Thursday 17th June 2010
John and I took our little dog Gemma to the vet's yesterday for a checkup on her leg (after her operation a couple of months ago) and to ask him to remove a tick.
We'd made an appointment but it was obvious we were going to be late when a mother and two children came into the waiting room with a very poorly red setter. It was obvious the poor dog was in a lot of trouble. He managed to stagger in and then they made him a nest on the floor of the waiting room with his blanket and sat around him while he struggled for breath.
Even Gemma sensed the atmosphere and looked quite concerned.
The vet came out and carried the dog into the consulting room immediately. The mother went in too and came out fairly quickly to tell the children to come in to say goodbye. Obviously there were a lot of tears which brought back memories of the dogs we have lost in the past. John actually had tears running down his face.
We went in to the see the vet next and he told us that the dog was only six years old. He'd had part of the tumour removed but the dog had collapsed and it was obvious they could do nothing more for him. The kindest thing was to let him go.
Apparently they can give chemo to animals but the side effects make them so ill and they don't stand up well to being so poorly. It's best to let them slip away with pain relief if required.
It made us all very sad, even Gemma, and we came away in a very sober frame of mind.
