Vets Help Pets, Families Say Final Goodbyes at Home

Twelve-year-old Bailey had congestive heart failure. Quite elderly by St. Bernard standards, her health continued to flag despite the best efforts of our wonderful vet. Watching her decline broke my heart, and when Bailey lost both her appetite and her joy for life, I knew it was time to let her go. But at 130 pounds, Bailey was a big girl. She struggled to breathe just lying on the living room rug, so I dreaded putting her through the trauma and exertion of getting into a car and going to the vet to be euthanized, but didn’t think we had any other options.

Then a friend suggested that I call Dr. Andrew Pepper, a vet with a mobile practice out of Sag Harbor, so Bailey could pass comfortably at home. I was a little hesitant to call, since he’s not our regular vet and I didn’t want to impose, but figured I had nothing to lose by asking.

Pepper was kind and caring. He asked a few questions to make sure euthanasia was appropriate, and scheduled an appointment to come the next morning. Bailey died lying peacefully on her bed, with me stroking her big, beautiful head and whispering my love into her ears. After allowing me some time to sit with Bailey afterward, Pepper took her body with him and arranged for her to be cremated.

Humphrey, a corgi we adopted at 10, trotted into his 13th year with all the attitude and spunk of a dog half his age, but as the year wore on, there were small signs that all was not well. He didn’t bounce out of bed in the morning all excited to head to the beach. He picked at his food instead of scarfing it down. His back legs became unsteady and seemed to just go out from under him now and then. He wore diapers in the house. Vet visits found nothing and everything. No cancers, just an old dog who had played hard his whole life. He had arthritis, and corgis are prone to spinal issues. A nutritional supplement got him back on his feet and gave him another year of beach walks and playing with his friends, but eventually his legs started to fail again and we knew the end was coming. Once more, we wanted to make his transition as easy as possible.

I called Pepper, who was again kind and accommodating. I explained the situation, noting that Humphrey still had some really good days, and that I didn’t want to act too soon, but I also didn’t want him to suffer unnecessarily. Pepper assured me that I would know when it was time. He also said that home euthanasia has always been a big part of his practice, very often for other vets’ patients. “Sometimes it feels like that’s all I do,” he said.

Making the decision to end a pet’s life is never easy, but it’s part of the contract we make when we bring these furry family members into our homes. As a friend told me once, “If you want a pet that’s going to outlive you, get a turtle.” And while turtles are lovely, they don’t really fill the bill for those animal lovers who want the warm interaction that life with a dog or a cat offers.

Southampton resident Paul Bollo is another pet lover who chose to euthanize his beagle mix, Clancy, at home last year. “Clancy was 17, he was up there,” said Bollo. “I adopted Clancy from the Southampton Animal Shelter when he was around 3, and by the time they got to me as an adopter, they were like, ‘Just give this dog to anyone who can deal with him.’” Notorious for following his nose wherever it led, Clancy was an escape artist and accomplished forager who had his owner out many nights looking for him.

“When he stopped roaming, I knew it was time.” Clancy had been diagnosed with cancer — a large growth near his rectum. Surgery was an option, but Bollo’s vet wasn’t encouraging. “She said you can do the operation, but it’s a lot to put him through at his age, and there’s a good chance it will come back.” Clancy lasted a year.

“It was right before my 50th birthday. He was having trouble pooping, and I could see he was just holding on for us. I brought him to my vet on a Friday morning, but then I just couldn’t do it. I told her I just wanted a few more days with him, I wanted my mom to be able to say goodbye to him, for the nieces and nephews to see him. I don’t have kids, so that dog was my world. He was my mom’s world, too. You don’t realize until they’re gone how much therapy they really provide. My mom is in her 90s, and he was instrumental in keeping her active and moving.”

“I had Dr. Pepper come over three days later, and in those three days Clancy really declined — we could see he was uncomfortable. Dr. Pepper was very sweet, and he sent us a note afterwards. Seeing Clancy go so peacefully, and being there with him, was good for me.”

“Home euthanasia is very gentle,” Pepper explained. “It comes down to two little injections. You give a little sedative to knock them out, then the second shot that stops the heart. It’s so much better if people can be there and see it happen, because otherwise their minds can run away with things. And with COVID the past couple of years, a lot of clinics wouldn’t let people in with their pets, so that became a problem.”

“People usually call me beforehand to talk about what’s happening, but sometimes they leave it until the last possible moment and that doesn’t always work out. The hardest part is that I’m only one person. I don’t like to tell people I can’t come, so I’ll come to you at 7 in the morning if I have to, but once my day gets going, it’s hard to change things around. If people wait too long, then sometimes I get to the house and the animal is just moribund, and honestly isn’t going to notice anything anymore. But I don’t judge. Sometimes people have kids at college, or in camp, and they want them to see the dog beforehand. Nobody wants to do it before it’s necessary. It’s a hard thing to plan for, and what I tell people when we schedule it for three or four days down the road is, ‘If you call me that morning and tell me he’s rallied, I’m not going to charge you.’

“But setting a date sort of makes it a reality, and gives the owner a chance to make their last memory of their pet special.”

He’s euthanized pets at the beach, in people’s yards — wherever they feel best about saying goodbye to their fur baby. Usually the owner stays with the pet, but sometimes they choose not to.

