What Your Pet Wants For Christmas

In the heart of Macy's department store for the month of December rests a large red Santa's mailbox. It is nestled between the racks of clothes, flanked by flocked evergreen trees, and it is always easy to find as it is the center of the crowd in the middle of the first floor. I visit it each year as a reminder of how magical this time of year is to the little kids in all of us. The front mail door swings open with its traditional metal hinge melody so often it sounds like part of the caroling. Children, of every size, from every corner of the world, congregate here to mail their present list to Santa. Although I have never slipped an envelope into its red belly, I stop and watch as the other kids do. For each time that door is pulled open and the mouth of the North Pole is summoned to answer a request, I wish for that kid to know that the magic is always here. Not in a store, but in the hope of a wish put to paper. The feeling of anticipation that whatever you ask for might be provided. If you take pause, and allow yourself to be the witness to another's joyful excitement you will quickly be reminded about how sweet the gesture of writing a list and sending it to make-believe-land is. You can stand as an onlooker to this little spot of letters, wishes, dreams, and love and just lose the rest of the bustling patrons elbowing by. I always wonder what those letters hold. How many are asking for a toy, a doll, a childhood keepsake to mark the year in the timeline of a life that grows up. How many are for such basic wishes that no child should ever have to ask for. Food, clothing, a home to feel safe in. How many hold wishes like mine always did; a pony, a puppy, a bunny. Something alive for me to cuddle and keep safe. Some little life to love and be needed for.

How do you do a thoracocentesis?
One of our rescue kittens getting treated by my team.
Giggles are always on the schedule.

These days my life revolves around the little lives my home calls its heart. I have 5 cats, and two dogs, and I will admit with 100% honesty that I spend every day asking myself if I have fulfilled all of the items that they would have penned in their letter to Santa. They always have the basic needs of a cat or dog at their toes. The basic is food and water, a warm place to sleep every night, but the wishes meant for Santa's ears, they are the items that I ask myself if I am providing.

So I thought that this year I will share what I think my pets would ask for, should Santa remind them that their Nice days outnumber the Naughty.

Wren is the cat I call my beloved. She is the first one I go looking for at bedtime if she isn't already purring at the top of my pillow. She is aging, and less finicky. Less likely to call out in alarm when she hasn't gotten her way. She lets the kittens plow past her and grumps with the expiration of an old soul who hasn't got time for shenanigans anymore. She is wise, adored and Queen. She bows to no one, and puts up with even less. This year we got her a heating mat that has 10 settings, (she prefers 3), and we set it for 12 hours. She also likes her water changed daily. We keep a glass by the bed, and she prefers options even in this. It is more likely that she will drink from my overnight water glass, a tiptoe at a time to scoop it from the glass to her tongue. Even in this we share everything. (I know not to drink past bedtime). She prefers fresh plants in winter. It's too cold to go out for a green nibble. Reminding the housekeeping staff to bow to her as they pass. 

Wren

She has a window sill of her own. Packed with a bed and blankets. A perch to see the sunrise, and then set, and monitor the critters of her kingdom. For cats, every single one of them, this perception that they are the apex predator, the indisputable badass of their kingdom, is paramount. Every cat needs to feel they are free to make choices. Free to have opinions, and able to execute commands at whim. Finding your place in your own home when you are their servant is the key to an equitable, honest, and amicable life. Your cat always needs to feel that they are in charge, and this will not be threatened. It is part of the reason that there is a critical mass threshold for multi-cat homes. That one extra cat too many that tilts the apple cart and leads to marking territory, cat fights, and stress in the multi-cat home. She is the constant comfort for all of my days. The one who purrs when she sees me. Takes delight in me just being near. She is the epitome of why we all sacrifice so much for the pets we call family. 

