A tad bit morbid

Had the experience of touching a dead dog today (albeit through a trash bag- which honestly kind of felt worse..). 

A favorite coworker of mine who works in the clinic asked for help moving it from the floor to a cart. It was next to another much smaller bagged, dead dog. Given it's the nature of this job, always being so aware of and close to death, I figured it's only fair I lend a hand and partake in every aspect of their life, including what comes after it. But it certainly was not pleasant...! 

I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling. For some reason, the warmth was the strangest part. Not that they were DOAs, but still. Seeing those bags gave me the same churning feeling that reading a euth outcome with 'cooler' as the kennel number on an animal's profile does. Somehow, that was the worst part- not the touching body, not the warmth, not the literal dead weight and struggling to maneuver its body onto a cart to be transported to the cooler, still trying to somehow be careful and respectful in their handling all the while- and not even being able to tell if I am because of the inability to see- but the looking at what is obviously a body in a bag, somehow still hoping that it's not, hoping that you're mistaken; a visceral sense of foreboding that interrupts your breath, hitching in your throat; only to be met with a silent, solemn acknowledgement by another who has, in turn, answered what you feared to ask.

I am very grateful that I get to play an arguably integral part of these wonderful creatures' lives and wellbeing, and with that comes a bittersweet gratitude in willingly witnessing and attempting to honor them in death.

Anyways. I love animals. I hope I can have even a fraction as good of an impact on them as they have on me. I .ight not be here today without them.

💓