Today I made inquiries about home pet euthanasia, and a local vet clinic gave me a recommendation after I unsuccessfully searched on the web for someone to euthanize Fig when his quality of life is significantly diminished by the cancer. (For those in need, use "home pet euthanasia" as the search term and you will find at least a couple of national directories; there just weren't many listed for my area, so try local vets for other recommendations.)
I read some months ago that it is better to find someone ahead of time as well as to make decisions about disposal of your pet's body. Just as many people make their final arrangements in advance of need, it seems wise to make these decisions when we are not grieving the loss.
Still, it seems a bit of a paradox to think about death, and even to plan for it, prepare for it, when we are living. Perhaps my reaction is just an emotional reflex bred by a culture that is so uncomfortable with death. Sometimes I think that being afraid to really live life, to throw ourselves into it wholeheartedly, generates an accompanying fear of death. To die when we haven't let ourselves live is to be cheated of life, right? Even if we are cheating ourselves. But to approach death mindfully, rationally, not ignoring the feelings the topic generates yet not being swayed by them - that is a means of honoring life.
So as I think and plan how best to handle Fig's passing, I resolve to do so with an appreciation of the life that is yet in him, and with gratitude for the years of love, affection, and companionship he has given me...he deserves no less.
No comments:
Post a Comment