Making peace with a difficult decision

Hello friends,

As I write this, I'm thinking that it's nearly a month since my dear Buttons passed away. I didn't know this would be so hard - I can still imagine the feel of his lovely fur as I touched him. After the initial shock wears off, the pain of the loss is more acutely felt, at least for me. This is when real sadness and the hard work of healing begins. It's easy to get upset. I caught a sideways glance at Dixie's eyes. I was very startled. For a second, they looked just like Buttons' eyes did. Just this morning, she also wheeked JUST like Buttons. It stopped me right in my tracks.

About a week and a half ago, one day when I had a few too many personal concerns troubling me, I missed Buttons even more so. That particular day, strangely enough, I received a card in the mail. I opened the envelope, and with shaking hands held a handwritten note of sympathy from the vet who had first treated Buttons. I began to read. She had written that Buttons was obviously well-loved, and assured me that my decision was both right and humane. You see, I had Buttons put to sleep. Enclosed with her note was a full page entitled "Living With The Loss Of Your Pet - some thoughts on grieving". It invited one to feel free to discuss feelings with any of the doctors or staff. "We are all compassionate pet owners ourselves...etc." It discussed how the grieving process, when it concerns a pet, is often complicated by the necessity of euthanasia.

My point in writing this is not to open the discussion on euthanasia, whether pro or con, but rather to illustrate how much this thoughtful and compassionate vet helped me to make peace with my decision.

A couple of days after I received her note, I contacted the vet's office to go over a few things that had been bothering me a great deal. The receptionist got Buttons' file for the vet to review, then I spoke with the vet for a good 20 minutes. When Buttons was first examined, I decided on a trial of antibiotics for him. At that time, the vet suggested that the blood tests and x-rays may only confirm a very grave situation, and one must be prepared for the results. There was no change in the 3 days of trial treatment. His belly had started to swell (a suspected tumor), and he was in increasing pain.

I felt somewhat uncertain when I rushed him back on that Friday, as the vet he had first seen was not available. I was assured that her colleague was indeed very knowledgeable with guinea pigs. She indicated that something was seriously wrong, and I decided I didn't want him to endure any more. When I described in detail to the first vet during our phone conversation, how Buttons had deteriorated in the 3 days, I needed to hear that I had made the right decision.

It really hit home to read about how Melina lost her Mega, as there were some similarities with Buttons. I suppose that's why I decided to write about it now.

It frightened me that it might have been something minor with Buttons, and that I had made a mistake. The vet assured me that I did save Buttons from suffering. She felt that he would have died very soon, as she suspected a tumor. I also needed to hear that he went peacefully, and she also assured me that he did. Apparently, the assistant owned guinea pigs, and he was given lots of gentle strokes & petting at the end.

I hope this isn't too gruesome to read. I don't mean it to be. I needed to write this for the healing process. It's really difficult to describe all the events, details, and discussions accurately. For me, though, it helped immeasurably to talk things over with the vet. At last, I feel a sense of peace.

Sherri