Julian Norton: When it’s right time to say goodbye

Anyway, having watched the interview, I found myself sending an email to Kim, offering to share a veterinary perspective on euthanasia. Her TV pitch explained that there would be much consultation with anyone experienced or knowledgeable in the field. In my email, I explained that: 1) you don’t know me; 2) I perform euthanasia frequently and therefore have some experience; 3) I was a good friend of your sister when we were at university together. I was surprised, flattered and touched by her prompt response and we quickly arranged a meeting.

It is a commonly asked question: “How do you as a vet cope with putting animals down?”

It’s never easy, but almost always it is done when necessary and appropriate. We have to stay calm, breathe deeply and trust our instincts. It can be stressful and emotional, and every vet would rather do anything else. Somehow, we have to try to remain professional and offer support even when we are upset. The nature of our job is that something good always appears soon after a sad part of the day. The “ups” always counteract and compensate for the “downs”, which is just as well. Some patients, of course, hit us hard. Bobby, the border collie who was suffering from a rare genetic condition was a case in point. I’d been seeing him for months, treating his illness and trying to make sense of his obscure disease. To make a definitive diagnosis I needed to take sequential blood tests and plot the changes in his blood count. He came in three times a week and the lab had agreed a special reduced rate for analysing the samples. Every time, he lifted his right front leg for me, in readiness for me to take two millilitres of his blood to send for testing. He never objected and never complained. His happy tail wagged, even when he felt awful and was overwhelmed by a high fever. His eyes were always forgiving when I took the sample and he was always pleased to see me. I am convinced this poorly dog knew I was trying my best to help him. On several occasions, I called at his house to treat him. He’d show off by running at high speed around the garden. “Look! This is what I can do when I’m not feeling ill,” I imagined him saying.

But when the time came, sad as it was for Bobby and sad as it will be for relatives if and when Kim’s bill is eventually passed, the right thing is the right thing. I shed a whole load of tears for Bobby with his mum when he lifted his front leg for the last time, but it was the right thing for a poorly dog. When the time is right to say goodbye, it’s the right time. And we should make it as comfortable and painless as possible.