Birdie

My two rabies quarantine kittens; Raffles (short for the state bird of Pennsylvania; the Ruffed Grouse), and Birdie, (the state bird of New York; the Eastern Bluebird), are wild, crazy, pure kitten energy rambunctious. These days my husband is retired. The two kittens follow him like ducklings, always underfoot. They grew up with the puppies, Frippie and Storm, and seemed to imprint on them as much as us humans, so they follow the dogs in and out for the am pee and the before bed bathroom. Unlike the dogs who stay wherever we are, they decide if it's time to come, or go, and beckon their wishes with long drawn out meows fit for drama soap operas of the B-rated variety. My husband stands near the door and opens it slowly for the kittens to come and go, based on which side of the door they scream from. He will stand their like a doorman and say, "I do this all day," with a prideful subservience only a parent could admit to. Their new favorite fancy is feathers. My dear friend Kim gave us a handful of her peacocks plumage and they have systematically disemboweled each frond. The confetti of a killer spread across the living room floor. Life for a kitten is easier, as long as it is quiet, safe and has ample food. They make the simplest things fun. You just need to remember their energy threshold requires they come in pairs.

Raffles

The dogs; Fripp and Storm. Two peas in the pod who could not exist without each other, even though they are so different. There is a firm two dog rule in this house. Two dogs to keep each other company. Two to play so hard during the day that they sleep well enough through the night, so their already exhausted mom can go to sleep as soon as she gets home from work. This couldn't work if they didn't have each other. Their Christmas list to Santa would very likely include a wish for the other. They are this couple. They would only ask for more time. More time together to go on long walks. Walks where they lead and decide which trail to follow. Time to find that ever elusive squirrel and finally make peace with the pursuit. More steak dinners. Fewer vacations for their parents that involve planes or trains. The kind of vacations we take with cars allow them to go, therefore they prefer these. They are family and they expect every family vacation will include them. They are greeted every morning by a whisper of a "hello" that allows them to jump on the bed and curl up on our pillows. They insist that bedtime follow the same principles. Every day begins and ends with a bed in the bedroom and a wish for a peaceful night of dreaming about the adventures of tomorrow. These house fellows of ours never want for more than time together. It is the most sincere wish for Santa anyone of us could ever desire.

Storm and Frippie

Here's to wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a holiday season where all of your time is loved and treasured with the family you call yours.

Pets With Santa 2023

If you need some hints on what your pet might want this Christmas, think about these;

- a place to call home. So many pets die in shelters, and so many others still live in horrific conditions breeding the puppies of the internet sales ads.

- a person to remind them that they are loved. We all deserve this.

- the gentle acknowledgement that they are the most beloved being in the world.

- a warm place to sleep.

- a collar (dog only) AND a microchip that says "you are mine" (and the appropriate contact information).

- a place of their own. We all need a place that is exclusively ours. A bed, a perch, a cage, a corner, a space.. a bathtub and a vanity (if you are me).

- current vaccines for the appropriate place you live. Nothing, no one, not one living being should die from a preventable disease. Watching a pet die from parvovirus, rabies, a pyometra, the list is exhaustive, the mental pain, and the enduring heartbreak these bring, is avoidable. Why are we still begging for this?

- spayed, neutered, and putting the life of your pet above all else. (Breeding them puts their lives at risk, and we already have too many unwanted pets in the world).

- a walk everyday that is just for you, (I am talking to your dog, but, I know lots of cats who love being outside safely. Maybe consider a walk with them too). We don't walk a dog to go from point A to point B, we walk them so they can get out, stretch their legs, employ their nose to investigate a world of scents we can only imagine. Let your dog do the walking, just be the chaperone.

- a catnip station, toys, water fountain and feathers. How about indoor cat grass year around. What does your cat love to get their claws into? Do you think your cat feels like they are a guest in their own home, or do they think that you are?

- photos on the wall, the mantel, the wallet, all of the places where terms of endearment lie. Doesn't everyone have their screensaver set to their pet?

- cats need lots of choices for litterboxes. If you have four floors in your home, and your cat has access to each of them a litter box on each is a sign that they are welcome. Also, choices are important. What if your cat is afraid to get in the box with the lid, or can't quite manage to jump on the top to gain access? Think about your cat aging, and struggling with the joints? Who wants to debate a painful poo?

