Tribute to a Father

Dealing with loss is a personal journey. Some of us give more of ourselves, others write a story or paint a picture, and many grieve in silence. Slowly, however we each choose to memorialize our loved one, time begins to take away the pain. Watch an inspirational video of how one young woman dedicates a winning horse ride in her father's memory at the National Quarterhorse Bridleless Reining Championships.

In Memoriam: Jasper

People always ask how do you handle working in a veterinary hospital, dealing with all of the sadness. I have always responded that it is not all sad. There’s the joy of a new puppy, the little girl with her first kitten, the look in an older person’s face as they stroke the head of their dog. There’s the owner who has just lost a spouse tell us how their cat gives them the will to climb out of bed in the morning. This is why we do the job we do. There is sadness, the pet that runs in front of a car, sudden illnesses, and chronic diseases. But all of us at Stonecliff pride ourselves on giving each and every pet the very best quality of life possible, and providing them with dignity and kindness when that time is over. To know that we also help lessen the pain in someone’s life by supporting their decisions, offering a shoulder to cry on, and providing counseling in grief and loss makes all of our lives have great meaning.

I have worked in this hospital for 17 years. I have always felt we were the best hospital, always hired the most caring staff, felt really good about going above and beyond the call of duty. Last Friday I got to see first hand from our clients point of view what are hospital is all about. I can now relate so much more to the thank you cards and gifts our clients send our staff.

Friday was a beautiful, sunny spring day. I left work early to catch a few quiet moments before picking up my kids from school. I sat in the sun and felt so grateful that warmer weather had finally arrived. The birds were chirping, grass was getting greener, I had not a care in the world. The rest of my story is blurry, surreal. I walk to the car, climb in and start my engine, close the door. It is all so black and white and slow motion like. I begin to back up and feel a small bump. I raise my eyes to the front of the car and can’t believe what I see. There on the grass is our little cat. The next moments are horrid, in slow motion the panic sets in. I call my husband and sobbing tell him what I have done. I know he is far away, but I call him to here his voice, and he tells me what I already know. “Gather him up”, he says, “get to the hospital, you know what to do, you have been in this situation a million times, you know what to do”. “I’ll be there soon”.

I take a deep breath, run to the house for a blanket, wrap him up and run back to the car. I keep yelling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”, to his lifeless body. As I speed towards the hospital I am confident that my husband has called ahead, has warned the staff, they’ll be ready, they're always ready. The table is prepared with blankets, Sharon has the i.v. catheter and fluids prepared, the oxygen tank is poised for action. I know it is too late, I know the damage is beyond even what my husband can fix. We do all that we have been trained to do, I work like a robot. Sharon and I alone have 30 years of experience in the veterinary field, and instinctively we both know that the outcome of our efforts will be only sadness, and many, many tears. My precious little cat is dead.

I now must break the news to each one of my children. That’s four times, four looks of disbelief, 8 shoulders to hug, and over and over again I say I’m so sorry, I never saw him there. My children will heal and so will I, time heals everything someone once said.

I’m so thankful to have people by my side that all have the same genuine love for animals and people. To my receptionists, veterinary technicians, doctors, and animal assistants, thank you for being there for me and my family. Thank you for providing our veterinary community with compassion and incredible service. You guys are what this is all about, you are why Stonecliff Animal Clinic is the best veterinary hospital. Thank you.

-- Jodi Kelly, 2008

In Memoriam: Cappy, 1994 - 2007

In Memoriam: Nicholas, 1989 - 2003

On December 26, 2003, we laid Nicholas to rest. Dan had given Nicholas to me for our first Christmas as newlyweds. I picked him out of a litter of 13 Black Lab pups because he was the one that walked over to me as soon as I sat down, completely ignoring the playful cavorting his siblings were involved in.

At 4 weeks of age he bonded to me and I tried to visit him every week until he was ready to leave his mom. Nicholas never left my side. Unfortunately like so many labs, his ability to follow close behind proved to be a curse one morning in June of his first year. I was preparing to leave for a horse show and Dan volunteered to bring the truck up to the house. Nicholas, at six months of age, was always afraid of being left behind so he managed to climb under the truck while Dan was backing it up and suffered a fractured shoulder.

It was a hard way for Dan to break into Orthopedics, and he still says today it was the hardest surgery he had ever performed. It probably didn't help that I was his nurse during the procedure to pin the scapula which must have put alot of additional stress on the surgeon.

Over the years, Nicholas was always at my side, though many times playing second fiddle as each of our 4 children were born. His loyalty never faltered, and in his eyes I could see that he would die for me if asked. Nicholas was a hero in the clinic as our blood donor for many critically ill patients. He always wagged his tail as we slowly transfered his blood into the patient. If I left the room during his recovery after donating he would always struggle to rise. Even these last few weeks when arthritis and old age took its toll, Nicholas would still manage to rise whenever I walked into the room.

I know he is no longer in pain and I can only think that he is once again chasing balls and sticks, and swimming all day long. I just hope he has found someone to follow until my day comes when we will be together again. I love you buddy.

--- Jodi Kelly

If you have a thought and picture of your beloved companion that you would like to share please send it either by email or snail mail to Jodi Kelly, P.O. Box 900, Bradford, Vermont 05033.

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