A Good Death – Slightly Marred
Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to my dog, Elsa. She’d been with me for 15 years. I’d known her time with me was coming to a close and had been in contact with a local organization that comes right to your home so that death is approached not in a vet’s examining room, but in familiar and loving surroundings. It was a good death. Peaceful. I recommend saying goodbye to your pet at home. The individuals I had dealt with prior to yesterday had been gracious and truly empathetic, for which I am grateful.
The slightly marred aspect of Elsa’s good death occurred immediately at the arrival of the veterinarian who came to administer the drugs that ease a pet’s journey from life into death. When I greeted her at the door, she had a mask hanging from her right ear. I invited her into our home. She stepped inside, set down her bag, and began to reach for her mask, so I said, “You don’t need to wear a mask in our home.” She immediately went into the canned spiel, the great lies, surrounding the use of masks as a preventive measure against the manmade gain of function flu known as COVID-19, and said my wife and I would also have to don masks. I said, “No! We will not wear masks in this house.”
My response in regards to her masking request brought out from her a regurgitation of the many lies fed to the world since this manmade pathogen known as COVID-19 was let loose. I responded to this, first, by attempting to address the uselessness of masks scientifically, to no avail, as she continued to spew the well propagandized lies which have tyrannized the world since early 2020. My anger began to rise.
I then began to attempt to reason with her, rather forcefully, coming close to the point of berating her unmercifully, causing both the veterinarian and my wife to come to tears. During all this time, my Elsa, who truly needed to be compassionately released from this world, lay tired and alone on her bed by my chair. The only time I’ve been thankful that she was mostly deaf.
At this point, I was ready to send the veterinarian packing and pursue other compassionate means of providing Elsa a good death. I was angry and sad to the point of despair. Angry because my Elsa was not receiving the end she needed, and sad that I was dealing with a veterinarian who was so subsumed by the lies associated with COVID-19 she was actually living the lie in my home, which to me is a despairing point.
We ended up compromising. The veterinarian wore her mask, and my Lovely Melis and I remained six feet away from her during the administration of the drugs which ease a pet’s death. Though this was a bit awkward, and an inconvenience, Elsa’s pressing need for release was accomplished.
In fairness to the veterinarian, she was indeed compassionate and caring with Elsa. I find no fault with her in this regard. She gave my Elsa a most peaceful and good death, though I am mourning her deeply even while I type these words. My mourning is compounded, and more deeply disturbs me, because of the fact that there are individuals so terrorized by the propaganda surrounding COVID-19 they are unable to live in reality. They are living in the lie, the lies of men.
Elsa is gone, and I will miss her dearly. She did everything with me. She always watched me like a hawk. Elsa had a good death. Slightly marred. She was a great dog!
This conversation is over.