- dogs come in every shape, size, and demeanor. Some are highly social others just want mom and dad, and don't need anyone else. Maybe a gift of learning to allow others to have value is a way to ensure that your pet has options outside of you and your life. Dogs are just like people. Aren't we each our own individuals?

- remind your pets that they are the most important part of everyday. Say "good morning!" Say "I love you!" Or, say, "you are the most beautiful girl in the world!" it doesn't matter what you tell them, but acknowledge them every time you see them. There will never be another life who loves you so devotingly. 

Spend some time thinking about how lucky you are to have your pets. How lucky are we to have each other. 

Happy holidays to all of us who love the pets we devote our lives to.

I want to hear about your pets list to Santa. What would they wish for?

Cheeto,, another broken kitten who needs us..
He will have half of his tail amputated tomorrow.
He came to us with multiple injuries,, and his story continues.
He is loved and he reminds us of our purpose.

This One Perfect Moment

 

Storm. Relaxing in the last moments of Summer 2022.

Captured and captivating. Not the same thing but seriously kissing cousins. I have been chasing this one moment my whole life. All 52 trips around the sun,,, and finally I am happy to exclaim; I am here. This one moment. The one to outshine and oust all those before it. And, here's the real kicker, I am alone. (Who saw that one coming?).. Well, not totally alone, I have a cat, Wren, grooming and purring beside me, and two dogs curled at me feet. I am never truly alone. Another decision of complete choice. I couldn’t imagine being completely alone, ever. (Who would want to be that? Isn’t it just dark and claustrophobic there)?

Waiting for me to finish laundry, and keeping an eye out for squirrels.

I spent my whole life to be this one solitary thing. This singular being. The only person I ever imagined myself wanting to be. A veterinarian. I suppose some women want to be mothers, wives? (Maybe? Right? Isn’t that who we are supposed to want to become)? Well, me, nope, just a veterinarian. I put so much importance on that one thing, that one place of being, that it blocked out all of the light and choked out the life of everything else. Lucky for me that it also afforded me pets. I could have as many as I wanted. The quintessential polygamist of pets. No rules here. I can't be accused of neglecting them anything. I could be my own Dr. Doolittle-zoo-style. And who is going to challenge me? Yep, not one single soul. I set it up this way. If I knew more about pets than anyone else I could have free reign to have them all if I so wished it. How perfect is that? For me, the spinster of all else, it was everything. It's all I wanted to be, and here I am, there.

The back porch workspace

Sitting in this one perfect moment.

Wren keeps me company, (or I keep her warm, I never know which applies), as I write.

What does it look like? An Aperol spritzer. My drink for summer 2022. I really do this. I pick one drink I want to try and then if it works I ride that spritzer all summer long. A warm kitty purring her hearts desire out next to me on our porch couch. Her name is Wren. (All of my cats are named after birds; Magpie, Oriole. The most sensible way to assist the too numerous cats is to have a theme from the get-go. The dogs also have a theme; Fripp and Havana Storm. There was Charleston, Savannah before them). She always has to be near me. She is the most affectionate, reliable, and heart warming girl.  Always has a paw on me. A reassuring hand to let me know she is there. Beside me and supporting me. In bed she sleeps on the pillow above mine. I pet her all night until we both fall asleep. I will wake up and she will be laying on my hand. The heating pad to her heart and the adoration to my slumber. She is my second feline who stole my heart. There was D.C. before her. My guardian and salvation embodied in one little 7 pound ball of demands and fur. The pups lay at my feet. Always with me inside the house or out. They guard me as much as follow. They never want to be left out of the activities and stay close by so as to not miss an opportunity for an adventure. This house. So grand in her country manors. So noble in her stone façade that has stood here nestled in the woods for over two centuries. The birds all squawk and bellow around us. They are the subtle reminders that the seasons change and the populations shift. Winter is approaching and the song birds have started their own snow bird migration to warmer skies and distant shores. The jays and chickadees stay. I reward their loyalty with seeds and thick evergreen trees. I have this one moment caught between summer departing and fall clamoring in with its vibrant colors and sweater adorning chills.

