Saffy 2000-2010

Sorry, but blogging has not been a high priority recently... I guess 2010 will be remembered for the many occasions when we got hit with events that made it feel like the world had stopped for a while. The dawn arrival in June of the police at the door announcing Arch's sudden and tragic death and more recently, a morning phone call to share the scary news that Phoebe's mum had been diagnosed with a possible brain tumour. ( you can read some more follow up on that here).

As we coped with all of this we had another rude dawn awakening to a 7.1 earthquake and since then 1500 aftershocks which still rumble away regularly, even another 5.0 last week, .... and finally, last Saturday, the sudden death of our beautiful Saffy. She is back home now; ashes in a tasteful wooden box... on the windowsill of our bedroom, near her bed. We have shed many tears. The house seems so empty without the blonde bombshell and we particularly miss her wrinkly smile as she greeted us when we came home. It took me many mornings to realise I didn't need to straighten her bed in the morning or my partner to realise he didn't have to walk round her in the dark... . Jessie is quiet, but is finally eating again, tempted by meaty foods and cat biscuits.

My friend is going to buy me a rose in a pot ( yellow of course) so I can put her ashes in it and remember her each year when it blooms....

Meanwhile, I have been finally been able to look through all the photos and remember her in pictures. A very small consolation.... these things take time; lots of time.
Miss you Saff xxxx

Saffy 2000-2010

Sorry, but blogging has not been a high priority recently... I guess 2010 will be remembered for the many occasions when we got hit with events that made it feel like the world had stopped for a while. The dawn arrival in June of the police at the door announcing Arch's sudden and tragic death and more recently, a morning phone call to share the scary news that Phoebe's mum had been diagnosed with a possible brain tumour. ( you can read some more follow up on that here).

As we coped with all of this we had another rude dawn awakening to a 7.1 earthquake and since then 1500 aftershocks which still rumble away regularly, even another 5.0 last week, .... and finally, last Saturday, the sudden death of our beautiful Saffy. She is back home now; ashes in a tasteful wooden box... on the windowsill of our bedroom, near her bed. We have shed many tears. The house seems so empty without the blonde bombshell and we particularly miss her wrinkly smile as she greeted us when we came home. It took me many mornings to realise I didn't need to straighten her bed in the morning or my partner to realise he didn't have to walk round her in the dark... . Jessie is quiet, but is finally eating again, tempted by meaty foods and cat biscuits.

My friend is going to buy me a rose in a pot ( yellow of course) so I can put her ashes in it and remember her each year when it blooms....

Meanwhile, I have been finally been able to look through all the photos and remember her in pictures. A very small consolation.... these things take time; lots of time.
Miss you Saff xxxx

Note from a Dog

I didn;t write this... but thought it should be shared...

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.

You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.

We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.

Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her.

It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

Note from a Dog

I didn;t write this... but thought it should be shared...

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.

You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.

We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.

Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her.

It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

New Research on Veterinary Suicide Rate

I had a chat yesterday with a vet nurse that I used to work with many years ago in a distant New Zealand city. We both now work in Christchurch, but we spent some time reminiscing on the alcoholism and erratic behaviour of a past boss, and some of the other cases we have heard of concerning drugs and depression... all seemed quite normal, if sad. Today I read my copy of the latest NZ Veterinary Council Newsbrief... and found this information, which struck a particular chord after yesterday's chat!

A new paper in a recent issue of Veterinary Record by D J Bartram and D S Baldwin, finds that veterinary surgeons in the United Kingdom are four times as likely as the general public, and around twice as likely as other healthcare professionals, to die by suicide as opposed to other causes.

The paper ‘Veterinary surgeons and suicide: a structured review of possible influences on increased risk’ appears in the Veterinary Record, March 27 2010 pp 388-397.

The paper suggests that a complex interaction of possible mechanisms may occur across the course of a veterinary career to increase the risk of suicide. Possible factors include the characteristics of individuals entering the profession, negative effects during undergraduate training, work-related stressors, ready access to and knowledge of means, stigma associated with mental illness, professional and social isolation, and alcohol or drug misuse (mainly prescription drugs to which the profession has ready access). Contextual effects such as attitudes to death and euthanasia, formed through the profession’s routine involvement with euthanasia of companion animals and slaughter of farm animals, and suicide ‘contagion’ due to
direct or indirect exposure to suicide of peers within this small profession are other possible influences.

