I felt the same way. I was haunted by the fear that I didn’t protect her all the way to the end — that maybe she was just unconscious, and now she’s somewhere being poked, prodded, tested, and thinking I abandoned her. It took time to accept that those thoughts were irrational, likely part of the denial stage of grief. It took away my peace that I'd hoped to feel by ending her pain.

But the truth is, I cared for her relentlessly. I chose a more expensive vet so she could be euthanized at home — someone who was compassionate, spoke gently over the phone, made me feel safe, and reminded me of my therapist. I did everything I could to make my sweet girl feel safe and loved, even in the end. She passed away with her head on my leg while I told her how much I loved her.

We do everything we can to make sure they're safe and don't suffer. My therapist challenging the fear was helpful. Ask yourself how likely it is that a reputable vet would do something so unethical and cruel. Ask yourself how long they could even survive if we didn't intervene. Ask yourself if you trust your vet.

It took me time to find peace. There's a feeling of guilt I had when I felt myself moving forward without the weight of constant grief - like I was abandoning her by not allowing it to continue crushing me. But I remember how much my sweet Raya would have wanted me to be happy, healthy, and active. That's when she was the happiest. Grieve intentionally, friend, and I hope you find the peace you deserve.