His Name Is Spirit

                                                      

Veterinary Technician Sarah Burford & Her Canine "Family"

        

            He was, beyond any doubt, one of the most pathetic creatures I have ever seen. Devoid of a good bit of hair, his skin was thickened, wrinkled, and red. His eyes were white from cataracts, he wasn't eating much with teeth that had seen better days a long time ago, and he could no longer walk.

             When his owner asked what I could do for him, I hesitated a moment before answering. From the look of concern on her face, I sensed that his was not a case of neglect, but rather a case of having a caretaker who merely loved him too much, and couldn't say good-bye. Most of us who have had pets are probably guilty of that. I know I am.

            I rattled off some tests we could run- a serum profile to evaluate his organ function and see if he was diabetic, a CBC to check for infection and anemia, a thyroid test, and maybe even a test for Cushing's disease. "Realistically, though...," I said before pausing again. "There's really only one thing I can do for him."

            She looked at me first with disbelief, then with overwhelming sadness as what I said sunk in. Fortunately, her daughter was with her, and she intervened. "Mom, you've got to let him go!"

            They didn't want to be present for the euthanasia, but I let them stay with him as long as they wanted. After they left, my veterinary technician, Sarah, helped me prepare our patient. Unexpectedly, another co-worker (who is no longer at our practice) came into the room, took one look at the little dog lying on the table, and for some reason felt compelled to blurt out, "What is THAT thing?"

            I can only guess she thought she was bringing levity to a grim situation,  but this was neither the time nor the place. Comedy is always a risky endeavor, and I make no claim to being a paragon of virtue when it comes to inappropriate comments, but that seemed pretty inappropriate, even to me.   

            I felt I should say something. Before I had a chance, though, Sarah, who was leaning over the dog, suddenly stood upright and her cheeks became flushed. "Uh-oh," I thought to myself. But in a surprisingly calm, clear voice she uttered only four words: "His NAME is Spirit!"

            Needless to say, it wasn't long before the human population of the room returned to two. Sarah quickly apologized. "I'm sorry for my outburst."

            "Sorry for what?" I replied. "Don't ever stop being like that." If you happened to read the column she wrote a few months ago about being a veterinary technician, then you know she hasn't.

            Much has been written and discussed the last several years about the rights of animals. I've written a couple columns myself regarding food animal production. I am a meat eater, and I wear leather  shoes. I think it's okay to do that. I know some people will disagree with me on those topics, and that's okay, too.

            One thing I hope we can agree on is that no matter whether an animal is used for food, or clothing, or their job is simply to be a companion, their lives should always be respected. Even, and especially, those like Spirit who appear to be at their lowest point. I can't think of anything that defines that respect more perfectly than Sarah's words.

            It's been nearly a year since I spent those few minutes with Spirit, and although I don't think of him every day, I do think of him quite often. Something will take place during work that triggers the memory, and I have a feeling the same happens with Sarah, as well. It's amazing how a brief encounter with a dog we just met could leave such a lasting impression.     

            Thank you, Sarah Burford, for being a hero and advocate for one of God's most deserving. And thank you, Spirit, for your valuable lesson on compassion and respect. You were never a "thing" to Sarah and me. You were a member of a family who loved you very much, and you even had a great name. I can promise you, Spirit, we will never forget you.

 

By Dr. John H. Jones

 John H. Jones, DVM operates a mixed animal practice in Delphos with his wife, Dr. Bonnie Jones.  He is a 1985 graduate of The Ohio State University College of Veterinary Medicine and he raises Southdown sheep.