No similar research has been done here, but the Council’s Health Committee considers that the same risk factors exist in New Zealand.

Veterinary science by its very nature can expose its practitioners to a greater number of stressors and hazards than those encountered by the rest of the community. Stresses include the physical demands of the work, long hours, fatigue and sleep deprivation, debt, the demands of clients and external bodies and fear of litigation and complaints. Being able to manage the complex act of euthanasia of animals and accompanying grief management presents additional demands.

Veterinarians are also vulnerable to the same physical and psychological disorders as the rest of the community. These disorders occur in veterinarians just as often as in the general population and some such as suicide, alcohol and drug abuse and accidents occur more frequently.

It is therefore not surprising that some veterinarians are working under some degree of impairment. If professional help is not sought, it is often just a matter of time before serious problems occur.

There is help in New Zealand on identifying and managing stress.


www.vetcouncil.org.nz/vetsHealth.php
and some brochures:

http://www.vetcouncil.org.nz/documentation/06_Health_Brochure.pdf
Vets in Stress brochure - an excellent read, whatever your stress is caused by!

and in the UK - check out http://www.vetlife.org.uk/about/

I wrote about the impact of burnout and animal euthanasia last year too - http://fourpawsandwhiskers.blogspot.com/2009/07/animal-euthanasia-and-human-emotional.html

It is an issue we are very aware of when training veterinary nurses here and one of our techniques is to role play scenarios for dealing with animal euthanasia, angry clients, and level of involvement, to name a few topics. I am pleased to see that veterinary training is also using this technique to help graduates manage these issues...

Practice Imperfect


Using interactive theatre in veterinary education to promote mental health awareness
http://www.rvc.ac.uk/practiceimperfect/
 
 
According to Justin Schamotta, Uk Vet students are being warned of the risks:

Predisposition to Suicide Unclear

The predisposing factors are not clearly understood and it is probable that the selection process for veterinary school results in students with a high-risk profile. The course itself doesn't help either. In a presentation to the Veterinary Benevolent Fund, Dr. Jerry Lucke suggests that the demanding teaching programme, exclusion of social skills and self-awareness and the transition from security of the vet school to the business of practice all play a part. "The concern is real about suicide," he says. "The profession and the undergraduate students must understand the risks."

US equine journalist Candy Lawrence, author of Shock Central: Veterinarian Suicides agrees: "Veterinarians are minimally trained, if at all, in psychological issues to cope with the emotional states of their human clients. During vet school, little is addressed in terms of juggling financial aspects of running a practice or anything outside of the technical core complexities of clinical veterinary medicine."

Read more at Suite101: UK Veterinary Students Warned of Suicide Risk: Undergraduate Vets Embark on Potentially Fatal Career http://universities.suite101.com/article.cfm/veterinary_students_warned_of_suicide_risk#ixzz0mL6qIplY


From http://www.samaritans.org/media_centre/emotional_health_news/vets-likely-suicide-051.aspx

In a blog for the Telegraph, professional veterinarian Pete Wedderburn writes: "Thirteen suicides every year may not sound like a high number on a national scale, but when they happen in a small group like the veterinary profession, it's very significant."

According to the study, one of the main factors which may explain why suicide rates among this group are relatively high is the fact that many vets will know, or know of, a fellow vet who has died by suicide.

The report states: "Knowledge of individual suicides can travel readily through the social networks of a small profession.

"Direct or indirect exposure to the suicidal behaviour of others can influence attitudes and increase vulnerability to suicide."

Another key point identified by the researchers is that vets are routinely obliged to put down animals. This, they claim, not only gives them increased access to items such as lethal drugs and firearms (for the euthanasia of larger animals), but could also result in veterinarians becoming hardened to death.

In the Veterinary Record, they state: "Familiarity with death and dying may affect attitudes in regard to the expendability of life."

They add that this familiarity may make it easier for vets to detach themselves from the emotional impact of death, and thus begin to view suicide as a valid "solution to their own problems."

The researchers also found that many people entering the veterinary profession possess the personality traits of high academic achievers, which can include neuroticism and perfectionism – both of which are risk factors for suicide.

From the article http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/4310596.stm

another factor is that the means to help is always at hand... whether it is sharp tools, euthanasia solutions, or "helpers" in the form of valium, pethidine, morphine or ketamine....

