Changed.

A dog died in my arms today.


I don't even know where to begin or if I'm even allowed to divulge such intimate details of something so personal to myself and those involved.

It started out as a normal day. Wake up at 7 am. Shower. Eat. Brush teeth. Fix hair and make up. Arrive at 8:08 am-- late because I couldn't find my keys.

8:29 am- I'm pulled out of an exam room to help a long time patient in respiratory distress. I recognize her immediately,  she has been coming here since she was a puppy.

Doctor arrives and orders radiography and immediate referral to emergency hospital.

I walk her out to see her owner. She gets so worked up that her heart and lungs give out. She becomes agonal.  Her owner asked what's wrong with her as her pet gasps and looks up into my eyes and collapses in my arms. And just like that, she's gone.

We try to resuscitate her to no avail.


I can't get that image out of my head. The image of her gazing into my eyes just before passing, as if one last cry for help.

I failed her.

I stole final moments from an owner.

I've felt death in my hands.