On April 3, 2015, I met my appointed time of 1700 at Nottingham Animal Clinic on Memorial Drive for the euthanasia of my terminally ill dog Digo. She had been diagnosed earlier in the week by Dr. Howl... Read More
On April 3, 2015, I met my appointed time of 1700 at Nottingham Animal Clinic on Memorial Drive for the euthanasia of my terminally ill dog Digo. She had been diagnosed earlier in the week by Dr. Howland as having an oral metastatic melanoma that had already progressed into the lymph glands. It was progressing rapidly, as her closest lymph node has enlarged from pea size to grape size in just five days. We were in agreement that euthanasia was the only recourse. Prior to this, not only had I witnessed the peaceful euthanization of my ex wife's dog in January 2015, I make it a policy to read up on any procedures that may cross my path from time to time. And while I saw anecdotal references to procedures that had gone wrong, absolutely nothing I read prepared me for what was about to occur.I signed the liability agreement and she went briefly over the procedure, which I had already familiarized myself with online. As the vet prepared the injections, the assistant prepared the catheter in her right front paw. The vet entered and apologized for the delay, as they had to quickly perform an emergency euthanasia prior to my dog's procedure.Digo was placed on a blanket and the first of two injections followed, ostensibly to get the dog to relax. As the second injection was administered, the syringe gave way under pressure, causing about ¼ of the contents to be injected, the rest of the contents spraying over myself, the assistant & the vet. She immediately left the room for about 3 minutes by my watch, during which time Digo reacted to her injection of the first drug, and possibly the amount of the second drug. She struggled to get up & move. Both the assistant & I held Digo on the blanket. The vet re-entered the room with a second syringe and quickly inserted it into the catheter. She administered the second syringe very quickly, about one half second. At that moment, Digo lifted her body off of the floor, started shaking severely, then arched her back & threw her head up and let out a horrific howl, the likes I have personally heard only on occasions when an animal has been struck by a car or other traumatic incidents. During this extremely emotion outburst, the vet repeatedly told me that the dog was not in pain, merely experiencing what she referred to as a "respiratory release". I am unable to locate the term "respiratory release" in any medical lexicon I have since read. About pain. As a retired State Trooper Supervisor with 20 years on the highway, I have experienced and witnessed a bit of pain. What I saw coming from my dog is referred to as a "Death Rattle", no two ways about it.My dog Digo however, has never whimpered, whined or cried out in pain the entire 15+ years she was alive. Even having a terminal case of cancer was not able to get her to cry out with normal handling and treatment. She only barked at strangers, which diminished greatly with the onset of blindness & deafness.I cannot possibly comment on the vet's training and knowledge of the procedure of euthanasia, however after the syringe sprayed the room with the sodium penthiolate and perhaps to feeling rushed, she forced the plunger to empty the syringe in one half second or less, which may have introduced the very viscous liquid in the dog much faster that normal. I removed the failed syringe from the office just to see how viscous the liquid was. It was quite thicker than water & very sticky.For person half my age trying to tell me that what I was witnessing is not what it very obviously is belies the facts and quite frankly is delusional. She can try to tell herself what she thinks it is, but I have seen enough in 20 years of law enforcement, and 60 years of life in general to know that my dog died in extreme, life sucking pain and absolutely nothing can or will change my mind or that fact. She also told me that her dog experienced a similar demise, which means to me that she might not have the procedure perfected. Several papers I read suggested that the attending veterinarian should always carry a second dose or vial of the drug on them for just this kind of emergency. This vet did not, but I'll bet she will in the future. She may be an excellent Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, but on April 3, 2015 she was responsible for a very horrible death of a wonderful companion and very sweet little dog named Digo Dunn. It utterly leaves a bitter memory of a loyal and loving dog that represented one fourth of my entire life, that wanted only to be with her Master, and all I wanted was for Digo to pass without pain. It is not a memory that I cherish to take to my grave. Read Less