"There doesn't seem to be an awareness that there is help out there for them."

She also said that there was a "stigma" attached to mental health issues.

To cope with the stresses, Dr Richmond said vets mainly turned to alcohol and drugs - including injecting horse tranquiliser ketamine, which they have ready access to.

"That's part of the problem - they are not having to go out and find it in any devious or dishonest way.

"It's sitting there on the shelves looking at them."

Which brings me back to the vet I used to work for... using alcohol to blot out the pain we never identified.
We can all help the professions, whether doctors, dentists, lawyers, vets or nurses... and the people we work with, by looking into why they are drinking or seem angry, erratic or upset.

But spare a thought for the staff who are putting your precious animal to sleep or losing it despite their best efforts, or you can no longer pay for them to do what they want to in order to save the pet.
Or just because you no longer want it.......

New Research on Veterinary Suicide Rate

I had a chat yesterday with a vet nurse that I used to work with many years ago in a distant New Zealand city. We both now work in Christchurch, but we spent some time reminiscing on the alcoholism and erratic behaviour of a past boss, and some of the other cases we have heard of concerning drugs and depression... all seemed quite normal, if sad. Today I read my copy of the latest NZ Veterinary Council Newsbrief... and found this information, which struck a particular chord after yesterday's chat!

A new paper in a recent issue of Veterinary Record by D J Bartram and D S Baldwin, finds that veterinary surgeons in the United Kingdom are four times as likely as the general public, and around twice as likely as other healthcare professionals, to die by suicide as opposed to other causes.

The paper ‘Veterinary surgeons and suicide: a structured review of possible influences on increased risk’ appears in the Veterinary Record, March 27 2010 pp 388-397.

The paper suggests that a complex interaction of possible mechanisms may occur across the course of a veterinary career to increase the risk of suicide. Possible factors include the characteristics of individuals entering the profession, negative effects during undergraduate training, work-related stressors, ready access to and knowledge of means, stigma associated with mental illness, professional and social isolation, and alcohol or drug misuse (mainly prescription drugs to which the profession has ready access). Contextual effects such as attitudes to death and euthanasia, formed through the profession’s routine involvement with euthanasia of companion animals and slaughter of farm animals, and suicide ‘contagion’ due to
direct or indirect exposure to suicide of peers within this small profession are other possible influences.

No similar research has been done here, but the Council’s Health Committee considers that the same risk factors exist in New Zealand.

Veterinary science by its very nature can expose its practitioners to a greater number of stressors and hazards than those encountered by the rest of the community. Stresses include the physical demands of the work, long hours, fatigue and sleep deprivation, debt, the demands of clients and external bodies and fear of litigation and complaints. Being able to manage the complex act of euthanasia of animals and accompanying grief management presents additional demands.

Veterinarians are also vulnerable to the same physical and psychological disorders as the rest of the community. These disorders occur in veterinarians just as often as in the general population and some such as suicide, alcohol and drug abuse and accidents occur more frequently.

It is therefore not surprising that some veterinarians are working under some degree of impairment. If professional help is not sought, it is often just a matter of time before serious problems occur.

There is help in New Zealand on identifying and managing stress.


www.vetcouncil.org.nz/vetsHealth.php
and some brochures:

http://www.vetcouncil.org.nz/documentation/06_Health_Brochure.pdf
Vets in Stress brochure - an excellent read, whatever your stress is caused by!

and in the UK - check out http://www.vetlife.org.uk/about/

I wrote about the impact of burnout and animal euthanasia last year too - http://fourpawsandwhiskers.blogspot.com/2009/07/animal-euthanasia-and-human-emotional.html

It is an issue we are very aware of when training veterinary nurses here and one of our techniques is to role play scenarios for dealing with animal euthanasia, angry clients, and level of involvement, to name a few topics. I am pleased to see that veterinary training is also using this technique to help graduates manage these issues...

Practice Imperfect


Using interactive theatre in veterinary education to promote mental health awareness
http://www.rvc.ac.uk/practiceimperfect/
 
 
According to Justin Schamotta, Uk Vet students are being warned of the risks:

Predisposition to Suicide Unclear

The predisposing factors are not clearly understood and it is probable that the selection process for veterinary school results in students with a high-risk profile. The course itself doesn't help either. In a presentation to the Veterinary Benevolent Fund, Dr. Jerry Lucke suggests that the demanding teaching programme, exclusion of social skills and self-awareness and the transition from security of the vet school to the business of practice all play a part. "The concern is real about suicide," he says. "The profession and the undergraduate students must understand the risks."

