September 28, 2002
9:49 p.m.

This guy looked at me today, and asked me how I do it. How I can put animals to sleep and still go about my day. He said he was amazed by my strength.

This got me thinking though, how do I do it? Today, I held a twelve year old dog, out behind our barn where no clients could see, and watched at Dr. Fuller administered the euthanasia solution. I held this dog as her tail stopped wagging, and she became limp in my arms. I placed her head on the ground, and gave her a final pat. I put her in a bag, placed her in the freezer, and went up to the clinic and ate a doughnut.

Now, I sit here and wonder, how could it be that easy? I held a dog in his final moments, I was the last thing that that dog felt, I was the last voice that he heard. I was there at one of life's most tragic, yet, somehow amazing moments, and I did it with professionalism. Can a moment like that ever be professional? I never really let myself think this deeply about it.

There are very few times I have ever regretted holding an animal in it's final moments, and those times are often when I felt the euthanasia was unfair, and unjust. Would I ever walk away, and not hold an animal, even when my heart is breaking? No. Not when I can be there to say those soothing last words, not when I can quiet the panic in their eyes, not when I can give them that last reassuring squeeze, and say 'You were a good boy.' As hard as it is for me to help put an animal down, somehow, I think it would be harder not to. Then, I wouldn't know that the animal got that last little "thank you for being a loyal friend."

So, how do I do it? I don't know, I honestly don't know. Maybe someone is giving me that extra strength, so that I can be there to help an animal pass on. Maybe it's my Cracker up there, helping me have the courage to do what I do as a way of thanking me for having the courage to let him go.

Today, I let three animals go. One, a dog we have worked on for a month, a dog I became close to. She fought, and that killed me. Most animals literally just go to sleep. No struggles, just a peaceful slip into a dream they won't wake up from. Not this little dog, she screamed, like a child screaming in fear, and I help her still, my eyes closed, begging her to just take the last breath, to not fight it. As if she heard me, the scream stopped, and she took her last breath, and died, cradled in my arms, wrapped in my heart.

So, how do it I do it? I guess that's a question that I will never be able to answer.



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