As the life left her, I choked back tears and concentrated on my job. I placed myself outside the moment, forcing myself to continue breathing for her minutes after her heart had stopped and her eyes had glazed over.

She was the first patient I have ever lost. In the nearly two years I've worked at the clinic, I've been the kind hands that ushered hundreds of beloved pets to their final destination. I've stroked their heads and told them how wonderful and cared for they were, even if their humans weren't strong enough to be there as they passed. But never have I tried so hard to save one, been the sole moderater between the dog and the afterlife, and felt so incredibly helpless.

It hurts. There was nothing I could have done, she had been poisoned by antifreeze days before and the damage was already done. But sitting with her for six hours, petting and taking her vital signs every fifteen minutes as she stared up at me with eyes full of hurt and the desire to die, made me feel as though I should have done more. Watching her breathe in, unable to catch her breath and knowing that every breath hurt more than the last, I wanted so badly so save her.

I'm sorry, girl. I wish I could have saved you.

Death is a part of life - it's the natural end for each and every one of us. No one can cheat death, not when her final price is so steep.

Labels: Work.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Friday, December 15, 2006.