US equine journalist Candy Lawrence, author of Shock Central: Veterinarian Suicides agrees: "Veterinarians are minimally trained, if at all, in psychological issues to cope with the emotional states of their human clients. During vet school, little is addressed in terms of juggling financial aspects of running a practice or anything outside of the technical core complexities of clinical veterinary medicine."

Read more at Suite101: UK Veterinary Students Warned of Suicide Risk: Undergraduate Vets Embark on Potentially Fatal Career http://universities.suite101.com/article.cfm/veterinary_students_warned_of_suicide_risk#ixzz0mL6qIplY


From http://www.samaritans.org/media_centre/emotional_health_news/vets-likely-suicide-051.aspx

In a blog for the Telegraph, professional veterinarian Pete Wedderburn writes: "Thirteen suicides every year may not sound like a high number on a national scale, but when they happen in a small group like the veterinary profession, it's very significant."

According to the study, one of the main factors which may explain why suicide rates among this group are relatively high is the fact that many vets will know, or know of, a fellow vet who has died by suicide.

The report states: "Knowledge of individual suicides can travel readily through the social networks of a small profession.

"Direct or indirect exposure to the suicidal behaviour of others can influence attitudes and increase vulnerability to suicide."

Another key point identified by the researchers is that vets are routinely obliged to put down animals. This, they claim, not only gives them increased access to items such as lethal drugs and firearms (for the euthanasia of larger animals), but could also result in veterinarians becoming hardened to death.

In the Veterinary Record, they state: "Familiarity with death and dying may affect attitudes in regard to the expendability of life."

They add that this familiarity may make it easier for vets to detach themselves from the emotional impact of death, and thus begin to view suicide as a valid "solution to their own problems."

The researchers also found that many people entering the veterinary profession possess the personality traits of high academic achievers, which can include neuroticism and perfectionism – both of which are risk factors for suicide.

From the article http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/4310596.stm

another factor is that the means to help is always at hand... whether it is sharp tools, euthanasia solutions, or "helpers" in the form of valium, pethidine, morphine or ketamine....

"There doesn't seem to be an awareness that there is help out there for them."

She also said that there was a "stigma" attached to mental health issues.

To cope with the stresses, Dr Richmond said vets mainly turned to alcohol and drugs - including injecting horse tranquiliser ketamine, which they have ready access to.

"That's part of the problem - they are not having to go out and find it in any devious or dishonest way.

"It's sitting there on the shelves looking at them."

Which brings me back to the vet I used to work for... using alcohol to blot out the pain we never identified.
We can all help the professions, whether doctors, dentists, lawyers, vets or nurses... and the people we work with, by looking into why they are drinking or seem angry, erratic or upset.

But spare a thought for the staff who are putting your precious animal to sleep or losing it despite their best efforts, or you can no longer pay for them to do what they want to in order to save the pet.
Or just because you no longer want it.......

Animal euthanasia and human emotional burnout

Emotional burn out of animal rescue and veterinary staff is becoming an increasingly common issue around the world. I don't suppose the global recession is helping as more owners are abandoning pets, or refusing to pay for surgical procedures.

I found a blog recently... it was simple and to the point and lingered in my mind... and last night, in a discussion relating to fish farming, I remembered it again. I don't suppose this person expects this blog to be widely read. It is a coping mechanism; a small memory of each life that passes through their hands. I am sure many who work in our industry will relate to it.

What I Killed Today - I work with a lot of injured wildlife. Also not wild animals that are just in a lot of pain. Sometimes I have to euthanize them. I decided to record each animal I euthanize here.
The reference to the fish farming came here

Next a male is removed from the water. He is clubbed, in theory, to death on the floor then the sperm is milked out of him. His body is thrown out the window into a pile on the ground.

I refused to participate. The instructor, disappointed and possibly angry, said "you're going to have to kill something sometime." I rolled my eyes. I stepped outside to avoid ridicule and realized that many of the male fish lying on the ground were still alive. I told one of the hatchery workers and he came out and half-heartedly clubbed one again. It was still moving. While it may have just been postmortem nerve reflexes, it still unsettled me so I spent the next hour cutting the heads off the fish as they were tossed out the window to ensure they were dead rather than have them suffocate to death. The knife they gave me was dull and it took all my strength to cut through.

