when you told her - when she told you - she did want to go. After Whiskers passed on, I wondered if I had done the wrong thing...but now I know she was telling me, "I just don't want to go on." Someone else posted somewhere on here (and I'm sorry my memory doesn't serve me well to give proper credit to that individual) that we give the ultimate gift when we let our loved ones free from their pain - and take it on ourselves.
This was not your fault! Punky knows it too. Words can not express proper sympathy in this situation - I was crying when I read this, I can't imagine the pain...thank you for being so brave to share this.
Kat
Thank you to everyone who was brave enough to read this post and to offer words of comfort. You all helped me in the very beginning when I first joined and when I was about to tear myself apart for not taking Punky to New York sooner for gene therapy, before the cancer had spread and he might have responded to the treatment. You all rescued me then, and you have rescued me again from bitter self-hatred by assuring me that I did nothing wrong when it came to Punky's end. I couldn't believe it took me 5 hours to write his story. I literally disappeared from the regular world during that time. It was as if I had stepped into a cave and emerged some time later, blinking and wondering what sunshine was all about. I needed to put myself through that so hopefully I won't need to ever again. I became ill after posting, and am only now feeling better, having finally gotten a normal night's sleep last night. I finally feel well enough to write again.
Things did not go smoothly between me and Ian in the days following Punky's euthanasia. I was so angry at the vet, I wanted to sue her, I wanted to OWN her. In the midst of Ian's support and comfort, it occured to me that if I am this mad at the vet, I should be this mad at Ian too! I said No and Stop yet he forced the situation all the way to its conclusion despite my begging and crying. We had a couple throw-down where I screamed at him "No means NO!! Stop means STOP!! You HELD him down!!!! You FORCED him when he wasn't ready!!!"" He was infuriated at me and fought back hard. He said that I was falling apart and he didn't think I was going to be strong enough to go through with it! He said if I need to blame somebody I should blame myself. I had never discussed with him a contingency plan if things went wrong. I didn't make sure Punky was hydrated enough for the euthanasia to work. And I was hysterical, probably scaring Punky even more! Round and round we went like that....
So this past Monday I saw a counselor for the first time and we talked about this conflict. She's a dog person, thank dog. I mean..thank god! LOL She explained to me that we both did what we did out of love and ignorance. Ian did what men do - they see a problem and try to fix it and take it to its goal. He felt it was kinder than delaying the euthanasia any longer. Since that meeting, I've been working hard to strike from the record that Ian was the villian in this situation. One thing the counselor said to me I think is crazy. She said that maybe Punky chose to die violently to teach us a lesson about our relationship and to give us a point to work from. After a pause I told her I needed to think about that one, but how I feel about that is "Oh please!" Sure there are lessons to be learned in anything if you want to, but to tell me that perhaps Punky was in control of that whole scene, and he did it deliberately to reveal to us the underlying problems of our relationship....that's just offensive and patronizing. She should be honest and admit that she's just trying to mitigate what happened and she's trying to get me to pull some good from it.
I've been trying to use logic and scientific reasoning to help understand what had happened, because I am a confused combination of an artistic, creative person with a good amount of scientific training. Have any of you seen the move The Messenger? The story of Joan of Arc made around 1999? In the end it was revealed to her that everything was in her own head. I wonder if that was what happened to me. Maybe when Punky finally laid down to rest easy it was because the pill finally kicked in, and not because of my "telepathic" communication with him. Though the night before he got 2 1/2 pills between 8pm and 4am and nothing settled him down for more than 10 minutes. Then again, I gave those in 1/2 pill dosages, whereas that afternoon I gave him one whole pill. And maybe when he woke up and got restless just before the vet arrived, its because the pill wore off, and not because he sensed the time was near. When it seemed that he was scrambling into my lap closer and closer, maybe it wasn't nervousness. Maybe this was just his normal restlessness and it was ME pulling him to me. If I wasn't there, he'd have fallen off the bed. Maybe he cried at the needle simply because he doesn't want to be poked with it and nothing more. Maybe he didn't have any knowledge or fear of impending death. When he gasped and threw his head back at the first injection, maybe this was only an involuntary reaction as he slipped into unconsciousness? Not a display of excruciating pain. But then if its a physiological response, why don't more or all dogs do this? And if it was affecting his brain that quickly, it was obviously moving through his system, so why didn't it end his life? It's true that if he was dehydrated and his heart was not pumping normally, the stuff would not cycle through his system very quickly. I have no doubt he was dehydrated. He was not drinking on his own, and I had to feed him several doses of water through a syringe (of course without the needle you guys!). I feel horrible that I didn't make him drink water in this way every hour - or at least more than the one time that day - to help rehydrate him. At the time, I thought his peace and quiet were more important than forcing him through that. So no doubt he was dehydrated, and I knew he had a heart murmur. The second shot in his hind leg caused a hematoma, which meansif the hematoma wasn't just subcutaneous bleeding, its possible that some or all of the injection went under his skin and not in his vein. But even still, one good shot in the arm, and a shot straight into the heart should work, dehydrated or not, and it didn't. He had gotten enough to kill a bull mastiff, maybe even a farm animal. So was he actually fighting to stay alive? Did I aggravate the situation by my bawling? He was deaf and blind but he could probably smell my fear and hysteria and could feel my body movements. Is it possible to overcome through sheer force of will a poison designed to shut down your heart and breathing???? Or was it faulty chemical and/or operator error? I honestly don't know which of these two options I prefer to be the truth. I was almost sad when the fourth injection finally did it. I didn't even feel him leave, like I thought I would. It was anti-climatic. But there I go again trying to create spiritual significance. One small little tiny part of me hoped that he would survive it and prove the Whole Entire World wrong. Maybe if anyone could do that, he could.
