Sometimes work really sucks.

I've been working in a vet clinic for almost 5 years now, and I've seen my fair share of heart breaking losses, but yesterday was hands down the most heart wrenching day I have ever had to work.

Over the years I have come to know and care for a great number of pets and their owners, and many times I've cried alongside these owners as they made the difficult decision to let their beloved animals go, but yesterday was the first day I actually sobbed so hard that I had a hard time catching my breath.

It's been a bit of an odd week with emergency after emergency coming through the door, but up until yesterday all of the emergencies managed to pull through ok.

The first sad loss was that of our clinic cat Merlin. Merlin was actually brought into our clinic two years ago to be euthanized but the vet refused to put her down as her condition (hyperthyroidism) was treatable and instead of euthanizing her, we ended up adopting her. She wasn't the healthiest cat in the world and in addition to her thyroid problem deveoped heart problems, respiratory problems, food allergies, and arthritis. All of her problems though were managed well by the handful of pills she took each day and she seemed quite happy living at the clinic

Unlike our prvious clinic cat, Merlin was super affectionate and would happily run to greet every person who walked through the door. She loved people so much that she would gently bat you in the face with her paw until you gave her some attention. As annoying as this could be when you were trying to get some work done, it was pretty hard to resist her sweet little face.

Last week we thought she looked a bit lumpy on one side and an ultrasound revealed she had a large mass in her abdomen. It didn't look cancerous, it didn't seem to be growing fast or bothering her much, and she was still her loving little self so we weren't too worried.....yet. We were still trying to decide if her heart could handle surgery to remove it when things took a turn for the worse. Wednesday morning she was sitting in her usual place on my desk when she got all spacey and started drooling heavily. I put her on the floor thinking she was going to be sick and then watched in horror as she had a grand mal seizure. Over the next 24 hours she had three more seizures, each one worse than the one before it. With all her other health problems we didn't think her heart was going to survive another seizure like that, and we made the difficult decision to let her go. We decided to wait until the end of the day since we didn't think any of us would be able to go back to work afterwards.

Near the end of the day though, before we had a chance to even do anything, the second tragedy struck. We got a very upsetting phone call from animal control, that a truck had rolled off the pier and had fallen into the ocean and a man and his dog had been trapped inside. The man had gotten out ok but they didn't think the dog had made it as he had been sumbmerged under 15 feet of water for quite some time. The owner was frantic though and so they were on their way up with him.

The girl from animal control arrived first and I ran out to help her. As we carried the dog into the clinic I had this sinking feeling in my stomach as I was pretty sure I knew the dog, and that I knew him well. As we lifted him onto the exam table I turned around in time to see his owner rush in, dripping wet with tears streaming down his face. The tears started welling up in my own eyes as I realized this was indeed the dog I had been dreading it was. His owner was a good client of ours, the friendliest happiest man you've ever met, and his dog was his only family.

The RCMP officers who had brought him upto the clinic filled us in on what had happened. When the truck started rolling into the ocean the driver's side door had been ajar but the man's foot had been trapped and he had not been able to get out. A passerby immediately jumped in after him and managed to free it and they both swam to safety. Unfortunately his dog Russel had been trapped in his kennel in the back and so he had not been able to get out. It was nealry two hours before a diver was able to go down and get him out.

By this point none of us could hold back the tears. We were extremely relieved that our client had survived the accident, but we were devastated that Russel had not made it. Even the people who were in waiting room buying food who could not help but overhear, were getting a bit teary.

It was almost 6:30 by the time Russel's greif stricken dad had been picked up by a friend and all the RCMP and Animal Control officers had left. Without much time to recover from the shock and the loss of Russel, it was time to close up the clinic and say goodbye to Merlin. Were were already crying, there was no sense in prolonging the inevitable.

The vet gave her some heavy sedation and I held her for one last cuddle as Rosalie locked the front door. Then I held her little paw and my vision blurred as the vet gave her the injection. We were all crying so hard, I swear the three of us went through an entire box of kleenex. By the time I got home I was sobbing. I felt so terrible for Russel and his dad, and I couldn't believe Merlin and Russel were both gone.

Today at work was quite difficult. Not only did I miss having her sit on the desk next to me, but I had to break the news to people when they asked "Where's Merlin today" or "Where's the friendly little cat who's always sitting on your desk". Everyone misses her as much as we do.

My sister doesn't understand how people can have pets and endure the pain of losing them one day, but I don't understand how people can live without them. In my mind the joy they bring to us when they are with us far outweighs the pain of losing them, and as much as it hurts to say goodbye, I think they are worth the tears.