So, honestly, I don't know if I killed anything today but it still felt as bad, if not worse, than any euthanasia I've ever performed.

So this got me thinking today as I teach Grief Management to my classes . ....which is about learning to deal with euthanasia and grief - for both their clients and themselves. People enter animal industries because they want to work with animals. They don't want to watch them die. And yet they do....

Coping with Euthanasia

Animal Control Officers and shelter workers routinely deal with many challenges besides euthanasia: cruelty, ignorance and carelessness towards animals; hostility from the public; disrespect for their skill, commitment and love of animals. Of all these stressors, however, euthanasia is the most heart wrenching and unique to animal care work. No other profession asks people to end lives of those they deeply care about and want to help.

Euthanasia: A Veterinary Technicians Perspective

Each one hurts us, too. In fact, veterinarians and technicians alike tend to suffer more burn out in this field than in most jobs. It’s an emotional field to work in. It is not exactly professional for us to break down crying for each pet, and we try to keep in our minds that this is the right thing, but we see the owner’s suffering, we see the bond- whether it’s your first and last visit in one, whether this was something unexpected when you pulled in, or whether you made this appointment last week. We can see it in your face, hear it in your voice- we know how it feels because we love our pets so dearly and know how strong your bond is with your loved pet- each and every single euthanasia is a heartbreak for us, and we feel your pains.

 

Shelter workers pay a high price of traumatic stress and compassion fatigue

I believe that the majority of front line workers in animal welfare organizations suffer from traumatic stress and compassion fatigue. Why? Because the work is the most emotionally complex and morally challenging of any trauma worker role in our society. Remember, compassion fatigue is different from burnout in that the cause of compassion fatigue is always related to caring about, taking care of, or exposure to trauma victims, while burnout can result from any type of stress. Compassion fatigue is unique to certain roles and situations.

The factors impacting the severity of these traumatic stress symptoms include: the duration of the experience/exposure, potential for recurrence, degree of exposure to death, dying and destruction, degree of moral conflict inherent in the situation, and the extent to which the role is direct or indirect. Every one of these factors exists in the shelter/animal control/rescue workers job:
Caring for traumatized animals is a daily event, not occasional. It is on going, not episodic.
Exposure to death is frequent at many shelters
Degree of moral conflict is extremely high for humans who deeply love animals and are in a role of choosing who will live and who may die, and are in the role of personally performing euthanasia
Their role is seeing these animal victims of trauma is direct and hands on, along with direct and on-going exposure to the very perpetrators of animal abandonment, neglect or abuse

 Convenience Euthanasia - Just say no

What price do we pay for convenience euthanasia?

The highest rate of suicide in our profession in America involves workers who euthanize dogs and cats in animal shelters and pounds on a daily basis.

Researchers from the University of Southampton School of Medicine in Hampshire, England, report that the rate of suicide in veterinarians in the UK is four times that of the general public and twice that of doctors and dentists.

Richard Mellanby, David Bartram and David Baldwin published this sad information in the October 2005 issue of the UK’s journal Veterinary Record. They listed several factors that influence suicide in their  veterinary surgeons, such as access to lethal drugs, euthanasia being an encouraged and justified procedure, job dissatisfaction, job stress and predisposition to depression.

Is there anything we can do?
I liked these suggestions from Cornell University and the Maddie's^® Shelter Medicine Program at Cornell
Working with Veterinarians
Introduction

The simple truth is that enacting real change in our communities regarding the welfare and disposition of homeless pets requires participation from us all. We all have to work together in positive and effective strategies to non-lethally control the pet surplus. Veterinarians are uniquely positioned to participate and to take leadership roles in these efforts. These roles include: helping to increasing adoptions (through direction of shelter medical programs and building strong relations with shelters and the public), increasing sterilization of pets (in shelters and in practice--including feral cats), and increasing owner-retention of pets (through applied behavior counseling and permanent identification (microchipping) in practice).

 Good on Hills pet Food for running workshops
Compassion Fatigue and Burnout Workshop
Highlighted in Animal Sheltering Magazine, published by the Humane Society of the United States, SSACP's highly praised Compassion Fatigue and Burnout Workshop helps animal care professionals deal with the feelings that often lead to fatigue and burnout. The workshop provides a safe, confidential, supportive environment to address these feelings and restore hope, energy and enthusiasm.

