It was a life and death drama.
Practicing in the only health profession sanctioned to end life, Dr. Mary Welle vividly recalls the case.
It might not have been her first euthanasia, but there are some that "just stay with you."
On this Saturday morning, a Golden Retriever, now weighing in at 50 pounds, suffered from end-stage intestinal lymphoma. For
one family, this Urbana, Ill., practice sat at the center of the universe as they contemplated life and death decisions.
With it came the natural and predictable emotional flood that follows this type of trauma. The decision. The stress. The emotion.
The guilt. The grief.
There were children present — 8 and 10 years old. Like so many others in veterinary practices, it was their first experience
As for this doctor and mother, Welle was touched by the emotion of the case, wishing that she had known the family and dog
better, clearly a job hazard.
Her tears flowed with the euthanasia solution.
It's the kind of story played out routinely by veterinarians in this country. And it can rank, DVMs say, as one of the most
difficult tasks of practice.
In the course of a consultation, veterinarians are asked to diagnose, heal, offer emotional support — possibly hope — while
simultaneously bargain for the costs of care, offer a prognosis, end a life and discuss burial and disposal.
Personally, each case poses its own ethical dilemmas: When should you euthanize? At what cost do you recommend it? Do you
refer? Is the euthanasia medically justifiable? If not, do you accept it's ultimately a client decision? If asked to perform
convenience euthanasia, would you comply with the client request? Is the animal adoptable? Is a home death acceptable if the
pain is managed?
While the price tag is clearly rising on advanced medical treatment, so too has veterinary medicine's ability to prolong life
through technological innovation, drug therapies and advances in care. While most veterinarians view euthanasia as a gift
offered to terminally ill patients, there are many parallels in the right to die debate engulfing human medicine. While it's
not being dubbed as an alternative to euthanasia, veterinary hospice service is emerging as another model. Throw in anecdotal
reports that some veterinarians have referred patients to local shelters rather than perform euthanasia on sick animals, and
the embers are stoked on a slew of ethical questions regarding this profession's role as healer and compassionate killer.
Bernard Rollin, a Colorado State University ethicist, says it this way: "Oh, we are there. And it's being discussed."
Social forces are also at work asking, in some cases requiring veterinarians to become more of an advocate for the pet, reports
Dr. Annette Rauch, a clinical assistant professor at Tufts' Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine.
The result creates conflict.
"What is best for the animal is not what is always best for the owner," Rauch says.
"There is a big range of what individual veterinarians feel comfortable in doing. It seems that younger veterinarians are
falling on the side of limited to no convenience euthanasia."
According to multiple sources, the newest generation would much rather serve the pet if it came to a question of convenience
euthanasia — a change in attitude from the generation of veterinarians who were taught to serve the pet owner.
But the ethical dilemmas posed by euthanasia, Rauch reports, are nothing shy of gray and inherently unique to each case.
"Some people are legitimately poor," Rauch says. "They can't spend $3,000 on veterinary care. So, we come into conflict. The
animal could benefit from surgery, yet the owner simply doesn't have the means to do the right thing."
Dr. Victoria Young, who works in a six-doctor practice in Caldwell, Idaho, says while infrequent, she is asked to perform
convenience euthanasia if owner-requested. It could be a behavior problem or a change in family status, but she complies with