There is warm cider, hot tea and blankets to remind me that I am still youthful enough to face her cold days. And the warmth of the memories tucked in every corner of my home to keep me company as the long days emerge.

The den and the dahlias

I never thought I would get here. The place where the moments hang suspended in the hopes I had for the days that I would be old enough to slow down and admire them. And yet here I am, resting on the laurels of a life that is upon its tipping point between already been there and done it, and don’t want to be pestered by that burden anymore, and the leisurely admiration of the beauty that surrounds me without me wishing it to be anywhere and anything else.

I'm going to pick dahlias now. The third grand bouquet of the weekend. Just to place them beside my pillow for my beloved Wren. The cat I refer to as royalty in the home that a castle would be envious of. In the midst of the towering dahlias of all shapes sizes and colors twists the cherry-red tomatoes. volunteers from last year that somehow made a stronghold in the garden we have to re-till every year as we replace the giant tubers of dahlia zygotes we dug up in late fall the year before. These tiny bursts of sweet eluded the genocide of all of the other plants we forced out to let the dahlias thrive. and yet they are so deliciously insidious I cannot feel anything but gratitude for their perseverance and abundance. i picked them twisted around the steel cages the dahlias require for support, spine serpentined, arms outreaching, tiny berries that fall with any degree of disruption. I placed them in handfuls into the small antique basket my mom had purchased at an antique show many years ago. I remember it held antique chicks nestled on their tissue paper shredded grass. She, like me, never wasted a thing. She could see me now, all those many years after, using this basket in my imperfectly glorious garden, and she would tell me the same thing she always did, "this is the most perfect day." 

My one perfect moment inside my gloriously magnificent imperfectly mine, my own life.

For more photos of this old stone house, or the animals I spend my at home and at work days with please follow me at 

Stone House Beautiful link here

or

Jarrettsville Vet Facebook page here

Alone in the Jungle

Alone in the jungle.. How often does everyone else feel like this? I suspect, (dare I say, hope?), that it is most. Otherwise I think that I might truly be all alone in this deserted jungle? (And how crappy would that be!)? Why do we, (or, at least me?), seek solace in knowing the rest of the boat is in the same boat with us?

Day One, USMMA plebe line-up. Second Company 1987

Maybe the grown up me just hasn't totally accepted the rest of me as "all I need?"

Why do so many of us feel so alone? And, with that, isn't that exactly why so many love their pets so intensely? If that presumption holds true then why do I feel so alone, and all alone, in my profession? I have somewhere along the way learned that I am less abandoned and more appreciated by my clients than my colleagues. (How many other vets feel this way?). I know there are vets out there sighing a sad despair-a-tive exhale with that admission. The vet profession has become a gaggle of cohorts all protecting each other from the demons lurking in the self prescribed pink juice. There are collectives who have your back regardless of your shortcomings, mistakes, or inadequacies. You just have to be a vet and they have your back. Right? Well, maybe for the other vets. But, for the small group of us not in the in-crowd it's an existence of cosmic outpost inhabitancy. You are really, really alone if you pick your clients side over your professions allegiance. What if you are the poor Schmuck who still likes your patients better than your clients and your colleagues,,, well, then you are totally fucked. What if on top of all of that you are a vegetarian,,, well, there isn't a category for that, fucked, alone, pariah. Great. 

Droog shelter, Alexandria Ukraine, 2022

That's me, totally unequivocally alone. And yet I still sit here in my dingy throwing out life preservers to the gulls passing by offering quiet applause and anonymous cheers. Last week I spoke to an internal medicine expert who said to me, "I wish you luck, this one is not going to be easy, or make you any friends." Thanks, just what I needed to hear. 

Storm, blissful in the buttercups

I wonder if my legacy will just become the Ralph Nader of the vet med profession? I wonder if I will take any kind of joy in that title? Can't anyone else see that our misery might just lie right next to our denial? Why aren't we all just on our patients side, if you know we need to pick a side? Why not them? I think it's because the us gets in the way of the them? Doesn't anyone but me see they are one in the same if you just open your lids a bit more? Who says you can't do everything for them, our patients, and not have it come back to you in spades? Or, I just have to convince myself that alone is ok, I'm not going to like myself if I try to make my colleagues like me. I'm not going to have patients that purr, wag, or cuddle me in those quiet places that we spend together. They look at me with enough gratitude to make up the chasm of difference that the profession can't fill. it is enough, it has always been enough.

