My cat Yogi was 20 years old, but the very picture of health until a malignant tumor took up residence in his mouth. It grew quickly and began causing Yogi much discomfort – so much so that he wouldn’t eat. I didn’t want my buddy to get to the point of immense suffering.
I moved about a year ago, and had looked for a veterinarian with Fear Free or Low Stress Handling credentials. I found a clinic that advertised itself as a fear-free hospital within an hour’s drive, and had visited the clinic several times without being either impressed or dismayed. I made an appointment to have Yogi euthanized at this clinic.
When the veterinarian entered the examination room, I told him I’d like Yogi to be sedated before the euthanasia drug was administered. He indicated that this was fine, and left the room. He came back with an assistant and a tiny syringe, saying, “This will sting a little but within less than five minutes he’ll be completely sedated, though his eyes will remain open. Are you ready?” I said yes. He then said that after he gave the sedation injection, he’d leave and come back in five minutes to euthanize Yogi.
I’m not new to this procedure, but it never gets easier. As a vet tech, I assisted in the euthanasia of hundreds of pets; I’ve also supported friends, family, and clients during the euthanasia of their pets, and was present when all of my own animals passed. But what I experienced that day haunts me.
Yogi was very weak, had recently stopped eating, and had failing kidneys. Many animals in this condition don’t even notice an injection. I expected that he might feel a little prick and then slowly go to sleep – but that’s not what happened.
When the vet injected the drug into the muscle of Yogi’s hind leg, my cat screamed the loudest meow I’ve ever heard and, with a power he hadn’t displayed in years, thrust himself backward almost off the end of the table. The vet said, “You can let him go.” What?! I heard the words but my protective instinct kicked in; I was not going to let my frail friend crash to the floor! I was able to prevent him from falling off the table, but then he launched himself forward and upward out of my arms, flailing toward the wall. The vet and the tech stepped away from Yogi, as I flew to the other side of the table, catching him mid-air so he wouldn’t crash into the wall. They then excused themselves and left the room!
I sat with a now-comatose cat, limp, with eyes dilated and glassy. I held his fragile, soft, furry body – the same body that had just acted like super cat – and wept. What the hell just happened? I was in shock; the peaceful end I had hoped my friend would experience had instead turned hideously painful and traumatic.
A few minutes later, the vet and tech came back in, to give the final injection in a vein in Yogi’s hind leg. Within a minute, my boy was on his way to getting his wings to soar. As for me, the shock of Yogi’s last moments kept me silent except to say thank you as I picked up Yogi’s lifeless body to take home to bury.
That night, I couldn’t sleep, thinking how I betrayed my companion of 20 years by holding him while someone hurt and terrified him. I couldn’t shake the vision of Yogi’s last moments. Since I’d never experienced such a horrific euthanasia, I thought it was an anomaly – that his reaction was rare – and I vowed to disallow that drug, whatever it was, from being used on any of my animals again.
Horror Redux
Sadly, a few months later I would be facing another end-of-life decision, this time for a dear friend’s pet. My friend had passed away, and her spouse was having a tough time grieving her loss while caring for the special-needs dogs she left behind. In her honor, I asked if I could help care for the two senior dogs: Hopper, a 17-year-old, deaf, blind Chihuahua; and Buddy, a nine-year-old dog who was disabled with a spinal injury. My friend’s husband agreed, and I took them into my home.
It soon became clear to me that Hopper was failing. After a lengthy conversation with my friend’s spouse, we decided that it was time to let Hopper go, before his suffering was unbearable. Since I thought what happened with Yogi was an anomaly, I called the same veterinary practice to make an appointment to euthanize Hopper. Still, I planned to ask the veterinarian to use a different drug to sedate Hopper, so that the experience would be like all the other euthanasias I had witnessed. In addition, when I made the appointment, I asked for a sedative that I could give Hopper before we ever even got to the veterinary hospital; this little guy was blind and deaf and very vulnerable in his dark and silent world, and I wanted to give him all the help I could.
Hopper was very relaxed in my arms as we waited in the exam room. The veterinarian entered, and asked if I wanted to sedate Hopper further before administering the euthanasia drug. I said yes – but added that I didn’t want him to use the same drug that he used with Yogi.
