What No One Talks About,,,What do you do after you say goodbye?

I run with my very good friend and two dogs about 3 times a week. It serves a few purposes. It keeps our young pups exercised and tired for the long days that we are at work, helps to keep us fit and less guilt ridden with the wine and chocolate we imbibe in nightly, and it allows us to commiserate. The joy in running with our pups, (who act more like a pack of wolves), is watching them look for any and every opportunity to sniff the ground, pretend to chase after a squirrel or run like the wind while pulling their middle aged moms like a piece of dead weight at the butt end of their leashes. Our dogs are crazy about the four miles together. They don't care how cold, wet, or miserable it is outside. They love the run time, and I know that in most cases we do it out of guilt for them. She is also a veterinarian and as our dogs romp we talk shop. It may be a social play event for them but for us it is a time to swap cases, ask opinions, and laugh about the silly things that cross our path, or are too ridiculous to look at any other way than with a sense of sick twisted veterinary humor.

Yesterday's topic was true to form. It began with a short tale about the passing of the somewhat feral cat that had been left behind on the horse farm that she and her husband had purchased a year ago. She was a small agile swift survivor, but like so many other outside cats she succumbed to some unknown, unidentified predator and was found dead near the only spot she ever called home.

Her life may have been short on human interaction and affection, but her passing was met with sympathy and honor. After her body was found she was brought to the horse barn, wrapped delicately in a towel and double bagged to be laid to rest by a tree over looking the farm.

Here’s where our 4 mile conversation began: The ceremony of death and the care of the body. 

How many of us memorialize our pets like they are members of our family? Do we choose to have them cremated? Or go so far as to have them cremated privately so that our pets ashes will be returned to us to be kept with us for the rest of our days? For some, especially so many of my clients who live in the rural farmland of northern Maryland, they choose a spot by a tree on the farm to lay their pet to rest.

It is an intensely personal choice. 

We all deal with death differently. I cannot say that I understand each person’s unique decision, but the following is what I sometimes find myself discussing as we stand over their just departed dear pet.

“What to do with their pets body now?”

 Your options are;

1. Cremation. Either private, where your pets ashes will be returned to you. Or, mass cremation. Where your pet is cremated with other pets.
2. Public disposal. Found dead animals, or animals euthanized at public facilities may be cremated or disposed of in landfills, based on the state and local guidelines.  
3. Preservation. Either taxidermist or freeze drying.
4. Burial at a pet cemetery.
5. Burial at home.

Invariably I have clients who want to have their pet privately cremated but have heard or read of news stories about funeral homes improperly handling remains, and I am asked any of the following;

“How will I know that I will get my pet back?” 

My answer; The company that we use has been in business for many years. Their whole ability to remain in business is by providing this service. It is solely based on the trust that they have in caring for your pets remains. They go to great pains to protect this. You are welcome to bring your pet to them, and wait while they cremate him, and they will give you your pets ashes. You can stay with your pet for almost every step.

“I don’t know what to do. What do you do with your pets?”

This is a tough one for me to answer. I always feel that I need to be completely honest. I don’t keep my pets ashes in boxes after they depart. It is not that I don’t love them, or carry their memories with me forever, but that I will have too many boxes to ever move on. Their lives were a great blessing, and the time we had I will cherish forever. Keeping a box with ashes doesn't change or lessen my grief. I keep a small tuft of fur in a tiny Victorian box on my dresser. I also have a small heart shaped locket with their picture. I also don't want my pet to be placed by themselves in a crematory oven. I know that my pets lives were full of love and that many of the bodies they would be surrounded by were not. It just doesn't seem fair to those other left behind pets to be still loved less in death? 

My pets come home with me to be buried in our cemetery. They are each given a grave site, complete with head stone and flowers, under the tree beside the pig pen. They go into the earth in a cardboard box to be decomposed and resurrected in the earthworms, butterflies, leaves, flowers, and every living creature that perpetuates the rest of us. In every day they are with me, in tiny specks of the place that they always called home.

Dasher

 

Here’s my advice to my clients. When the time comes to put your pet down discuss what you want to do with them before you get to the vets office. If you are unsure of what your options are, or how much each of them costs, call your vet and ask. We encourage you to ask and want you to understand each option. We know that the passing of your pet is an incredibly emotional difficult time and no one wants to add any additional stress to this.

Lilly

In just about every other aspect of veterinary medicine there are equal options for the treatment and resolution of medical problems in your pet versus human medicine. Brain tumors, prosthetic limbs, organ transplants.., the list goes on and on. If you can afford to pay for it, some veterinarian will provide you the care. But, there are some important differences with respect to care of your pets body after they pass. 