And you, as members of the public, pet owners etc, can acknowledge the good work these people do, daily....

Animal in our Hearts

Have you ever wondered why people work at animal shelters? Have you ever thought or said, "Oh I couldn't work there, I love animals too much"? Interestingly, in response to both written surveys and verbal exercises in workshops I've conducted, involving several hundred shelter employees since 1995, the number one reason shelter workers have given over and over again for working in shelters is "because I love animals". They work there because they love animals, despite the pain and heartache they witness and feel themselves.

The next time you find yourself in a conversation with an animal shelter worker (or animal control officer or humane officer), instead of saying, "Oh I couldn't do your job, I love animals too much", try saying, "You must love animals a great deal to do the work you do." This type of comment, this acknowledgment, will go a long way toward boosting the morale of the people who care for the abused, neglected and abandoned animals of your community.

 So to the person who started the What I Killed Today Blog
Thank you for reminding me that they are all worthy of being remembered.

Now that I ave made myself cry, I apologise if I have upset you in any way, or unearthed memories and fears for anyone reading it...  losing a pet is never easy and their memories live on in your hears forever. Perhaps they go "Into The West"... like Frodo and Bilbo...

This moving piece was written for New Zealander Cameron Duncan ((April 20, 1986 – November 12, 2003) .. and then used in The Lord of The Rings... see lyrics below the video clip :)

Into The West

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end

Sleep now
Dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore

Why do you weep
What are these tears upon your face
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call

Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time

Don't say
We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call

Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the west

Animal euthanasia and human emotional burnout

Emotional burn out of animal rescue and veterinary staff is becoming an increasingly common issue around the world. I don't suppose the global recession is helping as more owners are abandoning pets, or refusing to pay for surgical procedures.

I found a blog recently... it was simple and to the point and lingered in my mind... and last night, in a discussion relating to fish farming, I remembered it again. I don't suppose this person expects this blog to be widely read. It is a coping mechanism; a small memory of each life that passes through their hands. I am sure many who work in our industry will relate to it.

What I Killed Today - I work with a lot of injured wildlife. Also not wild animals that are just in a lot of pain. Sometimes I have to euthanize them. I decided to record each animal I euthanize here.
The reference to the fish farming came here

Next a male is removed from the water. He is clubbed, in theory, to death on the floor then the sperm is milked out of him. His body is thrown out the window into a pile on the ground.

I refused to participate. The instructor, disappointed and possibly angry, said "you're going to have to kill something sometime." I rolled my eyes. I stepped outside to avoid ridicule and realized that many of the male fish lying on the ground were still alive. I told one of the hatchery workers and he came out and half-heartedly clubbed one again. It was still moving. While it may have just been postmortem nerve reflexes, it still unsettled me so I spent the next hour cutting the heads off the fish as they were tossed out the window to ensure they were dead rather than have them suffocate to death. The knife they gave me was dull and it took all my strength to cut through.

So, honestly, I don't know if I killed anything today but it still felt as bad, if not worse, than any euthanasia I've ever performed.

So this got me thinking today as I teach Grief Management to my classes . ....which is about learning to deal with euthanasia and grief - for both their clients and themselves. People enter animal industries because they want to work with animals. They don't want to watch them die. And yet they do....

Coping with Euthanasia

Animal Control Officers and shelter workers routinely deal with many challenges besides euthanasia: cruelty, ignorance and carelessness towards animals; hostility from the public; disrespect for their skill, commitment and love of animals. Of all these stressors, however, euthanasia is the most heart wrenching and unique to animal care work. No other profession asks people to end lives of those they deeply care about and want to help.

Euthanasia: A Veterinary Technicians Perspective

Each one hurts us, too. In fact, veterinarians and technicians alike tend to suffer more burn out in this field than in most jobs. It’s an emotional field to work in. It is not exactly professional for us to break down crying for each pet, and we try to keep in our minds that this is the right thing, but we see the owner’s suffering, we see the bond- whether it’s your first and last visit in one, whether this was something unexpected when you pulled in, or whether you made this appointment last week. We can see it in your face, hear it in your voice- we know how it feels because we love our pets so dearly and know how strong your bond is with your loved pet- each and every single euthanasia is a heartbreak for us, and we feel your pains.