The doctor responded that it should be fine for Hopper, because it’s harder on cats than dogs; just a little prick and in a few minutes he’d be completely sedated. I was stunned, thinking, “Wow, really?! You know it’s harder on cats than dogs and you gave it to my cat anyway?” But at the same time, I had this tiny dog in my arms on the table, not knowing what was going on, unable to see or hear, pressing his body against mine. I didn’t want to prolong the experience. I decided to trust the doctor’s word, that dogs don’t react to this drug like cats do, and since Hopper was already relaxed from the sedative I’d given him, it would be fine. So I said, “Okay, if you think the same thing won’t happen, then it’s time; yes, go ahead.”
I held Hopper while the vet gave the injection into the muscle in Hopper’s hind leg. There was no reaction from Hopper, thank goodness. Phew! The vet left the room.
Five minutes later, Hopper was still sitting in my arms, as awake and relaxed as he had been since we arrived. The vet came back in and looked at Hopper, amazed that he wasn’t fully sedated. “Wow,” said the doctor. “I’ve never seen this before. He’s not sedated at all.”
“No, he’s not,” I said. “Perhaps the syringe was empty?”
The vet looked at me as if I was crazy. He said, “NO, I gave the injection.” I remained silent, having said what I thought to be true, that perhaps the syringe was empty. He said he would go get another injection.
When the vet came back in, I suggested that he inject Hopper’s other hind leg. He agreed, saying, “There must have been no circulation in that other leg and that’s why the first injection didn’t work.”
I held Hopper while the vet gave the injection – and this time, Hopper screamed, became Superman, and started biting at the air. Blind, he was in a state of sheer panic and pain as I held him, snapping wildly. I looked into the vet’s eyes with fire in mine. He left the room, saying he’d be back in five minutes.
The moment the door closed, Hopper collapsed in my arms. I held him close, apologizing to him and crying my eyes out. I couldn’t believe this happened again. I was stricken because I had let Hopper down – I had let down his owner, my deceased friend! I was reliving Yogi’s horrible experience, and beside myself with anger and despair – and it still wasn’t over for Hopper.
Five of the longest minutes later, the vet and the technician came back in. They said nothing as they worked together to insert the needle into a vein and administer the euthanasia drug. I wept quietly, petting Hopper and silently imploring him to forgive me. Hopper’s end, like Yogi’s, wasn’t painless nor fear-free. I felt this was a heinous crime and I was complicit.It was all I could do to drive home afterward, taking deep breaths to calm myself, wiping the tears that kept falling down my face, and talking out loud to both of my deceased friends, Hopper and his owner, the whole way. It was gibberish chatter to help me make it home.
I feel terrible that it took two awful experiences to investigate the drug that caused such pain and terror in the two animals in my care, as well as the credentials behind the “fear free” claim made on the veterinary practice’s website, only to learn that the drug used in this way is not remotely the best protocol, and that no one in the veterinary hospital had any actual training or credentials in fear-free or low-stress handling.
After being upset to the point of immobility for days, I decided that I could, at the very least, try to prevent any other animals from suffering needlessly before being euthanized while their loving guardians witness their pain and terror. I don’t want any animal to go through what mine did, or any guardian to have this haunting memory seared into their minds for the rest of their lives.
I am now on a mission to spread information about ways to do everything a guardian can do to ensure a good death for her beloved animal companions when it’s time.
This is a shit article. You should have at least named the cunt vet that did this. Name and shame, unless you do, other animals will go through this. It’s your fault that dog died in pain. Hope you’re happy.
We had to put our dog to sleep today. What a horrible experience!! The Vet gave her the sedation shot then left the room, she started (what I call) convulsing! I was bawling my heart out while holding her, my husband took her and when the Vet came back in he said she was sedated enough and her jerking and flailing was normal! He then administered the 2nd shot and told us it would take awhile as her skin was thick!? And he would come back an administer more in a few minutes. He came back and did another shot and said it wasn’t going to work most likely and her leg was bleeding from this now 3rd shot, I don’t think he knew how to give it, he said her BP was low and he’d come back in a few minutes and see if she needed the shot in her stomach! So now she had the sedative and 2 shots of whatever the 2nd part is (did I mention she only weighed 10 lbs?) He comes back and she’s still laboring with her breathing so he starts massaging her stomach and tells us she’s “enjoying this”! We noticed she was laboring and fighting it! He finally administered a 3rd (well now 4th shot) into her tummy and stayed with a stethoscope and then told us a few minutes later she had finally passed. This drug out for a good 30 minutes from start to finish. I’m completely hating myself for allowing this and second guessing our decision. Seems she suffered more being euthanized than with all the health issues we were dealing with. We are having her cremated, when I pick her up I plan on completely going off on this veterinarian office! They didn’t bring a towel or blanket to lay her on that cold metal exam table and once she passed we were told to say our goodbyes and just leave! I wasn’t going to walk out and leave her on that table alone. I’ve never experienced euthanasia as in the past other family members handled it but today my husband and I were there, my husband has done this before and told me this was disgusting the way this all happened today. He left before me to go outside and throw up! We are both completely devastated that we had to make the decision and then to watch our baby go through 4 shots total to end her life. I can’t believe a little 10 lb dog required 4 shots! Has anyone else experienced their baby needing several shots & watching their furbabies fighting each one?