“Sometimes people leave the room, and I think that’s a personal choice everybody has to make. I’ve read stuff in veterinary literature about how horrible that is, but I feel very strongly that it’s wrong to pass judgment. It’s all about how we deal with death, it has nothing to do with how much they love their animal.”

Even if an owner can’t deal with being present, Pepper still feels that home euthanasia is valuable. “You avoid the whole fear factor. Animals know. Even before you get the into the parking lot at the vet, they start shaking. You have to consider that for the last five or 10 minutes of his life, he’s going to be scared. The big reason I do at-home euthanasia is because it’s easier on the pet.”

Jane and Stephen Braun’s Labrador mix suffered a back injury that left her partially paralyzed, and after six weeks of treatment didn’t improve the condition, they made the choice to put Feisty down at home.

“She was very independent, and she was becoming increasingly demoralized,” said Jane Braun. “She’d get very upset when she would go to the bathroom in the house — it was completely humiliating for her — so Steve began sleeping out in the yard with her in a tent, which she could crawl in and out of when she needed to. But after a month of that, there was still no improvement, so I started looking for options.

“This was the first time we had to deal with the death of a pet, and we looked for something that would be less stressful for the dog, and most peaceful for all of us, in the worst of circumstances.”

She researched vets who would do home euthanasia and decided on Lap of Love, an organization that matches dog owners in need of home euthanasia with available vets.

“The vet was great,” she said. “She did an exam to determine if putting the dog down was appropriate, then she explained each part of the procedure. We got Feisty in a comfortable place, outside on the lawn in the sunshine. Feisty was at peace, not reacting in a way that was fear-based at all. It was hard to pull the trigger on making that decision, but I felt like the practitioners took the guiding and education component, so our focus was on sending love and support to this creature who had been in our lives for 10 years. She was calm, she was quiet, she was peaceful, in a familiar place surrounded by familiar people. She was lying in the grass with her head in Shannon’s lap. There was no moment of struggle, just calm.

“It was important for us to have our daughter Shannon present,” she continued. “She was 15, and this was a sad day, but it was also empowering because she got to be part of Feisty’s transition — she got to have that closure, and it was a positive experience, not a traumatic one.

“All their lives, our animals take care of us. They act as stewards in whatever way they can. We have to care enough about them to see what’s going on and become stewards for them when it’s time.”

Dr. Teresa Meekins is another mobile vet on the East End who often helps people through the final chapter of their pet’s life. Like Pepper, she said she totally understands when people contact her for help even when she’s not their regular vet, and other local vets often recommend her to clients looking for home euthanasia.

“I’m a big believer that they should be in their own surroundings when they go because it’s more comfortable for them. I’m also very big on letting other family pets be present so they can be part of the process. Obviously, there are exceptions and emergencies where you just can’t do it at home, but if you have a choice, I think it’s a better option. For cats especially,” Meekins adds, “most of them hate to leave the house,” so a vet trip is frightening under any circumstances.

When she gets a call for home euthanasia, Meekins said she asks some questions to make sure euthanasia is justified.

“I definitely ask them what’s the reason, what does your vet think,” she said. “I just like to make sure they’ve done everything. Sometimes people just don’t know that certain things can be treated and they panic.”

On the flip side, though, are the people concerned about pulling the trigger too soon. “I always say, if they’re not able to get up, if they’re urinating and defecating on themselves, that’s a big quality of life issue,” she said. “When the bad days start to outweigh the good days, you really have to make the decision. Some people say, ‘I don’t know what I’ll do without them,’ but you have to take yourself out of the equation and do what’s best for your pet.”

“Their whole lives, what they have done is loved you more than anything,” said Ellen Dioguardi, a Noyac resident who has chosen home euthanization for several pets, including her two Maine coon cats Jerry and Robbie.

“Jerry had a heart murmur that we hoped he’d grow out of, but when he was 4 it developed into hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” she said. “I came home one night and he was gurgling and having trouble breathing.”

Jerry’s vet, who declined to be interviewed, came to her house the next morning to euthanize him. Thirteen years later, he did the same for Robbie, another Maine Coon.

“I was lying next to him on the sofa when they euthanized him,” Dioguardi said. “The vet tech, who had always been there for my cats, was crying. The vet had tears in his eyes.”

“We are their voice, and if they’re suffering, we can end it,” said Dioguardi. “If there’s nothing we can do to keep them going and keep them out of pain, then that’s what we need to do. And If I can be there holding them and be the last thing they see, I’m doing that.”

A memory from Dioguardi’s childhood has been her guidepost.

“The first pet that I truly loved was a cat that got really sick on Easter Sunday,” she recalled. “We took her to the vet that Monday, and they wouldn’t let us be in the room when they put her down. I was devastated by that. I said goodbye to her in the waiting room and it was awful — it was 44 years ago, but I’ve never forgotten that. The next time I had to put a cat down, when I knew I had the opportunity to be with her, I had to. I didn’t want the pain of watching her go through a door and not being there for her. They don’t know what’s happening, they’re just thinking, ‘I’m being taken away from the person I love most in the world.’ How could that not be stressful for them?

“It sucks, but to me it’s less painful than the guilt I still feel over that one cat that I couldn’t be with,” she said. “I’m like the angel of death with my friends who have pets, because I’m always advocating for people to look at it this way: It’s the worst decision to have to make, but they want you there, they need you there.”