top of page
Search

Redeemed Faith in Pet Hospice Care

  • ipgreatergood
  • 7 days ago
  • 3 min read
I believe divine timing is always present if you pay attention. The last several weeks have been filled with synchronicities validating this premise. Synchronicities for me are a daily occurrence. But for the friends that know me well, they are continuously amazed by how I communicate and co-create with the universe. I'm not certain if this ability of straddling both dimensions of time and space stems from a heightened awareness? Or if it's how most creatives interpret the world around them. My guess is it has to do with my 25 year tenure in end-of-life care.

Take yesterday for example and the weeks leading up to it. My dear 14 year old cat, Whisper had been showing signs of decline. On an unconscious level, I began preparing myself for her impending loss. My first blog post was about what animals teach us about death, dying, and dignity. In that post I expressed my skepticism of hospice care for pets. My first introduction to hospice for pets was in 2001, 5 years before I left veterinary health to work with people in palliative care and hospice. A lot has changed since then.

Yesterday I reached out to Lap of Love Hospice, an organization devoted to helping pet owners and their beloved pets say goodbye with love, dignity and respect. Prior to my call, Whisper had taken a turn for the worse, and she was clearly telling me it was time to let go. As I told the kind and compassionate veterinarian who came to my house to honor my request of euthanasia, it's one thing working in the veterinary field ministering to clients whose beloved pets are approaching end-of-life, but its all together different when the pet you are ministering to is your own. As I write, my heart is heavy with grief. But one thing that continues to bring me comfort, is how peaceful her transition was at home surrounded by the people she loved, and in her own environment.

My ability to tune in to the energy of people and pets is a gift. It took me some time to accept this and years to fine tune it. What I do with my ministry with music is very similar to what the veterinarian did yesterday with Whisper. As you work in end of life care, especially for pets, the communication is non-verbal. You act as a vessel transmitting energetic love through your intention. My medium just happens to be an acoustic guitar with voice accompaniment. I'm not exactly sure when I knew I had an affinity for this work. Perhaps I was born with it, but it didn't show itself publicly until I began working with the elderly population in York County. If you read my first blog post, you know that I played music for the pets hospitalized at our veterinary clinic in various stages of death and dying. The music I performed, mostly lullabies, calmed them. I sensed that the animals instinctively attuned their bodies somatically to their breath and biorhythms. If you've ever practiced meditation, it is very similar. The main difference that I have observed, is the animals are not encumbered by incessant thoughts, as people tend to be. They are present with their surroundings and with their bodies. The lullaby's 6/8 time, much like a mother lulling her baby to sleep, enhanced this process.

Since my first introduction to pet hospice, and as our relationships with our pets has evolved and become more intimate, death doulas and music therapists are now part of the interdisciplinary team assisting pets as they transition. Yesterday, I personally witnessed the benefits of end-of-life care for Whisper, and for me. Its intention and philosophy are pure, authentic, and compassionate. Contrary to my earlier assumptions, and just like hospice care for humans, there is no push for the extension of life. The intention is for a smooth, loving and dignified passing.

I will close with a resource sent to me from Lap of Love Hospice. May it bring you the same comfort and peace it brought me, and my beloved cat, Whisper.

 
 
 

Comentarios


bottom of page