I’ll never get over this!
I just experienced all This tonight. My young chihuahua with cancer. She was already in so much pain and uncomfortable and I couldn’t believe my dog’s response while I was holding her head. She actually bit me, and has never bit anyone before. I tried to hold her down and get her to sedate and I couldn’t believe how traumatic it was. Someone. Weds to create a gas sedation that smells like bacon. Fuck this shit it’s pure evil.
I had the same experience, many years ago with a young cat in heart failure. It’s something that will always be in my memory and one that caused me so much pain. Our cat was only a year and half when he suddenly went into heart failure. He apparently had cardiomyopathy that went undetected until he crashed. I rushed him to a large emergency vet hospital and after a day of trying to diagnose and stabilize him, he had a seizure that put him into a coma. It was recommended that I euthanize him. The vet took him out of the oxygen tank and walked us to a little room where we could say our good-byes. He explained the familiar procedure of the two shots and assured us that our cat would go peacefully. We were doing all we could to not completely break down since this whole thing was so sudden and unexpected. So my husband held him as this young vet gave him the first shot. He left us in a room alone with him to say our good-byes and told us he would be back to administer the final shot. I fully expected that first shot might even help him cross over since he was already limp and seemingly a hair away from death. How wrong I was! As my husband was cradling our cat, we both began to sob. Suddenly though, our cat “woke up”! His eyes opened and we looked at each other like this was a “miracle”; our cat was coming back to us. But instead, his claws extended all the way out, like he was grasping for his life. His eyes widened and suddenly he began to convulse; tail twitching in a circle and head jerking. But what I remember most was the horrific sound he made! He honked like a goose and it was loud! I ran out of the room in complete horror, screaming for the vet to come help us. The vet ran in, grabbed the cat and slammed him down on the cold metal table and injected his heart!! I remember just collapsing in tears, barely being able to breathe myself. The shot to the heart stopped the noise, but I went into shock. This kid vet (who really was fresh out of school at the time) said he was “sorry”, but offered no explanation to what happened. I was too traumatized to ask questions and just left with my husband, crying tears like there was no tomorrow. By the time I thought to ask this vet what happened, he had transferred out of that hospital. I doubt he could have said anything that would have helped. I know what I saw and heard that day. I even needed PTSD type counseling afterwards when I couldn’t function without hearing and seeing that last scene with my beloved cat. It’s safe to say that I have been looking up this topic for years now, wanting answers. This is the first real forum I have found with stories that ARE similar to mine. I am so sorry all. It’s not something you ever get over. At least I never did.
Wow. I found this site and story tonight…every once in a while I still go searching online to find out if anyone experienced what I did…to find answers about how and why it happened. It’s been a few years now and it’s still painful for me – I still cry. She was my cat, my best friend. She got very sick and the vet recommended it. Now, several years earlier, I had to make the same choice for an older cat, and I remember a peaceful experience. There were 2 injections – a sedative and then the big one. She went quietly. But for this cat, it was a horrible experience. The vet was not helpful or supportive through any of the treatment leading up to the final decision. They just wanted money. I paid until i had nothing left (I don’t have much anyway)…and she was still sick. Finally, they recommended putting her to rest. The day came, and they just asked if I had any questions, and did not really explain any options for us. They left us alone for our last few minutes together. I held her in my arms. Then they came back with a syringe. She became panicked and tensed when they came near her again – she wasn’t ready. Since I had seen this done before, I thought this is the shot that will calm her – the sedative. They injected her hind leg, and…she bolted upright, backwards almost flying over my shoulder, and collapsed on me. I was in total shock, and started crying. They told me to lay her on the table so they could check for vital signs. They said she’s gone. Gone?! That was it!? I sobbed, about to cover her up with her blanket, and then it happened. The most horrible noise, like a grunting cough…and convulsions. I distinctly remember counting three violent convulsions and thinking dear God make it stop! Suddenly, it stopped. I was horrified and at a loss for words. They checked her again and said she’s gone. Again? Are you certain this time? They left us for some time, alone…me and the lifeless body of my girl – I could barely pull myself together to leave the hospital. To this day I have unanswered questions, like…was the vet responsible to explain more to me even though I had no questions? Remember I assumed there would be two shots as with my first cat and the better experience so I went with it. Did I have the right to ask for a sedative? Was the convulsing and awful noise normal? Should the vet have known better to sedate her? – she was alert and wide eyed, she was sketchy when they started to come near her. However after the above story, not even confident about the sedative. Today I have no cat and I’m literally afraid to have the whole ordeal happen to me again. I miss cat company. I miss my girls. I wish I had brought my last to a different vet.