Belle

Here’s where I sort of get stumped about what people are thinking when it comes to caring for your pet after they have passed.

If a human being is to be viewed and then buried they are usually embalmed. Quite an unsavory ritual when you think about it, albeit a needed process. It's purpose is to remove the parts of the body that will decay and make an open casket a smelly ugly affair. But for our pets there is no such service. You cannot call the local funeral home and ask for your pet to be gutted, drained of blood, and prepared for viewing and a funeral service. Your option is instead, to find a taxidermist or someone who will freeze dry them. Some people have their pet mounted and keep them in their home. I have to admit that I have a hard time admiring a mounted anything. But people do it, cats, dogs, wildlife, that list is endless too.

If you live in an apartment, condo, or lack a private place to bury your pet there are pet cemetery plots available. Many will provide a place to have a service and also a plaque, head stone, and the rest of the attributes of a formal burial service. 

But what I see most commonly at my practice is clients taking their pet home to be laid to rest on their own property. Most of my clients have a little homemade private grave site complete with a small plague stating their pets name. Pets leave our clinic in a cardboard casket shaped box and we take great effort to provide a quiet, peaceful place and private entrance/exit for the family. There are state and local laws that govern this, so it is important to know them before you decide to bring your pet home for burial. For some clients the vessel to bury their pet is also a topic of discussion.

Ambrose

I have had clients who construct all sorts of elaborate impenetrable and about as un-environmentally friendly caskets to entomb their pet for their forever sleep as you can imagine. 

I had one client who struggled so terribly with the thought of the loss of his dog that he spent great numbers of hours erecting an impenetrable tomb for her to be forever kept in. There we were standing over her just deceased body talking about what to do next. He was very upset about losing his dog, wanted her to be with him at his home in a place she loved, but very fearful that she would be disturbed by the abundant wildlife we share our home sites with. He asked me how deep I though he needed to put her. She was a big girl of about a hundred pounds and it was winter so it was a valid question. I reminded him that it is important to dig a hole deep enough, three to five feet deep and away from any public land, flower gardens, water collection sites, or area that has any potential of being disturbed. I also reminded him that it would be a very good idea to make sure that no underground cables, lines, or pipes there. Then we discussed the idea of Rubbermaid preservation. Oh, I swear I do not know how I get myself into these landmine fields at the most inopportune times? His beloved dog was not going to be preserved no matter how many plastic tubs he put her in. The tubs would likely last for pretty close to forever, but her body? Well the bugs that live inside of all of us will take care of her from the inside out, even if he managed to seal her off from the outside. Not to mention those plastic tubs. Who wants to dig them up? Someday we too will pass. We can try to live forever, but forever will turn us back to dust and ash. 

There I stood with this dear man crying over his beautiful dog, consumed by grief and having to contemplate what to do next? 

And there I am talking about what really happens and trying to understand why would anyone choose to double encase their pet in plastic tubs? Or bags? To each their own I suppose?

There are so many inopportune times to not talk about things. No doubt the worst is the time when a person is saying goodbye to their companion. And so often this is when we find ourselves talking about what to do??,,now.

I always say the same thing, “It is a personal choice. You should do what you feel is right for you and your pet.”

Moses, D.C., Midnight, Donner, and Ms. Pig

One of the most wonderful things about the crematory service that my clinic uses is that after the pets have been cremated all of the ashes are spread on their farm, beside a pond. It is a beautiful peaceful place. When I leave this earth I would love to be placed there. Maybe I can keep looking after all of those pets? I am sure that they would be the best company for me to spend my eternity.

But leave my lockets on my pets headstones so I can be with them too.

Pet Burial, Feline Wellness

Pet Loss Support, How To Handle A Pets Remains

Maryland Law, Disposal Of Pets

If you have any pet questions you can ask them for free at Pawbly.com, or find me on Twitter @FreePetAdvice. 

Mr. Elliott's Dearly Departed

It was a typical slammed busy booked, (OK, truth be told, overbooked, again), night of evening veterinary appointments.

There is some debate over how many appointments a veterinarian should optimally see in an hour. I think 20 to 30 minutes is ideal, but I typically get booked at 15 minute intervals, with walk-in emergencies on top of that, on the two nights I work. Seeing appointments every 15 minutes causes me great stress. It is too much information to attempt to keep straight in my head as I run from room to room and patient to patient. It is the eternal juggling between keeping prices affordable, assisting our clients with their emergencies (even though our appointments are already booked), and providing a thorough examination, diagnostics, and treatment plan in a timely manner. I have yet to find that ‘perfect’ balance, I continue to run around like a chicken with its head,,,,(goodness, that is a terrible saying for a veterinarian,, umm, maybe I’ll just say  “run around like a crazy person” instead?).