Here's to being alone, saving every goddamn blocked cat and pyometra dog that my colleagues turn away. Those dogs and cats deserve a chance, a palliative nuance of possibility, and an advocate who's lonely. 

Always kiss the cat goodnight

Here's to intention having merit. Self-preservation being empowering, and lastly here's to all of the vets out there throwing stones and not able to look in the mirror at the faces of the skeletons in their own closets. 

Chief Mate CS Global Mariner, 4th of July cookout.

Here's to the Fourth of July meaning just a little bit more to us that feel alone, and a world of possibilities if we all start living a life of freedom instead of loneliness. 

The Futility Of It All. How Futility Fuels Empathetic Activism.

Serafina. Her story here 

The futility of it all is ubiquitous if you sit and think about any of it for longer than a moment. This appears to be true because just about everything imaginable can fall into the futility category. Just take a minute and think about a few examples.. You might  have to take a few steps back,, narrow, or widen, the focus, but, it's true.

Or, so I fear most days.

You will die,,, there's a big one. What the heck does it all matter if that is the final thought? Eat more cake. Watch more t.v.. Buy that expensive purse. Live larger, or, live longer,,, (which is it?). Can you do both? Isn't it all futile if a nuke lands in your back yard tomorrow?

It's futile to deny it.. All of it will end. Someday.

But, wait a minute, what about our pets? Those little delightful beings that drive us to do almost everything we so willingly have to do. Like waking  up early on those precious few days off, cleaning (yes, this includes diarrhea and vomit on the living room rug at 2 am, and, hair in every corner of every room). And, don't have to do.. like putting on a pretty dress for our eat-in dinner date together. I swear that my home lives by the motto: "I work hard so my cat doesn't have to." But, is all of this futile? My precious short time with them? My deep adoration toward them? Am I alone in this singular thought that NO! It isn't! They are my life,, certainly that can't be futile? Can it?

Pawbly is the place I chose to put my excess futile efforts outside of my too often also arguably already futile vet practice. (Futility meets its maker on an even larger scale. Yipppeee!). I can't follow any current vet practice ownership model. They have all become too calculating on how to make more money, how to lure more client visits, manage your practice better so it is more efficient AND more profitable. Listen to the experts, embrace the real facts that some people just shouldn't have a pet if they cannot afford them.. we after all are vets, we know everything,,, we should decide who lives and dies and who deserves companionship... yeah, I'm not this person... it's futile for me to try.

Poe. His story here.

There are endless debates about the futility of vet medicine. It is jarring to think about how futile that whole long four years of vet school is as the foundation of ice cream is to its banana creme sundae of my daily futile veterinary life. At least that's what it feels like in this profession on some days. Do you know how many times a day that I have to plead for a patient because I am certain that their treatment will NOT be futile? Or, how many times I have to look at an animal knowing I cannot alter the path they are on already because life as they know it is futile at this juncture. Never mind the even more futile and heart crushing cases that I can intervene on behalf of and SAVE but aren't given the chance to! Yes, I feel like my life, whole veterinary existence, is futile far too often.

For many clients the futility of their pets medical options might be financial constraints, personal issues that preclude ability to preform the treatment or an intervention task needed, or, the awful reality that life is replaceable, expendable, an economic equation, perhaps not just the current status of their health but perhaps their entire existence, and the utter lack of seeing our life as a reflection of others. That's when futility makes this veterinary life almost impossible to bear any longer.

Fripp and Storm. My puppies. Their story here.

The problem as I see it is that whatever I might know, or want to utilize to assist or intervene on behalf of, dish and dole to those who find me, and the importance of life as I see it, is futile when that patients care, or ability to access it is decided by someone lacking the ability to see their life as anything more than, well you know already; futile.

Can you see the dilemma?