Please see my story below. You are the first person to describe the noise my cat made after the first shot. I never forgot it and I never got answers to it. Perhaps it was agonal breathing? It was very disturbing.
This is absolute B.S.
This is not physically possible. This has the warning signs of a completely fabricated story and you’re a sick and twisted fucked up person for trying to manipulate people’s sympathy like this. Fuck you.
What? WHAT is not physically possible? What are you talking about??
Like many of you I googled to find out about the sedation. Our almost 15 year old cat went through a similar experience yesterday. We had planned it to be a very peaceful event (although extremely sad), with her little family around her. I gave her some relaxing medication before the doctor arrived- but not enough apparently. The vet said she’d not feel anything but a small prick when the needle entered. On the contrary. Our otherwise calm cat screamed so loud, she was in so much pain and it took forever (like 30 seconds) before she removed the needed with the sedation. Wow. We were in shock and crying and trying to comfort our hurting kitty who was seemingly very upset at us for letting her down. The whole point in having it done at home was “less stress” . The vet had to give a second sedation – as she was still moving a bit – but this time she didn’t show any signs of feeling it (maybe she couldn’t express it). The rest of the procedure went without incident, but this experinece made us swear that we would tell everyone about what to expect, and to give your pet a good amount of relaxing drugs before the vet arrives. My husband and I are full of guilt and wish we had known before we started the process. It’s very hard to think about good memories right now, all I can think of is her screams and how this otherwise very calm cat was injected with something that was very painful in the very end, organized by us – the people who committed to take care of her and protect her. I will never be able to forget this experience. Please, please distribute your messages out to as many people as possible. Thank you for writing it, and I’m sorry I read it too late.
Cannot believe that so many of us have gone through this with such incompetent vets. It was difficult enough to make the decision to have my wonderfully sweet cavalier euthanized, which I am still feeling torn about, but then to add to our grief by treating my dog and yours like this makes the pain worse. I am still totally upset because I looked at all the reviews and everything pointed to her being the type of vet we felt would make our dog’s final time comfortable and peaceful. Her website said to remain as calm as possible and not to get emotional as this would upset the dog, so I am holding in and separating all my emotions and she causes my dog pain and upset him. Not what I wanted for him. From the moment she walked in, the effect she had on my dog was he looked uncomfortable and tense and kept looking over his shoulder. Because my dog had quickly been sedated from around the back of us, we never got that extra time to say goodbye while he was awake, and then when we put him on the couch, And she injected him twice more, caused me to shut down and zoned out because I was so stressed out, She was local person but I wish I had gone with Lap of Love. The AVMA supposedly trains these people. I am on the fence about reporting her. Her response to me on Yelp was that things happen and you can’t please everybody and I should go to her Pet Loss Groups because of my anger and emotions. Well, that wouldn’t have happened if she did her job right. Her excuses were she works 3 jobs, has bills to pay, mother had died, her profession had high suicide rate, etc.
In the end, we all wanted the best for our dogs and since our dogs are very loyal, loving and wonderfully forgiving creatures, they are looking down at us, and would want us to know that it’s ok, because we did our best and it wasn’t our fault, because they are at peace now and want us to remember all the good memories we had with them and will always love us no matter what.
In my personal opinion I would like to tell you of horrible experience with Dr. Susan Holt of Say Goodbye at Home in Quincy, MA which was quite different from reviews telling of a caring, engaged, compassionate and comforting person, as she was nothing like the person who came to our door. However, there were two of us present and we both agreed this is what happened.