 

Shelter workers pay a high price of traumatic stress and compassion fatigue

I believe that the majority of front line workers in animal welfare organizations suffer from traumatic stress and compassion fatigue. Why? Because the work is the most emotionally complex and morally challenging of any trauma worker role in our society. Remember, compassion fatigue is different from burnout in that the cause of compassion fatigue is always related to caring about, taking care of, or exposure to trauma victims, while burnout can result from any type of stress. Compassion fatigue is unique to certain roles and situations.

The factors impacting the severity of these traumatic stress symptoms include: the duration of the experience/exposure, potential for recurrence, degree of exposure to death, dying and destruction, degree of moral conflict inherent in the situation, and the extent to which the role is direct or indirect. Every one of these factors exists in the shelter/animal control/rescue workers job:
Caring for traumatized animals is a daily event, not occasional. It is on going, not episodic.
Exposure to death is frequent at many shelters
Degree of moral conflict is extremely high for humans who deeply love animals and are in a role of choosing who will live and who may die, and are in the role of personally performing euthanasia
Their role is seeing these animal victims of trauma is direct and hands on, along with direct and on-going exposure to the very perpetrators of animal abandonment, neglect or abuse

 Convenience Euthanasia - Just say no

What price do we pay for convenience euthanasia?

The highest rate of suicide in our profession in America involves workers who euthanize dogs and cats in animal shelters and pounds on a daily basis.

Researchers from the University of Southampton School of Medicine in Hampshire, England, report that the rate of suicide in veterinarians in the UK is four times that of the general public and twice that of doctors and dentists.

Richard Mellanby, David Bartram and David Baldwin published this sad information in the October 2005 issue of the UK’s journal Veterinary Record. They listed several factors that influence suicide in their  veterinary surgeons, such as access to lethal drugs, euthanasia being an encouraged and justified procedure, job dissatisfaction, job stress and predisposition to depression.

Is there anything we can do?
I liked these suggestions from Cornell University and the Maddie's^® Shelter Medicine Program at Cornell
Working with Veterinarians
Introduction

The simple truth is that enacting real change in our communities regarding the welfare and disposition of homeless pets requires participation from us all. We all have to work together in positive and effective strategies to non-lethally control the pet surplus. Veterinarians are uniquely positioned to participate and to take leadership roles in these efforts. These roles include: helping to increasing adoptions (through direction of shelter medical programs and building strong relations with shelters and the public), increasing sterilization of pets (in shelters and in practice--including feral cats), and increasing owner-retention of pets (through applied behavior counseling and permanent identification (microchipping) in practice).

 Good on Hills pet Food for running workshops
Compassion Fatigue and Burnout Workshop
Highlighted in Animal Sheltering Magazine, published by the Humane Society of the United States, SSACP's highly praised Compassion Fatigue and Burnout Workshop helps animal care professionals deal with the feelings that often lead to fatigue and burnout. The workshop provides a safe, confidential, supportive environment to address these feelings and restore hope, energy and enthusiasm.

And you, as members of the public, pet owners etc, can acknowledge the good work these people do, daily....

Animal in our Hearts

Have you ever wondered why people work at animal shelters? Have you ever thought or said, "Oh I couldn't work there, I love animals too much"? Interestingly, in response to both written surveys and verbal exercises in workshops I've conducted, involving several hundred shelter employees since 1995, the number one reason shelter workers have given over and over again for working in shelters is "because I love animals". They work there because they love animals, despite the pain and heartache they witness and feel themselves.

The next time you find yourself in a conversation with an animal shelter worker (or animal control officer or humane officer), instead of saying, "Oh I couldn't do your job, I love animals too much", try saying, "You must love animals a great deal to do the work you do." This type of comment, this acknowledgment, will go a long way toward boosting the morale of the people who care for the abused, neglected and abandoned animals of your community.

 So to the person who started the What I Killed Today Blog
Thank you for reminding me that they are all worthy of being remembered.

Now that I ave made myself cry, I apologise if I have upset you in any way, or unearthed memories and fears for anyone reading it...  losing a pet is never easy and their memories live on in your hears forever. Perhaps they go "Into The West"... like Frodo and Bilbo...

