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Farewell at home: Veterinarian reports on the hardest final walk of beloved pets

2024-03-08T16:27:41.318Z

Highlights: Farewell at home: Veterinarian reports on the hardest final walk of beloved pets. Nearly one in five American households adopted a pet and spent far more money on them than pet owners did decades ago. As there are more and more animals in our lives, it is only logical that their owners want to make the final moments of their lives as peaceful and painless as possible. This is where veterinarian Karen Meyers comes into play. She travels door-to-door in the D.C. area, offering animals of grieving families what the word euthanasia means: “Good Death”



As of: March 8, 2024, 5:15 p.m

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Falling asleep peacefully, surrounded by loved ones who love you: That's what many people want.

This route is also available for pets.

A report from the Washington Post.

Veterinarian Karen Meyers pulls her black minivan into the driveway of a townhouse in Maryland's National Harbor.

The house in a gated community sits on a windy cliff, not far from restaurants, bars and a casino - places of fun.

The vet carries her brown doctor's bag inside.

There she meets her patient: Xochitl, called Xochi, an 11-year-old Boxer-Great Dane mix who weighs about 80 pounds.

Xochi, who was recently diagnosed with cancer, is struggling.

A film covers her right eye.

She was bleeding from the mouth and refused to eat.

Now she stands in the living room of the townhouse and mournfully greets the family members who have come to say goodbye.

Eden Gaines pets her Boxer Great Dane mix, Xochi, on February 14.

Xochi, who had cancer, was euthanized at home, surrounded by family members.

Lap of Love offers veterinary referrals for such services.

© Marvin Joseph/The Washington Post

Xochi climbs onto the leather couch in the living room and lies down.

The owner, Eden Gaines, and her family gather around.

Meyers opens her bag.

Meyers explains the process.

First, Xochi is injected with a sedative to make her fall asleep.

Five to 10 minutes later, Meyers will administer sodium pentobarbital, which will put her to sleep.

But Xochi won't feel any pain, Meyers assures the family.

She asks if anyone has any questions.

Nobody has one.

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“It’s starting,” she says.

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During the pandemic, the number of pet adoptions skyrocketed.

Nearly one in five American households adopted a pet and spent far more money on them than pet owners did decades ago.

As there are more and more animals in our lives - as companions, as emotional supports, as beneficiaries of pet funds - it is only logical that their owners want to make the final moments of their lives as peaceful and painless as possible.

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This is where Meyers comes into play.

Working with Lap of Love, a company that provides veterinarians to euthanize pets, she travels door-to-door in the D.C. area, offering animals of grieving families what the word euthanasia means: “Good Death.”

In four years she euthanized 1,500 animals: cats, dogs, rabbits, rats.

Some had accompanied their owners since childhood.

Some had traveled around the world with them.

Some were their owner's only companion.

Veterinarian Karen Meyers gives Xochi the soporific injection of sodium pentobarbital.

The dog was previously given a sedative that made him fall asleep.

© Marvin Joseph/The Washington Post

Meyers has observed death rituals that include prayers, burning incense, wrapping the deceased animal's body in a white sheet, and opening a window to allow the animal's spirit to exit.

She has listened as owners read poems or letters to their pets and cried with them.

“When people hear what I do for a living, it sounds sad,” Meyers says.

“But it’s strangely rewarding.

...You give the pets a peaceful experience.

It’s a final gift.”

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Meyers was surrounded by a menagerie throughout her life.

Growing up, she typically had a dog and a cat or two;

At various times she also had two hamsters, two turtles, a guinea pig, a bird and four chickens.

She currently has Wren, a 6-year-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Travis, a 3-year-old Pug, Brinkley, a 13-year-old Chihuahua Rat Terrier, and Pablo, a red-bellied parrot.

Shortly before the pandemic, Meyers decided to devote himself full-time to euthanasia.

She had been a veterinarian for more than two decades, and euthanasia of pets proved to be less stressful than working in an office while raising two children.

Euthanasia at home can be easier for the animals and their owners than an in-office appointment where other sick animals and their distressed owners are gathered around them.

Meyers gives Xochi the first injection in the back.

The dog, already lying with her head on Gaines' lap, turns around and looks at Meyers as if she was slightly annoyed.

Then the dog relaxes.

Minutes pass.

Rameses Gaines holds a print of Xochi's paw after home euthanasia.

“Xochi has her wings,” Meyers announced to the assembled family members.

© Marvin Joseph/The Washington Post

Using hair clippers, Meyers shaves a centimeter-long strip from one of Xochi's legs and inserts a small IV tube.

After making sure the family wants to proceed, Meyers administers the second shot, the one with the lethal dose.

Gaines looks at the spot on Xochi's leg where the IV was placed.

“It’s amazing how gray she’s gotten,” Gaines says.

Meyers holds a stethoscope to Xochi's chest.

“Xochi has her wings,” she says.

The family is crying.

And Meyers too.

She and Gaines hug.

Meyers maneuvers Xochi onto a stretcher and covers her with a blanket.

With the help of Gaines' sons, she loads the dog into her car.

In the end, Xochi is cremated and her ashes are returned to the Gaines family.

Death is a part of life, says Meyers.

“Often people say that a human family member died and that the end was so painful.

“In contrast, euthanasia is very peaceful,” she says.

They tell her they wish they could walk the same path.

To the author

Justin Wm. Moyer

is a reporter for The Washington Post.

His work with a Post team covering the Capitol insurrection won the 2022 Pulitzer Prize, and his reporting on Saudi lobbying with a Post team was honored as a Pulitzer Prize finalist in 2019.

We are currently testing machine translations.

This article was automatically translated from English into German.

This article was first published in English on March 1, 2024 at the “Washingtonpost.com” - as part of a cooperation, it is now also available in translation to readers of the IPPEN.MEDIA portals.

Source: merkur

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