The face. The cases you never forget.

It's not the ending of a life at its end from some debilitating destructively devastating disease that rips you to shreds. It's the ending a life at its most vulnerable time of needing me, the vet, to intervene for them and being unable to that makes it all feel futile. Hence, Pawbly. Try to offer more help to more people and deliver it to them for free, (which by the way it most certainly isn't).

Storm. His first appearance here.

It hits me pretty hard on occasion. This dance between navigating selfish decisions, suffering, economics, and easy street to avoid feeling anything. Then the smack in the face of futility wakes me. Pets are at the mercy of people too often. People are governed by motives I cannot always alter. People don't want to be decided for, and far too often they can't see their pets, their dilemmas and their place in altering courses like I can. Futile to try to convince, futile to push, plead, beg, and not permitted to coerce,,, futile.

Serafina.. futility at its best.

Going into every pet related situation as a veterinarian with my automatic assumption that my clients, (I say "my" because I do have invested ownership in them,, I know most other vets say 'the' (always pay attention to grammar,,, imperative of these is the choice of the noun. "Mine" is non-binary, we are all safe with "mine" ,,, use it, mean it, small soapbox diversion ended now),  is setting me up for problems, inevitably. There is this invisible line that seasoned vets learn to nimbly maneuver. Act like the patients best friend if the client can pay, send them to specialists, offer best practice medicine, charge premium for all of it, or, act like the bearer of compassionate euthanasia as their next best option if they can't. Appear to care, but decide who is worthy of our time and expertise based on financial ability first, deem the remaining as futility cases otherwise. Doesn't work for the patient all the time does it? What if I tried to always side with what was best for my patient? Albeit I might be biased, and, I might possess a more tempered professionally honed medical lens to decide who is and isn't likely to live a little longer. What if I just decided that I was my patients advocate and stuck to my guns about it regardless of the finances? Seems easier to tip-toe through this way with a client who might just think that medicine, my whole purpose is just futility dressed up in a white coat. Well, not so fast. I know many a financially sound client who uses a date, age, disease, length of  expected treatment plan, and even degree of personal involvement in said treatment plan, who opts to get another pet as this one doesn't meet their "acceptability" standard any longer. That argument, that plea to intervene on the patients behalf, leaves me with a patient of my own to try to rehome (which oddly has been easier than I assumed), or, a furious client because I am "not honoring their wishes." (Umm, does the pet have a wish? Can I ask? please?).

My Fripp. Found in a box on the side of the road.
If that almost didn't kill her a week in the shelter for her mandatory hold period almost did.

In a deep conversation with the smartest, most successful person I know, the topic of my pet project Pawbly came up. In one second of air sucking despair he gave it to me. The complete futility in the ridiculousness of a business that even a philanthropist would balk at as they dis-considered it. There it was, the perspective of extending compassionate for free care gone, evaporated, scoffed at. Futility Be Mine.

Futile efforts to herd the vacuum.

How interdependent are we all on each other? That's the question I often ask myself as the dog and cat mom to my family. Beauty, in all its intricate delicacy fades. Love herself is futile if you don't jump in and let yourself be brave enough to surrender to it. Be courageous enough to have your heart broken. Willingly. That's the aphrodisiac to futility. There is futility in caring. It will fall away from your fingertips. Leave you. And, yet I stand here stethoscope ready for the next set of futile feet to patter in or fall upon my compassionate driven threshold.

Poe

I wander in futility for the opportunity to be met by that every so often occasion where intervention matters, recognized or not. That one little soul who meanders in to my clinic, or, my website, and is able to depart better than they arrived. That one play that shifts the deck in their favor. The win in a sea of losses. The sheer joyful moment where what I have chosen to do with my life matters. The admission that this moment exists outside of every moment of every day where my beloved companions; Charlie, Storm, Fripp, Wren, Jitterbug, Oriole, and Magpie reside. That place where butterflies are air suspended floating winged fairies. Frogs are coins leaping in a fountain, and a new glorious sunrise is at the end of every nap. That omnipresent yearning where bellies are always anxiously awaiting the next treat in the many forms they find them, and nestling fur remains snuggled close the my laying legs with a reassuring resting fingertips to remind them they are safe here. It is the life I choose, futile amongst the otherwise.

Serafina

As for my largest futile effort, Pawbly, it still matters to me. This wanderlust idea that a place I created can transform a culture into acceptance that we got a few things wrong in our fear to protect our profitability. The futileness in believing that pets matter more then the dictionary portrays them as. That they are our beloved family. Our furred little ones. The idea that our lives are meaningful to each other, and worth the heartbreak the loss will cost us. That believing you can continue to try is worth the heart you wear on your white coated lapel. Profitable or not it's futile to try to take it with you.

The futility is in the trying to get through life without pain, disappointment, or solitude. The futility is denying  that empathy and love solves them all.

Anyone want a feral cat?
Sure,, meet Muffins, one of our JVC kitties.

Here's to endless practicing in futility! The bitter disappointment to futility's attempts to sway my little chips into its magnanimous suit of armor.

And proving myself wrong. That none of this is futile. It's futile to try.

Taking Frippie home.

Related Blogs;

Find What Breaks Your Heart. Why I do what I do in my veterinary practice.

Borrowing Battery Juice. How I utilize the lack of compassion I see too much of as a source of strength.

Affordable Options Are Everyone's Right. Difficult cases, expensive care and how I manage the tenuous cases that present.

The Turtle and the Unicorn. Entrepreneurialism in Veterinary Medicine. My way.

The Year of Year Around Care. Transparency in Jarrettsville Veterinary Center. How we changed the face of our practice to benefit our patients.

If you are interested in help for your pet and don't know where to go please find us here at Pawbly.com. It is a free online community dedicated to educating and inspiring pet people everywhere. It is free to use and open to everyone.

I can also be found at Jarrettsville Vet in Harford County Maryland. Visit our Facebook page here, or see our online Price Guide at our website jarrettsvillevet.com

Giving Up On Loving. The Ultimate Cost To Grieving.

Grieving has consequences. Serious, mind numbing, life paralyzing consequences. I call it the collateral damage to loving so much it hurts too bad to consider ever doing it again. Grieving is the yin to the deep love of living that is its yang.

I get it. I really, really, do! I know what grieving is. How hard it is to get through once you get pulled into it. I know what loving costs.

Me and my beloved Jekyll, at the oncologists office.

As a veterinarian I see pet loss and grieving daily. It is the painful sunset consequence to every jubilant new puppy and kitten exam we get to share. Where there is a beginning for these new bundles there is also often a decade or more of rich, deep love that at some point meets it end. That goodbye can cost more than anyone signs up for when they go to bring home their new companion. Saying goodbye often causes a forever farewell for many pet parents. I fear too often that their grief often comes with an ultimatum for never grieving again.

Overwhelmingly I get three responses when my clients lay to rest their last pet...

1. "We want to travel."

2. "They are too expensive."

3. "I never want to feel this heartbreak again. It's too much."

Do you wonder how many people say this to me? A LOT. I have started to classify them, and by "them" I include all people who have to say adieu to their beloved pets, into two categories.

Number one. My category. The place where sharing our lives with pets is our purpose. The people who can't imagine, nor have ever dared, to not have a pet in our life. The people who can't live, won't live, wouldn't even try to imagine living without a pet in their life. I am this person. I grieve but I get back in the saddle. Again. And, Again. It never gets easier to grieve the next time. Even with all my practice.

Number Two; everyone else.

.

Whenever I fear one of these reasons I always find it is almost impossible for me to answer these without clarifying who I am and what my life looks like.

Lewes Beach, delaware. My last vacation with my dying pup.

