My Take Tuesday: The Hardest Part of My Job

Death and dying are subjects that many find difficult to confront. For some, they awaken the ache of past losses; for others, they serve as sobering reminders of our own mortality and that of those we hold dear.

As a veterinarian, despite my utmost efforts, I inevitably face the loss of patients. In these moments, I am privy to the diverse emotions of the families who cherished them. Some display their grief openly, while others reserve their sorrow for private moments. Each individual’s reaction is unique—there is no right or wrong way to grieve. I endeavor to honor and accept that everyone mourns in their own manner and time, offering support to my clients during these challenging periods.

Of all the challenges in my profession, facing death—particularly when euthanasia becomes the kindest option—is among the most difficult. I see the anguish in the eyes of families as they prepare to part with a cherished companion. The depth of love between them is often so palpable that I, too, am moved to tears.

Though I do not carry the weight of their years together—the whispered words, the knowing glances, the silent companionship—I do feel the echoes of their love. Over time, my profession has granted me a profound understanding of grief—both my own and that of the families whose pets I have had the privilege to care for.

Enduring this day after day, year after year, is no small burden. Many veterinarians wrestle with emotional exhaustion, moral distress, and a level of compassion fatigue that few outside the profession fully comprehend. The staggering reality is that veterinarians face a suicide rate 2 – 4 times higher than that of the general public.

Beyond the heartbreak of loss, we face moral dilemmas that human medicine rarely encounters. I have counseled clients forced to choose between a life-saving procedure for their pet and paying their mortgage. I have fought for patients who, despite the best care, still slip away. I have witnessed the horrors of animal cruelty and the weight of those moments lingers.

When these pressures collide with relentless hours and the demands of being on call, it is easy to understand how overwhelming the weight of this work can become.

Yet, I choose to focus on the kindness—the people who rescue, protect, and love. It is this that sustains me. I consider myself profoundly fortunate to work with clients who are compassionate, devoted, and selfless in their love for their animals. The trust they place in me is not something I take lightly, and each day, I strive to honor it.

The loss of a pet is never trivial, nor is it something one simply moves past. In many cases, the bond between a person and their pet surpasses even some human relationships. Society may not always acknowledge the depth of that grief, but I do.

While I may not have shared in every moment of your pet’s life, please know that I see your pain, I honor your love, and I grieve with you. Helping you navigate these difficult decisions is never easy, but it is a responsibility I hold close to my heart.

If you have endured such a loss, know that my heart aches for you.

Losing a beloved companion is one of life’s deepest sorrows—but love, I believe, transcends even death. The bond between human and animal endures, stretching beyond the rainbow bridge, between this life and the next.

And that is My Take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM