Saying Goodbye- The White Candle
It was my turn for the white candle yesterday. The duality of a veterinarian’s office serves both the visits that are intended to keep and promote the return of our pets to a state of health and the one visit where there is nothing more that can be done than to end the suffering that cannot be fixed. The contrast between the excitement of a visit to bring a new puppy in for a wellness check versus the last one for an old companion who won’t be coming home with you that day is quite drastic. I honestly don’t know how our vet can turn from gushing over a vibrant 1 year old dog in one exam room to then come to another and administer the care that will end a 14 year old dog’s life. It is even more challenging against the backdrop of oblivious owners who are rightfully focused on the pet that they brought in that day. The contrast in emotion is so extreme that our vet has deployed a signal that at least makes those in the lobby aware. A simple white candle is lit when there is someone there to say goodbye.
Once I was educated about its purpose, I would always look for the white candle on my vet trips so at least I could make an extra effort to be sensitive to what someone else was going through that day. I knew deep down that one day it would have to be lit for me. I figured the very least I could do was offer others the same respect. I wouldn’t dwell much on it beyond that (especially if it wasn’t lit) and certainly didn’t want to dwell on it ever applying to my dog. We made lots of vet trips over the last almost 14 years with Dexter but yesterday when I walked past and saw it lit, it was for him.
I have never been down this road before with a pet. I have experienced the loss of pets at various times in my life but this was the first one that I was there from almost the very beginning until I had a say in when the journey would end. Dexter was a Christmas present for our daughter back in 2009. A dog was all she asked for that year. After quite a bit of debate and coming to grips with what this really would mean in terms of a commitment, we found her one and surprised her by picking him up with her at the breeder. Despite our best efforts to anticipate what this would mean to our household, I wasn’t fully prepared for the impact that decision would have on me. The hole in my heart he has left behind wasn’t there before the candle was lit but it’s a big one that I don’t expect can ever be filled.
His health had been declining and we knew the journey was closer to the end than the beginning but it still doesn’t truly prepare you for the loss of such a constant in your life. I got up this morning to a vast emptiness that was once occupied by my furry four legged companion. We would start almost every morning with a walk and come back in to me feeding him his breakfast. The regime got more involved over the last several years adding in more medicines that now needed to be included with his food but Dexter was there to start my day. He would often peer out the glass door and bark at the passing things he saw in the distance. He would knock the bell hanging just by the door to tell us he needed to be taken outside. The sound of his clicking nails on the floor as he walked on the hard floors or his heavy breathing as he slept were a constant reminder of his presence. It has all been replaced today by my sobbing as I process that those familiar sounds will now remain silent.
The hardest part of all of this is that I had to decide it was time to light the white candle. How does one come to grips with making the decision to end the life of something you love? I take solace in the fact that it is that same love that gave me the strength to offer him the end to his suffering and pain. Being selfish was not an option. It was hard but it was the right thing to do. I saw someone say when looking for some advice online during this process that said something to the effect of it being better to be one day too early than one day too late. I’m trying to focus now on all the days I did have with him rather than the ones I might have had. He was never alone on this part of the journey; I was right there with him to the very end. They did light the white candle for you. Goodbye, Dexter.