I LOVE to travel. In fact as I pen this I am on a train to NYC and then onto Boston. It is a 5 day jaunt. My three pups are with my parents. I am incredibly lucky to have parents who tolerate two puppies who most of the time act like deranged lunatics on an endless sugar high. The puppies love being there, and my parents love the puppy antics they entertain them with. We are a pet centered family. We all share each others pets and they share each others homes. If you aren't as lucky as I am to have family or friends share custody there are other options like Rover.com, or a boarding facility like my clinic runs. If you are a person who thinks that long term boarding, frequent boarding or even day trips are needed start acclimating your pup as soon as you get them. Make boarding a "normal" activity. Ask if you can start with a day or two a week and work up to overnights. Also get to know the boarding staff. They (we sure do) will send you daily photos, updates and help make their vacation as much fun as yours. If these don't work share your home with a pet sitter, or your pet can stay at doggie camp while you are away. If finances are tight a staycation, or working vacation are options. In some cases you can even bring your pet with you, although this might be too stressful for some pets. I have clients who chose to travel by motor home so their pets can be with them at all times.

The expense, well, all living creatures need appropriate health care, food, shelter, and these take financial resources. If you think that the emotional trade off has a financial restriction I can't argue with you, you just don't get it. There is no price for the love, devotion, and companionship they give for free. If you live within a tight budget, or need to budget for emergencies consider pet insurance, have an emergency pet fund, and find a vet like us who will help you with payment options if they are needed. Money doesn't have to be a defining limitation to loving a pet, but with all responsibilities that are willingly, consciously entered upon please don't adopt a companion if you cannot adequately compensate for them. I am not the veterinarian to preach about "don't have one if you cannot afford them," I am the veterinarian who will tell you from experience that the wealthiest clients don't necessarily make the most devoted parents. I will also adamantly state that caring for a pet with limited funds is possible. It takes a team approach. It takes honesty on the part of the parents. It takes openness, truthful discussions, devoted emotional investment that you share with the veterinarian, don't be angry at the vet, don't try to coerce, lie, threaten, manipulate, it will cost your pet and break the walls of trust that allow compromise to happen. I have managed difficult cases on a shoe string. It also takes a veterinarian willing to work with a budget and compromise. Not every vet does, and it is important to establish this very early on in the relationship.

Neutering Storm..

I can say this. There is a yin to grieving. There is a sunrise on the other side. There is a peaceful awakening when you open your life again to loving someone. There is also immense joy in opening your heart back up to another soul living in the today and joyful in the delight of the moment. Mourning often robs you of this. A distraction, a life to share, and a new place to build a future on is often the only thing that heals me.

I am a slave to loving my cats and dogs. It is an addiction like no other. I miss them painfully when I am away on vacation. But I am bursting with glee when they reunite with me. I mourn them when they pass on with a grief many non-pet people don't relate to, and I go on with another hopeful friend awaiting me somewhere. They are my constant source of hope and love. I still vacation, grieve them when they are gone, and invest in the care I owe them as my family.

I often tell people that I feel as if my life has been lived in chapters. Some were defined by places I lived, the events that occurred around them, but, most were overwhelmingly defined by my companions, the dogs, cats, and pigs who shared each place in time with me. They are the foundation to my life's story. The place markers, the main characters, and often the support system to get through.

Storm and Fripp.

As I lost Jekyll I gained two desperate disposed of souls who needed me almost as much as I needed them. If you have it to give cast it like seeds, watch them grow around you. It is what life means as it matters.

This is the balance to loss, living and loving again, for as long as this life will allow me.

For more information on pet loss and grieving please see my other blogs on this subject here;

Terminal Mom; The Pet Mom I Became As I Was Losing My Jekyll.

This Time Around. Coming To Terms With The Death Of My Dog.

The Phantom Effect. Pet Loss and Grieving.

The Aftermath of Pet Loss.

For more on Jekyll, his journey, and the process of digging myself out of the loss of him please see the past blogs on him here;

A Tribute to my Beloved Jekyll-Pup. May You Run Through The Fields Forever.

Jekyll

For more information on anything and everything pet related please ask us for free at Pawbly.com.

For more information on Jarrettsville Veterinary Center please visit our Facebook page, or website; JarrettsvilleVet.com

I am also posting lots of informative videos at my YouTube channel here.

Thank you for reading and sharing your life with the companions who remind us why life is worth working so hard to keep them in the lifestyle they have grown accustomed to.