A Letter to My Veterinarian

Dear Doctor,

I’ve been thinking about you even though you might not remember who I am. I can only imagine how many pets, and the people who love them, are entrusted to your care. Maybe you remember a certain corgi coming to your office? Maybe you don’t. They all look the same. But, not really, and certainly not if you loved one.

I’m writing this because I remember you. I remember all of our visits to your office, even though they were far and few between. I guess I’m lucky that my Lulu only needed a few appointments during her ten years with your practice. After all, she was a healthy dog, until the day she wasn’t. Of course, there was that time she ate a bowl of M&Ms and you had to induce vomiting, with Lulu complying like a champ. There was that other time when she emitted a strange odor and you had to remove an unsightly lump from her cute derriere. But these incidents were far and few between.

I’m sure when you attended vet school, they taught putting down animals is part of the job. It’s too bad pet owners don’t get this same schooling. We all have to deal with end-of-life stuff in our clumsy way. Like asking you when it’s the right time, even though we already know the answer. I suppose we need to hear that it’s best for them, when really it might be best for us. As if putting an end to suffering can also help cure heartache along with the pain. I’m sorry for that. And I’m also sorry for not thanking you for your ability to treat a sick cat, a pet rabbit, and a dying dog all in a day’s work.

I went to your office today, and my Lulu went to Heaven. All dogs go there, so they say. I pray they are right. I pray I get to see her there someday. I pray my baby remembers she was a good girl. And I pray for you tonight too, dear doctor.

Godspeed.