From the outset she never touched or greeted our dog or gave him an exam. There was no interacting, engaging or acknowledging our dog, and he looked quite tense and kept looking around.
Waiting for some sort of guidance and direction, we were standing around, holding our dog, when she suddenly came up behind us and quickly injected our dog startling him and causing him to loudly yelp as it was painful. Never asked if we needed more time to say goodbye or if we would have liked to sit down for the injection. She was very uncommunicative, barely answering me at times. But now our opportunity was gone because our dog was drifting off to sleep.We had to quickly put him on the couch, where she instantly prepped him for the IV, causing him to awaken because he wasn’t given enough time for the sedation to work, so yet another injection was given, then the IV. We felt rushed through the whole process.
His final exit was being wrapped in a disposable puppy pad and placing him into the overloaded trunk of her car with just enough room for him as he was pushed into a lightly colored trash bag and shoved to the back.
This final farewell was devastating and heartbreaking and not what I envisioned. I expected so much more and got so much less. Our dog deserved better.
Where was the Dr. Holt who takes the time to pet and talk to a dying dog, making him feel comfortable, encouraging owners to sit down and say their goodbyes before sending him to a peaceful sleep and brings them out in dignity. She did not live up to my expectations.
NEVER EVER hire a vet who is about to go on vacation. It is too late for my dog but don’t let it be too late for your dog.
Dr. Holt replied that in our grief, that what we saw didn’t happen and that she explained everything and how she is overworked, working 3 jobs. That you can’t please everyone and here we are (my partner and I) both agreed on what she did. But she went on to say she knows she did her best. May respond thru the Yelp app but it appears they took my experience off.
Disgusting. If she is “overworked”, she should not be working a job in which the LIVES of another living thing are put in her hands. What an awful human being Dr. Susan Holt is.
I had to have my 14 year old “tweenie” dachshund put to sleep 3 days ago. After being the shot of Telazol, at first she seemed to be going to sleep, but then she started jerking her head and limbs around violently, screaming and crying the most awful I’ve ever heard, then lost control of her bladder all over my lap. I think she had a seizure actually. She calmed back down enough to get the final medication. I feel so guilty, and feel like I should have stopped the procedure. But this would have been the second that I backed out of doing it. I had made the appt. Last November but couldn’t go through with it when I got her there. She had a lot of health issues, but I will always feel guilty and uncertain after the way her final moments went down.
It’s not the patient’s problem that she was overworked. In no way does she treat a patient in this maner. I would bring her up to the State Board if I were you. This is not the way to put down any animal, and there is no excuse for it. It’s hard enough for any pet owner to put their animal down, and then for a vet to be showing no compassion, and just hurrying up to the do it…is not a way to perform in any practice.
Hi, my name is Glendita I just out my dog down 2 days ago and reading this article makes me wonder if my dog was treated the right way. I was not in the same room I couldn’t see the vet injecting the shot in him I was already heartbroken for taking him there in the 1st place…My question is what if my dog came back alive and survived the euthanasia shot and is trying to call for help 3 feet under ground inside he’s cardboard casket. I don’t know what to do I feel like digging him back out to make sure he isn’t breathing, can he survive 3 feet under grown in he’s casket!?
Oh Honey I feel your pain. I was with my girl, and I also held my girl at home for an hour later while my dad dug her grave. I thought she seemed peaceful and asleep and I kept thinking what if she wakes up. Once their heart has stopped it won’t happen but I understand the thought.
Just like some of you, I Googled this topic. I had to put down my 12 year old American Bulldog on Monday. I was already devastated but, it was time. My Roxy loved going to the vet, it was another opportunity for a car ride and, a meet and greet. I think she was ready too because she walked into the exam room and laid right down onto the blanket they had prepared.
She had been with this vet for over 11years. He had always been very honest and wonderful with her care. He explained the process to me (I’m a nurse so, I do understand the terms used). He warned me that the first injection for the sedative may sting and Roxy may yelp a bit. I was not prepared for the screams that happened right after that. I cannot get the image out of my mind. It was awful and lasted about 30seconds but felt like an eternity. They say euthanasia is peaceful, well that wasn’t my experience.
I called the vet the next day to express my anger. He sounded remorseful and apologized. He told me he was even surprised by the extreme of Roxy’s reaction. I don’t know if I can forgive him.
Veterinarians need to do better!