I don't know if its healthy to roll these questions around and around in my head like this. But hey, welcome to my head!
Things did not go smoothly between me and Ian in the days following Punky's euthanasia. I was so angry at the vet, I wanted to sue her, I wanted to OWN her. In the midst of Ian's support and comfort, it occured to me that if I am this mad at the vet, I should be this mad at Ian too! I said No and Stop yet he forced the situation all the way to its conclusion despite my begging and crying. We had a couple throw-down where I screamed at him "No means NO!! Stop means STOP!! You HELD him down!!!! You FORCED him when he wasn't ready!!!"" He was infuriated at me and fought back hard. He said that I was falling apart and he didn't think I was going to be strong enough to go through with it! He said if I need to blame somebody I should blame myself. I had never discussed with him a contingency plan if things went wrong. I didn't make sure Punky was hydrated enough for the euthanasia to work. And I was hysterical, probably scaring Punky even more! Round and round we went like that....
So this past Monday I saw a counselor for the first time and we talked about this conflict. She's a dog person, thank dog. I mean..thank god! LOL She explained to me that we both did what we did out of love and ignorance. Ian did what men do - they see a problem and try to fix it and take it to its goal. He felt it was kinder than delaying the euthanasia any longer. Since that meeting, I've been working hard to strike from the record that Ian was the villian in this situation. One thing the counselor said to me I think is crazy. She said that maybe Punky chose to die violently to teach us a lesson about our relationship and to give us a point to work from. After a pause I told her I needed to think about that one, but how I feel about that is "Oh please!" Sure there are lessons to be learned in anything if you want to, but to tell me that perhaps Punky was in control of that whole scene, and he did it deliberately to reveal to us the underlying problems of our relationship....that's just offensive and patronizing. She should be honest and admit that she's just trying to mitigate what happened and she's trying to get me to pull some good from it.
I've been trying to use logic and scientific reasoning to help understand what had happened, because I am a confused combination of an artistic, creative person with a good amount of scientific training. Have any of you seen the move The Messenger? The story of Joan of Arc made around 1999? In the end it was revealed to her that everything was in her own head. I wonder if that was what happened to me. Maybe when Punky finally laid down to rest easy it was because the pill finally kicked in, and not because of my "telepathic" communication with him. Though the night before he got 2 1/2 pills between 8pm and 4am and nothing settled him down for more than 10 minutes. Then again, I gave those in 1/2 pill dosages, whereas that afternoon I gave him one whole pill. And maybe when he woke up and got restless just before the vet arrived, its because the pill wore off, and not because he sensed the time was near. When it seemed that he was scrambling into my lap closer and closer, maybe it wasn't nervousness. Maybe this was just his normal restlessness and it was ME pulling him to me. If I wasn't there, he'd have fallen off the bed. Maybe he cried at the needle simply because he doesn't want to be poked with it and nothing more. Maybe he didn't have any knowledge or fear of impending death. When he gasped and threw his head back at the first injection, maybe this was only an involuntary reaction as he slipped into unconsciousness? Not a display of excruciating pain. But then if its a physiological response, why don't more or all dogs do this? And if it was affecting his brain that quickly, it was obviously moving through his system, so why didn't it end his life? It's true that if he was dehydrated and his heart was not pumping normally, the stuff would not cycle through his system very quickly. I have no doubt he was dehydrated. He was not drinking on his own, and I had to feed him several doses of water through a syringe (of course without the needle you guys!). I feel horrible that I didn't make him drink water in this way every hour - or at least more than the one time that day - to help rehydrate him. At the time, I thought his peace and quiet were more important than forcing him through that. So no doubt he was dehydrated, and I knew he had a heart murmur. The second shot in his hind leg caused a hematoma, which meansif the hematoma wasn't just subcutaneous bleeding, its possible that some or all of the injection went under his skin and not in his vein. But even still, one good shot in the arm, and a shot straight into the heart should work, dehydrated or not, and it didn't. He had gotten enough to kill a bull mastiff, maybe even a farm animal. So was he actually fighting to stay alive? Did I aggravate the situation by my bawling? He was deaf and blind but he could probably smell my fear and hysteria and could feel my body movements. Is it possible to overcome through sheer force of will a poison designed to shut down your heart and breathing???? Or was it faulty chemical and/or operator error? I honestly don't know which of these two options I prefer to be the truth. I was almost sad when the fourth injection finally did it. I didn't even feel him leave, like I thought I would. It was anti-climatic. But there I go again trying to create spiritual significance. One small little tiny part of me hoped that he would survive it and prove the Whole Entire World wrong. Maybe if anyone could do that, he could.