In the middle of the hysteria the receptionist came to corner me in the pharmacy. I sensed her still presence and I knew she needed my full attention..(Argh, getting further behind by the minute).

I looked up met her eye to eye and then she smiled.

“OK, don’t laugh, and I’m not kidding.” She said suppressing a giggle.

“OK.” I replied, begging her internally to talk faster.

“Mrs. Elliott called, she is very upset, she said her husband is on his way down here with his fish who just died and he thinks he is responsible for it, but, she wants us to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it died from a bladder tumor and, he wants his fish to be privately cremated.” She was of course laughing by half way through the first sentence.

I, however, was not laughing as I was still trying to comprehend what she had just described.

I was mentally trying to sort through; a man is coming to the clinic with his fish?? His dead fish?? Who died from bladder cancer?? Is that possible?? Where do I find the bladder in a fish?? Oh my god, is it like a goldfish?? Is someone going to come into the front office with a fish in a baggie for me to,, umm,,,examine?? Private cremation for a fish?? There was too much odd information for me to try to process to laugh. I was just hoping that she was kidding.

I looked at her after a moment.

When she realized I wasn’t laughing she replied, “Well, I told you that I wasn’t kidding.”

“As soon as Mr. Elliott gets here put him immediately in an exam room and come get me.” I could at least try to save him from the gawking clients as he stood at the front desk holding up a goldfish in a baggie.

I didn’t have any time to research ‘fish bladder tumors’ in a book, so I was going to have to wing it should that topic arise when Mr. Elliott arrived.

A few minutes later my receptionist found me again and notified me that Mr. Elliott was waiting for me in room two. I had seen him enter the waiting area, he was carrying a attaché sized folded towel in his arms. OK, nix baggie fears.

I entered the room and looked at Mr. Elliott’s tear streaked face. I was going to be further behind then I had planned, but this man needed a shoulder to lean on and I was going to switch into low/slow gear to help him.

“I know this sounds silly, I know that no one could understand this,” he whimpered and paused. “But I loved that fish, I did, he was a really special fish.”

“My wife and I have a 75 gallon tank in the living room. We went to the aquatic store and the salespeople told us that they had a fish that liked to be petted. So my wife went over to the tank, stuck her arm into the water, and he bit her. I knew right then and there that he was the fish for me.” We both smiled, and my receptionist finally got her laugh from me.

“I brought him home that day, and every day since he has followed me back and forth in his tank. And when I go over to the tank he comes to my hand and I would just pet him. He loved that. That fish knew me.”

He lay his towel on the exam table and gingerly opened it.

In the middle of his carefully folded towel lay a ten inch long purple pink bulbous domed large headed fish. It was quite beautiful and it was certainly not your average 'goldfish'. I watched closely for any signs of life, just in case he asked, but sure enough there was none. (I was relieved he didn’t ask me to check for a pulse or a heartbeat. I wouldn’t have known how to do either).

“No, Mr. Elliott I don’t think it’s silly. You loved your fish and I think he loved you to. I understand how hard it is to lose something you love.” I gave Mr. Elliott a hug. "I know the pain you feel when you lose a pet you love. I have loved and lost a rabbit, a pig, a sheep, and many dogs and cats, and no one can tell me that the love for one kind of pet is greater than another."

There was a long, slow, still few minutes as he stood next to his fish and gazed with adoration at him.

I took another deep breath. “OK, Mr. Elliott here is where I am stuck.”

He looked at me perplexed.

“I don’t know how to be any other way than honest with you, but I am concerned that I will make you more upset.” I was dreading my next few words. I couldn’t bear to further upset an already grieving man.

“Dr. I want you to be honest.” He replied. I believe he was still fearing I would mock his fish.

“Mr. Elliott I can send your fish to be cremated, and they will gladly take your payment for it, but once he is cremated there won't be any ashes to return to you.”

“Oh!” his eyes opened wide!

“Oh!” he said again. “Fish have no bones! There won't be anything left of him for me to keep!” His tone changed from grief to resolve.

“Yes.” I meekly replied. Somewhat baffled by his sudden transformation.

He re-wrapped his fish quickly and adeptly.

“OK, I’ll take him home and bury him. Thanks Dr. Magnifico. I’ll be OK.” And out the door he went.

He was off in one direction, and I was off to find my place in the evenings appointments.

Mrs Eliott was nice enough to pass this along..

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