This moving piece was written for New Zealander Cameron Duncan ((April 20, 1986 – November 12, 2003) .. and then used in The Lord of The Rings... see lyrics below the video clip :)

Into The West

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end

Sleep now
Dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore

Why do you weep
What are these tears upon your face
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call

Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time

Don't say
We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call

Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the west

Knowing when the time is right

Have read two things today that made me feel a little reflective. One was Suldog's post celebrating his grandmother..."Ma". The other was A Vet's Guide to Life's recent post.

I felt moved to respond to Chris's post - but identify hugely with Suldog's too. I just haven't commented there yet

I left this for Chris......

You have captured our vet dilemna perfectly.... and I have been there twice. I have many pets, but only two of them have been really special for me. The ones I truly grieved for. One 16 yr old dog, one younger cat with nephrosis. They both declined slowly, they both required decisions from me - no quick or sudden leaving. I put both of them to sleep at home. Myself. When I was ready. No fear, no stress, and they trusted me to the end.
All I can say - although I agonised over it, and dreaded the day, and grieved in advance, when the time came, there was no problem. All my years of vet training and experience told me when the moment arrived, that this was the last thing I could do, that to continue was selfish on my part, and that I could let them go in this way. I had the knowledge, the power and the ability...and I have never regretted it!
I do feel for you - it never gets easier....

Jenny - our beautiful black labrador x...
Very grainy...

Pickles... our beautiful ginger tabby.

RIP.

I went to look for some decent pictures of Jenny... they are all on real photo paper - been a while now.  I was also hoping to find the "ghost picture" we found - after accidentally running a film through twice and superimposing the shots, of Pickles sitting on his own grave, flowers and all..... was rather spooky at the time!! Anyway - I didn't find it, or any of Jenny that do her real justice.... Instead I found a treasure trove of pictures...boy, Facebook is going to get a hammering... and many many years of nostalgia... from England and primary school, high school in New Zealand, university, marriage, parents, life pre-kids, with kids, the kids, their friends, their dates, our old friends, lots of our various houses, holidays, adventures, birthdays, and the myriad of events that make up all our lives. I feel quite shaky - a potted history of emotion condensed into about 40 minutes of searching! It helps to put today's stresses and worries into some perspective; lives change, people move, kids grow, relationships change, people change, jobs change... and we are still here, still fighting, still growing! What's a bad day now and then!!!

Knowing when the time is right

Have read two things today that made me feel a little reflective. One was Suldog's post celebrating his grandmother..."Ma". The other was A Vet's Guide to Life's recent post.

I felt moved to respond to Chris's post - but identify hugely with Suldog's too. I just haven't commented there yet

I left this for Chris......

You have captured our vet dilemna perfectly.... and I have been there twice. I have many pets, but only two of them have been really special for me. The ones I truly grieved for. One 16 yr old dog, one younger cat with nephrosis. They both declined slowly, they both required decisions from me - no quick or sudden leaving. I put both of them to sleep at home. Myself. When I was ready. No fear, no stress, and they trusted me to the end.
All I can say - although I agonised over it, and dreaded the day, and grieved in advance, when the time came, there was no problem. All my years of vet training and experience told me when the moment arrived, that this was the last thing I could do, that to continue was selfish on my part, and that I could let them go in this way. I had the knowledge, the power and the ability...and I have never regretted it!
I do feel for you - it never gets easier....

Jenny - our beautiful black labrador x...
Very grainy...

Pickles... our beautiful ginger tabby.

RIP.

I went to look for some decent pictures of Jenny... they are all on real photo paper - been a while now.  I was also hoping to find the "ghost picture" we found - after accidentally running a film through twice and superimposing the shots, of Pickles sitting on his own grave, flowers and all..... was rather spooky at the time!! Anyway - I didn't find it, or any of Jenny that do her real justice.... Instead I found a treasure trove of pictures...boy, Facebook is going to get a hammering... and many many years of nostalgia... from England and primary school, high school in New Zealand, university, marriage, parents, life pre-kids, with kids, the kids, their friends, their dates, our old friends, lots of our various houses, holidays, adventures, birthdays, and the myriad of events that make up all our lives. I feel quite shaky - a potted history of emotion condensed into about 40 minutes of searching! It helps to put today's stresses and worries into some perspective; lives change, people move, kids grow, relationships change, people change, jobs change... and we are still here, still fighting, still growing! What's a bad day now and then!!!