I don't know if its healthy to roll these questions around and around in my head like this. But hey, welcome to my head!
I've been thinking about you so much today. I can't imagine the emotional struggle you are feeling about this experience and loss of Punky. I am just soooo very sorry. It's hard enough to make the decision to euthanise, but a whole other for Punky, you and Ian to experience what happened. All of your questioning is very normal, and part of the many stages of the grief process. If you have not read some of the articles at the beginning of this forum, there are some that really helped me understand what and why I was feeling certain things.
Please give yourself time and take care of you. All I did for approximately a week was cry and drink water so I wouldn't end up in the hospital. I couldn't eat food, work, or really even communicate. My whole world fell apart and I'm still picking up the pieces. I know all you want in the world is to have Punky there with you....I so know what that feels like. Please keep writing, we will listen, offer advice (even though you might not want it) and just be here for you.
Hang in there
Libby
Please give yourself time and take care of you. All I did for approximately a week was cry and drink water so I wouldn't end up in the hospital. I couldn't eat food, work, or really even communicate. My whole world fell apart and I'm still picking up the pieces. I know all you want in the world is to have Punky there with you....I so know what that feels like. Please keep writing, we will listen, offer advice (even though you might not want it) and just be here for you.
Hang in there
Libby
I've given honest opinions before...here's another one. I tend to think that the vet administering the euthanasia was simply incompetent. When we had to have Misty euthanised, our vet went into detail about the reactions we might see. They included most of what Punky experienced, with the exception of the heart not stopping. Fortunately, Misty passed quickly and quietly, with a brief sigh being her only physical reaction. Sounds like the vet a) definitely had difficulty administering the injection, and 
possibly didn't mix correctly.
And the counselor suggesting that Punky "chose" to die violently...well the nicest word I could use to describe that notion is bu**s**t.
Still thinking of you,
possibly didn't mix correctly.And the counselor suggesting that Punky "chose" to die violently...well the nicest word I could use to describe that notion is bu**s**t.
Still thinking of you,
Punky's Mom, something made me read this tonight before signing off for the night. Words cannot possibly express the horror I feel at what you went through DUE TO NO FAULT OF YOUR OWN!! You were doing what you felt was best. I agree that the vet you had was not only incompetent but not nearly as considerate as she should have been. Please PLEASE talk to your regular vet because he needs to know what you went through with her. I can only say that I truly wish I could take that memory from you.
Thank you for sharing this. I guess I've been blessed to have wonderful vets and vet techs when the time came. We even got a condolence card yesterday from the vet and the tech at the emergency clinic we took Sonnie to on Saturday.
Thank you for sharing this. I guess I've been blessed to have wonderful vets and vet techs when the time came. We even got a condolence card yesterday from the vet and the tech at the emergency clinic we took Sonnie to on Saturday.
Punky's Mom,
Please don't ever forget that YOU were the one who knew and loved Punky and YOU were the one who knew when Punky couldn't go on fighting any longer. It takes a great deal of selfless love to not only recognize that your companion is ready, but then act on it. We all want our much-loved pets to be with us for just a little longer. We all want to hope that they're suffering just a temporary setback. That you put Punky's interests above your own very natural and understandable desires shows how much love and loyalty you have for Punky. Although Punky's passing wasn't as peaceful as one would wish, don't let those fleeting moments blot out your knowlege that you acted with great love and self-sacrifice to assure Punky would suffer no longer. And don't forget that Punky was with you in his (her?) last moments, which was, most assuredly, an enormous comfort to Punky.
With sympathy,
Margie
P.S. That vet sounds like a total idiot. Do talk to your regular vet about what happened. I'm so sorry for your loss and for the way it happened.
Please don't ever forget that YOU were the one who knew and loved Punky and YOU were the one who knew when Punky couldn't go on fighting any longer. It takes a great deal of selfless love to not only recognize that your companion is ready, but then act on it. We all want our much-loved pets to be with us for just a little longer. We all want to hope that they're suffering just a temporary setback. That you put Punky's interests above your own very natural and understandable desires shows how much love and loyalty you have for Punky. Although Punky's passing wasn't as peaceful as one would wish, don't let those fleeting moments blot out your knowlege that you acted with great love and self-sacrifice to assure Punky would suffer no longer. And don't forget that Punky was with you in his (her?) last moments, which was, most assuredly, an enormous comfort to Punky.
With sympathy,
Margie
P.S. That vet sounds like a total idiot. Do talk to your regular vet about what happened. I'm so sorry for your loss and for the way it happened.
Oh God. I am so sorry. PLEASE don't blame yourself. The proceedure is usually NOT like that. I had my 12-year-old German Shepherd euthanized in 1995. He had bone cancer. He went quickly and peacefully in my arms.
What the he** did Punky's vet do wrong????
My deepest sympathy.
What the he** did Punky's vet do wrong????
My deepest sympathy.
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