The Tale of the MF'er and the Trash Can Lady

This afternoon I said goodbye to an old friend ... one month after saying goodbye to another old friend. On the drive home, I had some time to reflect on how very different the experience of each death was.

Our 12 year old lab, Sadie, was ready to go. Her physical problems, compounded with her loss of her pup, Athena, one month ago, sent her into a downward spiral this past week. She wouldn't eat. She was incontenent. She could no longer walk. She was ready to go.

Athena, a pup from Sadie's only litter, was still a ball of energy. She was almost 10 years old when she was hit last month, but she still had the energy of a 2 year old. She may have lived forever had it not been for that black Yukon driving down Bowen Avenue.

I drove up just after she was hit and loaded her into the back of my car. I drove her to two nearby veterenary clinics and was told by both that they didn't have a doctor. Huh? You are a vet ... but you don't have a doctor? Right ...

I was especially frustrated because I had left my phone at the house, so I was off the grid. The receptionist at the 2nd vet clinic informed me of an emergency clinic on the other side of town, so I hopped back into the car and headed across town.

I'm pretty sure that we hit every stoplight on the way (which was fairly maddening), but we finally made it. After I told them that I had a hurt dog in the car, a couple of guys ran out with a cart to get her to the doctor. Shortly thereafter, the doctor and I agreed that it was best to put her down. I petted her while she passed.

This was a very expensive trip to the vet, but the experience was as good as could be expected under the circumstances. The people acted with urgency and they were compassionate. We even recieved a hand written sympathy card in the mail a couple of days later.

Today's experience was much different.

I didn't want to spend the money to take Sadie to a private vet, so I decided to take her to the City of Arlington Animal Services clinic. I loaded her in to the back of my car and we headed across town. Only this time I wasn't in a hurry.

I turned the radio off and rolled down all of the windows. I hope that Sadie enjoyed feeling the breeze and listening to all of the traffic sounds. I did.

It was actually a pleasant drive, although it felt inappropriate for me to be tracking our progress to our destination on my GPS. I turned it off after I thought about it. We arrived and I looked for the entrance that I had been directed to use.

I didn't see it the first time so I circled around. After more carefully observing the signs, I found where we needed to be. Just as I arrived, a car backed out of a parking space just in front of the door. As the car drove off, I proceeded into the space, a space that the driver of a car coming from the other direction felt entitled to.

I had the right of way, so I took the space as the other driver blared his horn at me. Both of our windows were down, so he took the opportunity to call me a MF'er in as dirty a tone that he could muster as he passed. He and his passenger stared me down so fiercely that if I took one more breath, it would be one too many as far as they were concerned. People are dissapointing.

I filled out paper work. I paid. Sadie waited in the car.

After paying, I walked to the back of the car and rubbed Sadie's ears until the staff was ready for us. I told the lady that Sadie could no longer walk, so she would need to bring a cart to wheel her in. This appeared to be no problem, but she returned with one of these:

I told her that I was not putting Sadie in a trash can. She responded that I was welcome to get a refund and take Sadie to a private vet. People are disappointing.

I let her comment slide without petty response and asked for her to make a path to the table.I would carry all 90+ pounds of her by myself if I needed to. But I'm not putting my dog in a trash can.

She took the trash can back inside and brought out a cart like this:

This was more like what I expected, so we placed Sadie on the cart. I was not allowed to be with her, and was hardly given a moment to say goodbye at the threshold of the door. I petted Sadie quickly, told her that she was a good dog, and told her to tell Athena hi.

The trash can lady assured me that she would be nice to her. Forgive me for being a skeptic.

There was quite a bit of traffic on the way home which gave me some time to reflect. The outcome of both trips to the vet was the same. However, I felt more at peace after Athena's passing. Odd considering the anxiety surrounding her event.

It all boiled down to people. I was not a MF'er when I brought Athena into the clinic. She was not garbage. She was worth the opportunity to properly say goodbye.

Wouldn't it be nice if we all showed more empathy, more compassion for each other? It sure would make for a more pleasant drive home.